#maybe if his hair was redder

[geniemillies]

jiaoqiu from hsr gives mad eris vibes im losing it

[philhoffman]

“What I do with people from my hometown, it really... nothing makes me happier.” Phil visiting Rochester, mid-2000s?

(I’m going on a much-anticipated, heavily PSH-related trip until next week so I’ll probably be quiet on here for the next few days—but hopefully I’ll have some very fun things to share when I get back 🥰💙)

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ New Haircut;

Synopsis; Sunghoon looks stupidly handsome after cutting his hair, and when you arrive home and see him wearing a sleeveless shirt and teasingly showing himself off, you cant control yourself no more.

Pairing; down bad fem!reader X hot boyfriend!Sunghoon (canon) Genre; i dont even know (?) suggestive; crack; fluff; Words; 0.6k Warning; very thirsty reader (she is just like me for real) sexual innuendos I guess? Author's Note: YALL I'M STILL FERAL OVER THESE SUNGHOON PHOTOS SO I DECIDED TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT THEM!! Dont be fooled I wrote this to satisfy MY OWN thirsty self. And yeah, I'm not okay. Just look at him, look at that smirk- I can't- As always, thank you so much for all the love. Likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist

You’ve been dating Sunghoon for a few months, and everything has been as perfect as you imagined. He’s a caring, loving boyfriend who always looks after you. You knew how handsome he was, that’s why you had the biggest crush on him ever since he walked past you at university. But every time you think he can’t get any more attractive, he proves you wrong.

Nothing could have prepared you for what you just witnessed. You were coming back from work, feeling a little clingy and missing your boyfriend more than ever. So, to your surprise, when you arrived at your shared apartment and found Sunghoon still there, you were thrilled. It’s Saturday, and Sunghoon usually heads to the gym at 6 p.m. to avoid the crowds, so seeing him home was a delightful surprise.

But you couldn’t believe your eyes when he turned to face you, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement as he waited for your reaction.

Your gaze traveled over his tall figure. He was wearing loose gray sweatpants and a black sleeveless top that clung to his chest and showed off his muscular shoulders and arms. Then, your perplexed eyes moved upward, and you noticed his black hair was slightly shorter, perfectly framing his handsome face. Without makeup, the pretty moles scattered across his face were more visible, and his lips looked redder than usual, so plump and inviting.

“What do you think, pretty?” Sunghoon questioned with a teasing grin, his eyes fixed on your face.

Your mouth hung open, your cheeks flushed a cute shade of red, and your breathing grew uneven.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, your eyes glued to his lean arms, unable to look away.

“Yes, pretty?” he pressed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He loved having this effect on you. Especially because you’re usually so opinionated and talkative, but you always seem to turn shy when it comes to him.

“I just had an idea…” you said, stepping closer to Sunghoon and nudging his gym bag aside with your foot. “Maybe you can work out at home today.”

“At home? How?” Sunghoon asked, confused, his thick left eyebrow arching.

“Yeah, at home. With me. In bed,” you flirted, your voice low as you stepped fully in front of him.

“How can I work out in bed?” he smirked, pretending to be clueless about your very obvious invitation.

“Oh, I can show you some good workout positions…” You bit your bottom lip and reached for his head, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with his freshly cut hair.

“You could’ve just said I look good,” Sunghoon teased, his seductive brown eyes locked on your parted lips.

“Oh no, no, I couldn’t—” Your gaze shifted from his eyes to his red lips. “It wouldn’t be enough to explain how insanely hot you look right now.”

Sunghoon let out a laugh, his cheeks warming at your boldness. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you forcefully against him, drawing a surprised whimper from your lips.

The two of you stayed still for a moment, eyes locked as your breathing quickened from the closeness. You were the one who made the first move, unable to hold back any longer. Slowly, your lips meet his in a unrushed peck, wanting to savour the moment. But Sunghoon’s lips move impatiently against yours, turning the kiss that was supposed to be slow and passionate to hungry. He couldn't wait. He wanted you.

“Then show me,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and teasing. “Show me how handsome you think I am.” His words sent a shiver through you, and you hungrily chased after his addictive kiss again, ready to make him regret asking.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi @lovingvoidgoatee @mitmit01 @miuwonis @aureliaaaa555 @han-to-my-minho @heeweenie @vixensss @ro-diares @hoonvinx @immelissaaa @jiryunn @quilevyt @vrusha01 @kkamismom12 @skzenhalove @theothernads @moonpri @nicoleparadas @fightqueen @heesunghooney @starl0ver4 @jooniesbears-blog @k1arar3 @riri-lvs-food @kolawnk @mitmit01 @dummyf @tender-is-the-moon @dksfml @tobiosbbyghorl @loveydoveyez @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @hhyvsstuff @moondooll @enchantedtomeetyou @desistay @filmofhybe

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[leviathanspain]

OMG I am living for the Finnick content!!! Could I request something with angst to fluff, with the prompt “look at me, look at me, you’re okay, we’re okay”? Maybe set after catching fire when they both wake up in district 13? Thank you!!

watercolor eyes

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: you didn’t think you would ever see those watercolor eyes again…

a/n: i used hearing loss as reader’s injury, there is no real explanation, so make one up :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it was a stunning color, almost indescribable. he was saying something, his hands moved frantically, you could see them in your peripheral. yet you remained in a trance with his eyes, watching them as they frantically searched yours. then, you realized his lips were moving, and you couldn’t hear him.

“do you think she can hear us?” he blinked, refusing to get emotional at just the thought. from how close you had been, it definitely could’ve resulted in hearing loss. the rescuing of who they could get in the arena didn’t go very well, and he hated to admit that he almost lost you. how he lost peeta and johanna, something that already weighed heavy on him.

suddenly, a scream erupted from you. finnick rose from your side, hands trying to calm you down. you were getting redder as you screamed, exhausting yourself.

“y/n!” he shouted, hoping you’d hear him and stop, but didn’t realize that you were screaming because you couldn’t hear your own voice.

you were panicking. from the looks of finnick, he could hear you, but you couldn’t hear your loud screaming. you felt the vibrations of your own voice, hand at your throat. but nothing was heard. your breath hitched as the stark realization dawned on you. you couldn’t even hear ringing in your ears.

helplessly, you gripped finnick’s arm as he searched your eyes. a doctor practically sprinted towards you. you panicked, gripping onto finnick as you fought off the doctor, a syringe in his hand. you screamed again, now out of reflex. finnick was trying to calm you down but it was hard for someone who had gone temporarily deaf. or at least he hoped it would be temporary. there was no knowing the damage.

“y/n.” he spoke as if you could hear him, shouting wouldn’t change things. you could feel his fingers on your cheek, gently wiping them as tears escaped your eyes.

you wanted to look at him, focus on his eyes, imagine the engulfing waters of the ocean, free to take you and finnick to places you could only dream of.

but the needle stabbing you wouldn’t let you float your mind away.

you wouldn’t be able to hear the ocean, let alone see it.

you grilled finnick’s arm, eyes fighting to stay connected to his, but they fluttered shut, getting one last glimpse of those watercolor eyes.

finnick watched as your eyes fluttered shut. he had been comforting you in a way he knew wasn’t helping. “you’re okay…” he whispered, “you’ll be okay.” he brushed a hair from your voice as your expression calmed. the doctors had decided to sedate you upon your outburst. “i’m sorry.” he whispered more, laying you down back into the bed, words repeating like a broken record.

it had been a week.

your ears were still sensitive, and you had been ordered to stay away from any and all loud noises, which meant you often stayed behind for when president coin called her meetings.

katniss had been making progress, from what you had gathered in whispers from finnick.

“only whispers.” he had whispered the first words you were able to hear. “doctor’s orders.” he smiled brightly. you exhaled, nodding as you matched his whisper. even the sound of your own voice was excruciating in volume. you had tried to force yourself to get used to loud volumes, but it was impossible.

it was more pain than it was worth, that even sometimes the whispers were too sharp.

so you and finnick often settled for a comforting silence. he would hold you in his arms, brushing your hair from your face as you stared deep into his eyes.

he grounded you, from the moment you met him, he had been nothing but kind. he loved you, killed for you, saved you.

“i love you.” you whispered so quietly you wondered if he could even hear you.

he looked down at you, having glanced away for a mere moment. his smile extended up to his eyes, “i love you more.” he whispered, still careful to be quiet.

[alpali]

You didn’t necessarily know what your relationship with Kei was.

If it was up to labels probably friends with benefits or a situationship.

You never really knew.

Neither of you have ever brought it up. But your reasoning was solely because you liked him and you were convinced he was only in this for the sex.

A drunken night was what spurred this up and after that the you both couldn’t stay away. A booty call away, a late night text message.

You were half expecting him to come tonight but you weren’t up for doing anything. You were tired. Physically and mentally.

In a cower of your own thoughts, you confessing like a normal human being didn’t please as an option for you. So you thought pushing him away was better. You knew things would end like this. In one person getting hurt. And since you assumed he wouldn’t have feelings for you, you’d rather be the first to leave.

As you lay in your bed, the moonlight makes its way through your curtains. The chill of the night caressing your face. You felt yourself slipping away.

Yet your door opens and you already know who it is. His tall figure casts a shadow in your room. The moonlight hitting his face so perfectly he looks heavenly. He slides in behind you, pulling your back flush against his chest. His big hand gliding across your tummy.

“M not in the mood Kei.” You whisper.

Your heart is beating rather fast and you’re sure that he could feel it. His movements freeze for a moment but he continues.

“That’s ok.” He whispers against the rim of your ear.

You shudder, your body not knowing whether to warm up or tense. You’re a little shocked that he stays, full heartedly expecting him to leave. You cast a glance behind you and he opens an eye.

“What?” He grumbles, closing his eye once again.

“You’re not gonna leave?” Which you agree sounds terrible but you didn’t mean any harm.

“Jeez, do you want me to?” He perks up and you shake your head.

“No. Sorry. I just thought you’d want to.”

His brows furrow.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I don’t know I figured you’d just wanna have sex.”

Now he’s definitely confused and even offended.

“Is it really that weird for me to just stay over?”

You purse your lips, embarrassment getting to you.

“A little yes. You’re always gone by the morning.” You mumble.

“Because I have practice.” He says softly.

You sigh, your malicious thoughts getting to you. You both fall silent. Both of you to far in your head.

“Did you really think I just came to fuck?”

You gulp.

“Yea.”

Your voice is soft. Kei probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t next to you. But he does and that confirmation hurts him.

“Why?”

You’re growing a little frustrated or maybe it’s the embarrassment getting to you.

“I-I don’t know. We never talked about what we were so I just assumed you didn’t want anything serious.” You sigh.

“I do want something serious with you. But yea, we never really brought it up.” He blinks.

“Ugh you’re being confusing! How can you say all of this with a straight face.” You pout.

He sits up, looking down at you. He motions you to get up as well and he pulls you on his lap. Your cheeks are redder than ever, your eyes scanning everywhere except him.

“Look at me.” He says softly, cupping your cheek.

You meet his golden eyes, his glasses set on your table so you’re able to really look at him. Your arms wrap around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“I like you, I’ve always have.” He whispers, a faint smile on his lips.

But you’re finally able to see it. The softness and adoration in his eyes.

All of it.

Just for you.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger. He pulls away just enough that your noses graze eachother.

“I’ll take you out tomorrow after our classes. If my words aren’t enough.” He mumbles.

“It is enough Kei but I’m not opposed to you taking me out.” You smile so big and he looks relieved.

“There you are.” He laughs, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

[brownblob]

"I Love You"

When the words "I love you" spill from the prefect's lips, how do the Housewardens react?

Part 2

TW: Kissing in Leona's part, mentions of insecurities (Fluff)

Part 1 (Separate): Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto

ᥫ᭡. Riddle Rosehearts ᥫ᭡.

Like the thorns on a rose bush, Riddle's words were piercing and harsh. A follower of rules and also a preacher. Even so, what rules could he apply to you? You who was from another world entirely, you who understood little of his world yet were so brave, and you who broke his rules but never angered him. He was so utterly confused. He wasn't sure what he felt, really, you were far from perfect- mother wouldn't approve . Still, he couldn' t deny how his cheeks flared up when you walked into the same room, how he'd slightly fumble his words, and especially how his warnings were much tamer when you broke a rule. It all had to mean something or maybe he was going crazy. How could he like you, even a little- but how could he not?

But he had priorities and you weren't supposed to be one of them, you weren't meant to be a worry, you weren't supposed to be anything. But he cared. So much so, he didn't mind when you broke his rules, it felt right. It was the opposite to all that he was taught, something was amiss. It felt like a fresh breath of air, akin to sunlight engulfing him in a warm embrace. He felt at peace when you were nearby, as if he needn't be so uptight. Maybe it was alright for a few rules to be broken, to enjoy what life had to offer, to allow himself to relax.

He really was grateful for your calming presence, reminiscent to a fresh cup of herbal tea- with a slight hint of cinnamon, subtly spicy. Just like you were, not quite sweet but not sour, maybe spicy was the right term? So earthy and full of life, different from his dull self. But with you near him, he didn't feel so dull even he could be fun- at least you enjoyed his presence, it was enough.

Despite that, you weren't fair- why did he feel so warm when you came close? What right did you have making his face go red, and not from anger? Who allowed you to be so ethereal?

It wasn't fair.

How you were so insufferably pretty, and the way you'd willingly spend time with such a hot-head like him, trying your best to follow the rules of his dorm. You'd try to accommodate yourself to him, you'd really do that for him? He could just melt in your arms. The way you didn't mind when he lectured you for your recklessness, not speaking up but simply eyeing him with wide eyes- how was he even supposed to speak? You'd study alongside him, let him tutor you and afterwords you'd always stay for a cup of tea. He got used to it- your company and your mannerisms. Different from him, yet truly appreciated.

It was another tutoring session when something unforseen took place. Your hand was raveled in your hair as you grumbled and groaned, you hadn't expected the study packets Riddle provided to be so difficult. You had a test in two-weeks, it was time you started practicing practical magic, lucky you having Riddle by your side.

It was a tough night full of nit-picking, you'd say he was mean but you could see how he was trying his best to be tame with his words- how they were harsh but not mean, truly, this was also a challenge for him.

Hours went by, the moon rose in the sky and you were a tired mess, at least Riddle's tutoring helped. You were just about to thank him when the words spilled out of your mouth, unknowingly. Sleepy eyes looked up at him while a soft smile played at your lips.

"I love you, you know?"

How cruel of you to simply doze of afterwards, would you not even listen to what he had to say? Maybe it was for the best, if you were awake he wouldn't be able to meet your gaze. After all, his face was even redder than before, butterflies in his stomach as he simply stood there- had he been dreaming? He hoped not, it would be sadistic of life to play such a joke. He only realized it wasn't a dream when your head touched his hand, you were asleep and comfortable- you felt safe around him, trusted him. It was endearing.

Nevertheless, it was improper for you to doze off all of a sudden. But, just for today, he'd allow you- 'rules are meant to be broken', was what you always said. This was his form of breaking a rule, such a rebel he was. His hand traveled to your face, cupping you cheek gently before he draped a blanket over you- red like roses and Riddle himself.

"I love you too.."

A whisper, he hoped you heard it. Maybe you did and maybe you didn't- he might say it once more, after you awake. Till then, just let him admire you who looked so serene.

ᥫ᭡. Leona Kingscholar ᥫ᭡.

You're really gonna keep trying, aren't ya herbivore? Always trying to push him to go to class, to set his life straight. Really, why do you even care? Every time he pushes you away, orders you to bring him a snack, tells you to remain his pillow. You do it. Why do you stay? No one else would- he's a prince, is that it? His wealth, his influence, the power he holds. Is that what you want a part of? Everyone else had, just to ditch him after.

If you do, he doesn't mind- just stay, please don't go.

He wouldn't admit it but he liked your presence, the way you constantly clung to him, tried to lend a hand to help him who was strong while you were so weak. He might just go to class now, and he does, much more than before. You're a motivation he works for, it brings a smile on your little face. He wants it to stay, he doesn't even know why.

What really affects him is when he realizes, that you stay not for his money, nor his power and influence. You just like him. You enjoy his company, him as a person, an individual. He's not 'the second prince of Sunset Savannah' to you. No, he's Leona Kingscholar to you- not a second option, not someone you'll leave any time soon, and someone you genuinely care for.

Fine then, if his herbivore stays for him- he'll work them. You are a motivation to him, with your sweet words and the time you willingly spend- he too will work for you and be your reason to remain in Twisted Wonderland.

Was it selfish of him to want you to stay, no matter the cost? Maybe, but he is a prince- some habits don't leave, especially not when he's found his reasoning to move forward. He'll change some of his ways for you, it's cute when your face lights up as you notice him heading to class.

He doesn't change every one of his ways though. Why would he, when those ways of his allow him to see your face? You being pulled by Ruggie and towards him to wake him up, and you do- soft nothings spill from your lips as your try to wake the lazy lion before you. Of course he's awake, it's clear he is when he pulls you beside him. His weight stops you from moving, it's a usual now.

"Just stay for a bit, yeah? I promise I'll go to next class after, so just stay with me."

You do, it's comforting but so confusing. It's not appropriate for you to have feelings for someone like him, a prince of another world- you might have to go back to your won, though, you don't really want tot leave when Leona's around. It feels as though you're doing something meant for 'more than friends', something wrong. None of you confront it. It's serene in this silence, his warmth, in his embrace. It's a mutual feeling of safety, a haven. Let it last while it does, he'll make sure it's forever.

"I love you."

And the words spill out of your mouth, no ones near, just him and you. One of his eyes open, a neutral look on his face- you're not sure what to make of it. You don't have to, he's just shocked, not that he'll admit it. He didn't expect his herbivore to be so bold, he likes it, he likes you- loves you too. A grin soon flashes on his face, sharp canines flashing before he pulls you closer. You know what he's insinuating, you abide. He has a hold on the back of your head, hand intertwined in your hair.

It's a surprisingly soft kiss, it makes you want to melt- this is his answer, his reciprocation to your declaration of love. He's too smug to say anything.

Then the both of remain, safe in each others embrace. Your legs are entangled and chest touching the other's, you both relax.

"Love you too herbivore."

It's fleeting words, so soft that you barely heard them and if you did, you're not sure it's reality. As you seem to doze off, there's one thing in your mind. Where else would you go other than his embrace? This was your home.

ᥫ᭡. Azul Ashengrotto ᥫ᭡.

A swindler in the flesh and a contract that binds one to the other. Azul wishes it were that easy, but it's not. The last thing he wishes for is your hatred, you're already wary of him. The interactions he does manage to secure, somehow quite frequently, always render you even more skeptical of him. So guarded and cautious, his reputation's not the best but he isn't a monster, so why are you always scurrying off? Just let him speak, please?

But fate has another plan in mind for you always seem to bump into the swindler that you seem to avoid so- match made in heaven? As if. You won't believe his sweet lies, you won't sign a contract with him- but that's not what it's about. He doesn't wish for a contract, just some of your time.

As your interactions with him increase, you're introduced to very many versions of Azul. Being a swindler was just one part of him, the one that made wary. Nonetheless, he wasn't a monster- quite sweet actually, once you spent the much needed time with him. Words were exchanged, and you were warming up to him, slowly but gradually. Placed on his palm is your trust for safekeeping, you hope he doesn't break it.

As time goes by, you realize the swindler isn't at all what he seems- he has his own walls guarding him, his own insecurities. It's not what you expected, yet it adds to his character- it makes him human, he has a heart. The parts he hides are what attracts you to him- he sees it as a moth to a flame, hiding his failures. Yet, you look at it as a bee to a flower, so dainty a bond but so sweet.

Days go by and you notice how shy he can be, the smallest things can fluster him who seemed so sly. It's endearing, really. Your walls slowly break down, revealing your true person while he allows you to see glimpses of his own self, slow but steady. You don't mind, you both can take your time- walk hand in hand towards trust.

It's another night in his office, spent with him working on contracts. He truly is a hard worker, ambitious too. You admire those qualities, maybe not all the work he does but him as an individual is what you like. You don't seem to notice how the three words roll off your tongue, hand tangled in his locks of gray, seemingly playing with his hair; until you do, in fact, realize.

"Azul, I love you.."

Ink is spilled everywhere, the black coating the table and contracts on it. The pitter patter of the liquid allows him time to realize what you really said.

Those words that spilled of your tongue- so sugary sweet, could it be true? No contract needed, no form of force just his presence alone would suffice? He was enough.

His hand clutched yours tightly, ocean eyes looking up at you from his seat, tears spill from his eyes. He was so vulnerable in that moment, you found his true self as he had found yours. It's a nod from you that shows him that it's not a joke but reality.

"I-I love you too.."

He fumbles the words out too, a faint blush coating his cheeks as he looks away and to the ground. A giggle escapes your lips as you plant a kiss on his cheek.

Maybe the swindler was swindled by your love, except there was no catch- just your love, all for him.

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[finnsterus]

Hmmmm… gentle bull hybrid, he grew up with everyone (all the other bull hybrids) being so aggresive all the time, it wasnt an issue because he knew they were all tough enough to handle it and he was too. You though? No no no, your way too fragile, he could never do anything to hurt you! Including being intimate unfortunately. When he holds you he makes sure his grip isnt too tight, scared to fully wrap his giant hands around your chubby body (his hands could still fit around ur waist he is huge). Even if you ask him to be rougher he is so scared of hurting his little mate, you tell him you can handle it and he cringes with hesitation. Eventually he does start to loosen up a little bit, slinging you over his giant shoulder, picking you up by the waist, tossing you onto the bed, laying his big fluffy head on you, now that he knows your not made of glass he finally gives in. Not fully initially, he starts with only making you cum on his tongue and after a couple weeks he adds in a finger and maybe two, its only after a few months of his “conditioning” that he finally decides to give in to trying to go all the way. He will lay you down and hesitate for a moment before rubbing his throbbing head through your soaked cunt, shuddering at the feeling. He rubs your squishy tummy as he ever so slowly starts to push in, not even getting the head all the way in before stopping and asking if your ok, eventually you have to just suddenly move your hips down onto him so you can get it over with. He moans loudly as you fit all of him (that you can physically fit) inside you. The stretch is very apparent to you but definitely worth it. He then starts a terribly slow pace, pausing to check on you every now and then but you can see his wet nose getting redder the more he gets worked up. Eventually your yelling and whining with tears in your eyes for him to just fuck you already, he reluctantly gives in and starts a more steady pace, throwing his head back. “G-god your so tight…” he whines. Your quickly reduced to a moaning and drooling mess after only a couple minutes, the shape and size being just right for your cunt. After a few rounds of this, some soaked bed sheets, and lots of love marks covering your skin you lay panting next to your bull hybrid lover, “told you i could handle it.” He chuckles and soothes your hair, kissing your forehead and pulling you closer. You settle in that night and get the best sleep you have ever had.

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐮 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 !

— pairing; jing yuan x reader (ft. jingliu)

— summary; in which jing yuan has a crush and jingliu tries to help

— notes; this is my very first honkai fic so please don't be mean or i will cry. please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ Jingliu is not blind.

❋ As sharp as her sword, Jingliu immediately notices the way Jing Yuan looks at you — sickeningly sweet, like a love-struck puppy. How he straightens up when you walk into a room, his subtle efforts to impress you during training ... It’s painfully obvious that her young disciple is nursing a crush.

❋ And to her surprise, she doesn’t disapprove. You're a noble, which means you come from good stock. You may not be a warrior, but you have elegance, poise, and kindness — things that Jing Yuan, with his quick wit and charisma, would pair with beautifully.

❋ And unlike some of the other aristocrats Jingliu has dealt with, you're neither arrogant nor insufferable. You're quite pleasant to be around. She decides — fine. You meet her standards. She approves.

��� The problem, therein, lies with her boy.

❋ Jing Yuan is utterly useless. For someone with boundless talent in swordsmanship and strategy, he’s completely inadequate regarding matters of the heart. He’s reduced to nothing but a dreamy, lovesick fool the moment you walk into a room. His relationship with you (if it can even be called that) consists of stolen glances, lingering stares, and tongue-tied silence.

❋ Pathetic. 

❋ So, Jingliu — not a woman of romance but very much a woman of action — decides to take matters into her own hands.

❋ Whenever you visit, she makes sure to sing praises about Jing Yuan, with all the grace of a bull in a China shop.

“Jing Yuan, my beloved disciple! He is truly remarkable. Such skill, such intelligence — ah, and he’s only going to get stronger! The most promising of his generation!” “Truly, he is the beauty of the Xianzhou. Have you ever seen such radiant hair? Such impeccable form? Such effortless grace?” “He’s also intelligent, responsible, and — Aiya, Jing Yuan, don’t just stand there! Smile at them, you fool!”

❋ Jing Yuan wants to die.

❋ Every time Jingliu speaks, he wants the ground to swallow him whole. His face is redder than the finest Xianzhou wine, and he looks as though he’s in physical pain whenever she opens her mouth. He tries, desperately, to get her to stop. His dignity is at stake.

“Shifu, please.”   “Aiya, please what? I’m doing you a favour! You think they'll talk to you if you stand there like a decorative vase?” “Shifu, I can handle this myself —” “Handle it how? By doing nothing? By gazing at them like a lovesick fool for the next five centuries?!” “This is embarrassing. For me. I trained you to be decisive, not to act like a bashful maiden in a romance play!”

❋ Jingliu is exasperated. If she had a slipper, she’d be brandishing it at him like a disappointed mother. She considers finding one just for this occasion.

❋ As for you . . .

❋ You know what’s happening. Jingliu is trying to “sell” her disciple off; if her lavish praises are anything to go by. You don’t tease Jing Yuan (he’s already suffering enough), but you start smiling at him more, trying to coax him into a conversation.

❋ Maybe . . . Just maybe . . . You’ll save him from any further humiliation and take the first step.

[secretlyazombi3]

rookie! leon waits at his desk all day, impatient, his eyes glancing over to check the clock hanging on the wall nearby every few minutes. today was another boring day at work, time seemed to have slowed, he just wanted to get home and see you.

leon rushed to his car once his shift was over and drives to the closest grocery story. he fidgets with his uniform as he looks around for a good bouquet for you. which flowers would be best? likely something red or pink, maybe tulips or roses. he hesitates. were red roses too basic?

leon ended up taking the bouquet of red roses with him, alongside a heartshaped box of chocolate, a card and a plushie of your favorite animal that he didn't plan on getting, but he knew how much you would love it and couldn't leave without it.

leon straightens himself up in his rearview mirror, fixing his hair and staring at himself nervously to make sure he looked okay before heading to your door.

leon's face was redder than the bouquet of roses as you opened the door and he offered you the bouquet and other gifts he'd gotten you.

"happy valentine's day, my love." leon said. "aw, thank you, lee." you said with a smile as he shifted his weight nervously.

"i got you red roses because i felt like they were the most romantic. you... you like them, right?" leon stuttered.

"of course, baby, i love them." you replied, holding all the gifts.

your smile was infectious, seeing it made leon smile right back. he was clearly very nervous, he wasn't very experienced with relationships, and being around you made him incredibly flustered and he would lose his charm.

you gave leon a kiss. leon pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily as he stared at you, an even wider smile on his plush lips now. you know exactly how to make him flustered.

he orders delivery so you two can stay inside together all night, inevitably ending up laying on couch together, stuffed from dinner and the chocolates leon bought you, leon snuggled in your arms, his face in your chest . (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[mondaymelon]

— 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮! ♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ lyney, freminet, wriothesley, neuvillette x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || cw: fluff <3 maybe a lil ooc since i havent done the fontaine quests yet, wrio is whipped !!

⤷ giving your fontaine boyfriend flowers ♡

“Oh? For me?”

LYNEY’s expression is one of delight as he holds the bouquet of roses you’ve gifted him, smiling gratefully. The shining excitement in his vibrant eyes, however, doesn’t quite translate into how ecstatic he really is… because usually, he’s not used to being on the receiving end of affection, since the charmingly flirty magician is constantly the one to make you glow red.

“They reminded me of you…” You laugh sheepishly, watching his grin only grow.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you, love.” He moves the flowers to one hand as the other finds its way resting on the small of your back, giving you something to lean on as he moves forward and gives you a quick peck on your cheek, light and fleeting. “So I’ll show you my thanks, hm?” His voice is low as he stares at you, something earnest in his gaze as his violet irises twinkle. You nod, slowly, unsure of what he implies, but you know him well enough to not be startled as he swiftly moves forward and meets his lips to yours. You can feel his warmth… is it because he’s a pyro user? It’s hard to think about anything, especially when you’re pressed up against him like this, mind blank as his mouth moves against yours.

He speaks as he pulls away with a slight smile, and your hand instinctively latches onto the hem of his coat. “Not enough for you?” You can hear the smirk in his tone. “C’mon now, we can’t be too greedy, love~”

“What? No, I just-!” You hastily release your grasp on his clothes, face growing hot. “Lyney, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I know, I know, it’s just so fun to tease you, y’know?” He lets out a laugh at your pouting expression. “I can’t help it, really.”

There’s no winning against this man. “Hah… alright, alright…” You glance up in surprise as Lyney gently moves you out of his arms and starts to stand up.

“Aw, don’t look so sad, I just have something for you too! Surely one kiss or two isn’t enough to repay the gift you’ve given me?” He smiles as he reaches for his signature hat, which dangles on the coat rack. You watch in awe. How come his every movement is still so graceful?

“Lyney, I don’t need repaym-” You’re cut off as the man flourishes his arms - You blink, and all of a sudden there’s a bouquet of his own in his hands, splendid yellow roses, fully in bloom. “Wh-”

“Tada!” He bows, looking pleased with himself as he stares at the flowers in your arms, then up at you. “Now we match~” He holds up his own bouquet with a beam.

“W-When did you-”

“Magic.”

“So you can create just about everything with magic, huh…” You stare at the roses in silent wonder.

“Ah ah, not everything!” Lyney bounces on his feet, watching the look of curiosity on your face with an air of amusement. One of his sparkling eyes closes in a wink.

“No magic could ever conjure up something as limitless as my love for you!” ♡

“H-Huh? Flowers? For… me?”

FREMINET’s eyes are wide as he hesitantly holds the flowers in his hands, looking rather anxious. “But… why?” The poor male glances from the roses in his hands back to your face nervously, studying your features. “Y-You should’ve told me so that I would’ve had flowers for you too…!”

“There’s no need for you to give me a gift, Min. I just got you a bouquet because I felt like it, no reason.” You beam at him as his face only grows redder. “There’s really no need to get embarrassed!”

“Ah… but I feel bad…” He shakes his head, lightly colored hair swaying with his movements. You can hear him mumble under his breath, quietly to himself: “...omorrow…ing…”

“What was that?” You blink at him, confused. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“N-Nothing! Uhm… do you want to go somewhere today? You’ve put me in a good mood, so…” He smiles softly, and the air around him seems to glow with the sheer brilliance of it. You match his smile with one of your own, watching as he takes the flowers out of the bouquet and arranges them into an intricately decorated vase, half-filled with water. Gazing at him is like observing a masterpiece at work, although you know far too well that the male’s job certainly has nothing to with that of a florist, yet the movement of his skillful hands captures your attention anyhow.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been looking at me for quite a while… is there something on my face?” Upon noticing how your eyes are fixated on him, he flinches, ears flaring red. 

“No, you just look pretty today. You look pretty every day, Min.” It’s hard to restrain your laughter as you watch Freminet bury his face in his hands, his red ears visible from behind his hair. 

“Don’t tease me…!”

“But it’s true.”

“D-Do you want to go to town or not…?” He shifts a finger, hesitantly peeking an eye out between them. “We can go get something to eat… I’ll pay, but you’ll have to order…” His usual habits were the same as always, how he’d stutter over his words when faced with anyone except his siblings… and of course, you.

“That sounds great, Min. Come on, let’s go!”

The next morning, a soft knock jolts you awake, three light raps hitting the wood before the sound of footsteps quickly retreated away. You manage to crawl out of bed and open the door, only to be startled as a large bouquet - larger than the one you had gifted him - sat on your doorstep, mixed with Fontaine classics and even Romaritime flowers… had he dived underwater to pick these for you? Every petal was perfect, and the flowers were all fully in bloom, despite being out of water. What kind of magic was this?

A cream-colored card catches your attention, leaning against the bouquet. On it are finely crafted words, written in Freminet’s familiar small script:

“Thank you, love.” ♡

“Hm? What’s the occasion?”

WRIOTHESLEY’s usual professionalism fades as his chest tightens with a giddy sensation. He had been having a rather tedious afternoon in the Fortress of Meropide - time passed all too slowly whenever you weren’t present - but now that you were here, he knew his minutes with you were already slipping away like sand through his fingers, no matter how tightly or carefully he cupped the grains in his hands. You were a free soul, a rather unfitting lover for his occupation, coming and going like the wind. And while your presence may be as fleeting as the gale, at least the breeze you brought would leave in him a warm sensation. “I wasn’t aware you’d be visiting today.”

“I figured I might as well surprise you! Besides, you always come home with a scowl on your face, so I was just making sure you weren’t having a hard time here,” you smile at him, an expression that causes his heart to stutter. It takes him all he’s got in him to at least somewhat maintain his professional expression, knowing full well that if anyone else saw him at the moment, they would certainly be in for a shock. Your words are entertaining. Him? Having a hard time? That had long dissipated the moment you stepped foot into the building.

“Were you worried about me? I’m okay, so don’t concern yourself over such trivial matters.” Wriothesley lightly shakes his head. For someone as beautifully naive as you to exist in this world, he knew full well that your future would not be free of adversaries. He supposed that wasn’t exactly a problem, though. The male had already promised himself that he’d dispose of them all when you weren’t looking.

Your face scrunches up like you’ve eaten something bad. “Trivial?” you echo, your tone expressing your annoyance. “Wrio, how could you say that? Of course I should be worried about you, silly! What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t?”

Ah, there you go again. Every time you refer to yourself by that title, he swears he can feel his heart skip a beat, the only evidence of his flusteredness is the burning of red dusting his ears. He had been refraining from holding you until he had gotten back home, but, naturally, you had broken his final sense of reason. You blink, and there he is, pressed up against you with both of his arms wrapped around your waist, your back leaning against his chest. He’s warm, startingly so despite him being the bearer of a Cryo vision, and you can hear the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re cold,” he remarks offhandedly, pressing a kiss into your nape, then another.

“You’re warm,” you respond, smiling, only to hear the drumming of his heart quicken.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Wriothesley’s face is flushed, just the tiniest bit, and once you blink, you could’ve sworn that it was never there.

“Do I?” You grin up at him cheekily. “Why don’t you care to elaborate?”

“Fuck, darling… you can’t keep doing this to me. I don’t think my heart will be able to take much more of this.” ♡

“They’re beautiful.”

NEUVILLETTE's fingers graze a petal and trace its outermost edge, studying the bouquet with a smile. The blooming assortment lays perfectly balanced in his hands as he cradles them gently. “Thank you, dearest.” His smile is serene, like an untouched expanse of water. Smooth, and glimmering, and when you lean over to peer into it, you can see your clear reflection staring up at you. His eyes mirrored it, pure and unsullied. His beauty stuns you for a moment. He had always been a man with an air of elegance, his magnificence simply inhumane, and it was likely a stroke of luck that Neuvillette had ever taken you as his partner.

Of course, those were merely your thoughts on the matter. His did not match your sentiment, not even in the slightest. For in his mind, he was the one who didn’t deserve you. No, it would be simply unreasonable to compare him to something as perfect as water. You were the only one in his eyes who deserved such a title. And he was the Romaritime flower, only able to thrive in your presence.

“You like them?” He loathes the surprise in your voice. Indubitably, he did. There was no other option. It was something that you had gifted him, and that enough made its value clear.

“Certainly,” his eyes are warm. “I will treasure everything and anything you bestow upon me.”

“Vil, there’s no need to go that far…” you laugh sheepishly, only for the sound to slowly cease as you realize he isn’t jesting. “...Why?”

His soft laughter fills the silence. “I love you. Have I not made that apparent?”

“Yes, but there’s certainly no need for-”

“Shh.” This interaction has made something painfully clear for the man. Perhaps he hasn’t been showing you enough affection? He is a busy man, but he always heads home, heads to you whenever he has a second to breathe. Yes, only in your arms would he finally feel content. Only with your fingers carding through his hair, whispering his name with a smile and closed eyes, only then. You knew how much he yearned for you, right? 

If not… well, that could be changed.

“You’ve given me such a precious gift, so I should show my thanks out of courtesy.” Wrapping his arms around your smaller frame and leaning your head against his chest, to hide the slightest flush on his cheeks. “Ah, but it should be a fair trade.” You tilt your head at his words, confused.

“Only one kiss won’t be justified, hm?” ♡

(a/n) help why do i actually like wriothesley's part this isn't supposed to happen ?! anyways yeah it was about time i wrote for fontaine men

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[fluffylino]

Strawberry Cow ! Chan 🌸🍓🌸

he's not just any kind of hybrid...he's the first ever 'male' cow you've ever met. chan's a sweetheart, even more so when he's milked...

(i was suppozed to write this a year ago and finally here it is, enjoy lovelies <333)

reblogging > liking

part two

-contains mildly suggestive themes

Hybrids were pretty much accepted into this world of ours. they were treated like humans, with respect (most of the time) and accepted into society quite easily.

And somehow you found yourself accidently conversing with one particular male hybrid.

he was handsome.

so incredibly beautiful, it made you question if he was even real.

two horns on either side of his head and a pair of fluffy white ears twitched beneath them. it wasn't a white that hits the eye, it was a white that looked like freshly whipped cream. with soft fur that was slightly longer than usual.

you weren't quite sure what species he was. it was difficult to make out and honestly nervewracking to ask a hybrid that kind of question.

it was almost the same as asking a human if they were a person of colour, as if they were of ethnic descent.

he could be a gazelle? maybe a buck?

but his horns weren't so sleek and thin. they were neither black in colour.

instead his thicker horns were a complete contrast to his dark hair.

a bull, maybe? or did he dye his hair?

you were about to lose your mind.

"I'm actually a cow hybrid..." he let out so quietly, with a nervous smile. Damn, he was too beautiful for his own good.

"I've never seen a cow hybrid" you mutter without much thought.

instantly regretting your statement upon seeing his awkward stance.

"no no i meant i've never seen a cow hybrid as handsome as you" waving your hands dramatically to clear the tense air.

"as...handsome as..me?" he mumbles and you were sure your heart stopped beating.

"oh god it was wrong of me to assume what you are and how you'd prefer to be addressed-"

your voice dying down as you hear him laugh.

its such a soft laugh, it goes straight to your heart. neither mocking nor a loud one. soothing to the ears.

"i'm sorry if i'm so shaky...its been a long time since anyone has ever..complimented me..."

you sighed in relief, letting a smile creep up on your face. his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink and you knew you looked as shy as him.

The small coffee joint was beginning to crowd and it seemed that neither of y'all liked crowded spaces.

the cow hybrid slowly stood up, straightening his posture and your eyes widened.

he was well built, a good height compared to yours and his muscles were defined enough to leave an imprint on the shirt he was wearing. loosely buttoned up and hanging low on his collar. Black really was his colour...

you mentioned his build, complimenting him to the point his ears were redder than ever. shy little giggles escaping his plush lips. gosh...

his lips made you want to kiss him senseless.

"could we..uhm...be friends or uh more...i mean-" he mumbles, stuttering so sweetly.

"of course, darling. but you never quite told me your name?" you coo.

"I'm chan or...you can..call me chris"

he smiled continously as you told him your name and how you come by here often.

his ear twitching excitedly when the two of y'all share phone numbers. promising to keep in touch in the days to come.

.

🌸

.

Chan was a lot different from your first meeting. considering the fact that nearly a month or more than a month had passed.

you happened to find out how much a hybrid like him had to go through. to you, he was an ordinary cow hybrid. but chan explained how the term 'ordinary' never existed in his vocabulary.

of course you knew he was a male but what did not strike you was the fact that he shouldve been called a bull.

Instead he was classified under cow, making him a proper cow hybrid.

Taking into consideration that he was also a male, made it difficult for him to lead his life as usual. bodily changes and phenomenon occurring during certain periods made the poor hybrid's life tougher.

Cases like him were rare, not exactly non existent.

.

.

His room was unimaginably aesthetic. changing colours that faded to pink and purple, sometimes gold.

one thing you realised was his love for the colour black. laughing when he opens his cupboard. it was a black hole in there with numerous clothes lined up.

making yourself comfortable on his bed, you noticed how on-edge he was. his behaviour much different, extra shy as he sheepishly sat beside you. your backs resting against the wooden headboard.

"why'd you call me here, channie?" you asked, smiling at the way his thin sleek tail swished around.

his eyes gaze at you with such pureness, you blurt out another statement.

"I mean, i'd spend my entire day or even week with you if you wanted! but i just got a bit worried because you called me here oit of the blue, baby"

reassuring him while patting his knee lovingly.

"I..I wanted to come c-clear about myself"

you nodded, urging him to go on. he pauses, looking at you for a few seconds. theres this nervousness in his energy and you scooch closer to him.

"I lactate...almost every four days, sometimes every two days depending on tge weather..." gazing at you sweetly.

"yes, im aware channie"

"you know about-" his eyes widen, surprise in his tone.

"of course I do, did you really think I wouldn't find ways to help you after you told me how hard your day to day life is"

you joked lightly.

"if i don't...milk myself every now and then, I feel full. like heavy.."

you squeeze his hand fondly, interlocking your fingers.

"do you do it manually? or do you use some kind of device?"

from his expression and body language, you could see him grow comfortable.

"manually...pumps are quite the price"

you gasp, wondering if you pried a little too deep. chan takes it as you being weirded out but you stop him before he starts overthinking.

"no no no sweerheart, i was just surprised that you did it manually for so many years"

"i've tried a pump once or twice...but i don't like the feeling...it made me feel like an object..." he pauses, cheeks turning pink as ever before he continues.

"whenever i...uhm my chest swells and gets really sensitive..."

well that was new info to you.

"like mine?" you let out, laughing as his ears twitch and he blinks furiously.

"w-what do you mean-"

"I meant like does your chest get to like my size? i'm pretty average but does yours get bigger?"

the strawberry cow hybrid blushed.

"it depends! on m-my mood and..uhm everything"

.

🍬

.

"Chris?! what's wrong?"

worry filling your mind. the hybrid looked distressed and out of his senses. sweating profusely.

"its n-nothing, I don't feel so good" he tried to reassure although it wasn't quite reassuring to you.

his fluffy ears were lopsided and his tail swished around desperately

you cupped his face gently. his reaction waw everything. nuzzling into your palm. it was obvious. it was happening.

"channie. baby look at me"

you urged, making him focus on you. and only you.

"do you want me to help you?"

"help...help with milking me? p-please?" his tone gentle and he uttered a small plea.

"just place your hand h-here and massage slowly"

his bigger hand held onto yours as he pressed your palm flat on his chest. he was right. his chest was swell and warmer than ever.

"do you mind, baby.."

obediently he held his shirt between his teeth. gnawing on the material. you let your hand run over his toned abdomen. feeling up his tense muscles.

"y-you're so fit, channie" he grunted softly.

his milk running down your fingers slowly. with every massage, more seeped out of his pretty nubs.

unconciously you stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets that rolled down the expanse of his chest.

"ah don't let it g-go to waste p-please please"

begging you to drink more. his hands squeezing yours. whining so sweetly as you sucked his pumped up chest. his breathing quick and shaky.

god, you wanted to corrupt him...

.

.

.

.

.

.

fuck...part 2?

should i?!

this concept to me, is so hot!!!!!

i wrote a part two-

[theorphicangel]

if there was one thing you hated, it was your roommate. Sukuna.

ever since you moved in it seemed that your roommate has had a vendetta against you. whether it was setting up the shower's temperature to be freezing cold when it was your turn or eating your leftovers or letting his dishes pile up in the sink or leave his laundry lying around, you knew one thing and one thing only.

you hated him.

so much so that you wouldn't even speak to him. whenever the two of you were in the kitchen for breakfast, the atmosphere would be dead silent. only the clinking of cutlery and the scraping of chairs could be heard, the two of you preferring to mindlessly scroll on social media rather than speak to each other.

you didn't really speak to sukuna unless necessary and it was the same vice versa.

until a random weekend came by and a little visitor came knocking on your door.

knock, knock.

'come in-'

your bedroom door is pushed open but hestantly at first almost as if the person outside is struggling.

expecting to see a figure, you're stunned when no one enters. you were sure to hear a knock and panic surges through your body at the idea of an intruder in your flat.

you're ready to hide until you glance down.

oh.

'sorry i thought this was the bathroom-'

a little boy, no older than what seems to be six years old is at your door. you've never seen him in his life but there's certain hints which help you figure out who he might be known to. that familiar pink hair and chubby cheeks help guide your guess that he's related to your one and only roommate.

'oh...' you lean back and swivel in your chair. you turn away from your open laptop and abandon your university work to give your full attention to the boy.

'sorry' the boy blushes, ready to head out. 'I'll leave-'

'are you sukuna's brother?' you interruption.

the boy shakes his head, his face getting redder by the second. 'he's my uncle.'

you nod silently. righttttt, that should make sense.

an awkward silence filled between the two of you. you're hesitant on what to say as the boy stands nervously in your room.

' he doesn't like you very much' he announces aloud.

you bite back a choke.

'how come?' you bite back any spite in your voice. it's not his fault, i mean, it doesn't take a genius to work out that you're not Sukuna's favourite person.

'my uncle says you stink and don't clean up after yourself.'

'maybe your uncle should have thought twice before putting up an advert for a roommate, he doesn't seem to get along with anyone.'

'he doesn't. he argues with my dad a lot.' the boy agrees.

'i bet.' you reply 'and he is the one that stinks not me. Have you smelt him after he goes to the gym, ugh' you fan a hand from your nose, implying a nasty smell.

Yuji laughs, dimples appearing on each corner of his cheek. It's hard to believe that the two were related. How could anything that shares Sukuna's blood be so sweet and cute.

'yuji!' a voice calls out. a voice you are all too familiar with.

ah, so that was his name.

'what did I tell you about going into other people's rooms without ask-' sukuna's voice comes to a halt once he realises you're also present.

'oh. you're home.'

'i am.'

Sukuna clears his throat at the low tone you address towards him. he introduces the little boy. 'this is yuji, my nephew.'

'nice to meet you, yuji' you smile. the boy smiles back with a light blush coming across his cheeks adding a shy wave.

soon enough an awkward silence appears between the three of you. sukuna and yuji stood awkwardly. it's not long before yuji decides to break the silence.

'wanna play uno with me?'

you and sukuna answer at the same time.

'no she doesn't'

'of course.'

Sukuna scowls, 'I'm making dinner for you, you brat so you can't play.'

'we can play whilst you cook for us.' you chime in.

Sukuna throws a glare straight at you. now you've gotten yuji's hopes up as his face lights up with excitement. 'us? there is no us? you little-'

'let's go Yuji,' you outstretch your hand as you stand. 'we can't let uncle sukuna play because he cheats and hides the cards in his bum'

'I do no-'

'do too!' you exclaim as yuji giggles loudly. you wink as you walk past grabbing Yuji's little hand.

you - 1

sukuna - nil

[moonmaiden1996]

If you're not a couple... How would Sanji react to you catching him masturbating and vice versa? 😏

Catching Sanji Masturbating 💛🔥

You weren’t expecting to walk in on him like this. Maybe you were looking for him in the kitchen, expecting to find him making a late-night snack, but instead, you find yourself standing frozen at the threshold of his dimly lit quarters.

And what you see?

Sanji sprawled out on his bed, half-undressed, shirt unbuttoned and barely hanging from his shoulders. Golden strands of his hair cling to his damp forehead, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. His fingers clutch desperately at the sheets beneath him, knuckles white from the strain, but it’s his other hand that really steals your attention.

He’s stroking himself—long, slow, deep strokes—hips bucking slightly, thighs trembling. And the worst (or best?) part?

"Nngh—ahhhh..."

He’s moaning your name.

A broken, needy sound that punches the air from your lungs.

The moment he realizes he’s not alone, everything stops. His entire body tenses, muscles locking up as his dazed, pleasure-clouded eyes flicker open. He meets your gaze, and the realization hits—his breath catches, face burning a deep shade of red, his mouth opening and closing like he’s scrambling for something—anything—to say.

"I-It’s not what it looks like!"

Oh, but it is.

Frantic, he tries to cover himself, grabbing the nearest object—which, unfortunately for him, is a thin pillow that does absolutely nothing to hide his straining, twitching arousal. His fingers tremble against the fabric, his chest still heaving as he struggles to regain any semblance of composure.

If you tease him? He might die on the spot. Stammering, apologizing, maybe even begging you to forget what you saw. But if you don’t leave—if you take even one slow, measured step closer—his breath hitches.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, muscles visibly tensing beneath his flushed, sweat-slicked skin. His hand twitches—like he wants to keep touching himself but doesn’t know if he can with you watching.

"D-Don’t just stand there looking at me like that…" his voice is barely more than a shaky whisper, hoarse and desperate. "You’re making it worse."

You own him now.

Because every time after this? Every single time he’s alone, needy and restless, his hand clamping around his aching cock his thoughts are going to go right back to this moment. To you standing there, watching him, teasing him, maybe even joining him.

Sanji was already down bad for you—this? This just sealed his fate, you are the one for him.

Sanji Catching You Masturbating—And Screaming His Name 🔥💛

You thought you were alone.

The ship was quiet, the night air cool, and everyone else had either retired or gone about their own business. It was safe. No one would walk in.

Or so you thought.

Your back arched off the mattress, fingers working over your heated skin, teasing yourself, chasing that sweet, blissful edge. Your breathy moans filled the room, growing louder, needier—until finally, the pleasure overwhelmed you, and the name on your lips spilled out in a sharp, helpless cry.

"S-Sanji—ahh—Sanji!"

And that was the moment the door slammed open.

"Merde—!"

A sharp, strangled inhale, followed by the thunk of something hitting the floor.

Your eyes fly open, panic spiking through your veins, and there he is—Sanji, standing in the doorway like he just walked into heaven and hell at the same time.

His breath is caught in his throat, his entire body locked up. His eyes, dark and wild, flicker from your flushed face to where your fingers are still buried between your thighs, glistening and trembling.

His cigarette slips from his lips. He doesn’t even notice.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Then—

"Oh my god."

His voice is wrecked, deep, hoarse, and shaking as he grips the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping him standing. His face is redder than his damn suit, and his chest heaves like he just sprinted across the entire ship.

*"I—I didn’t—I mean, I heard—*mon dieu—I thought you were in danger—" his voice breaks slightly, physically trembling now. His knuckles are white from how hard he’s gripping the wood.

And then? His knees buckle.

He drops to the floor like his legs have completely given out.

His gaze is glued to you, pupils blown wide with a mixture of shock, arousal, and something darker. He’s still trying—trying to be a gentleman, trying to look away, to respect you, but his hands twitch against his thighs, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, and—oh, he’s struggling.

"I—do you—" he swallows hard, voice dangerously low, "Do you need help?"

And if you nod? If you so much as whisper his name again?

He whimpers.

And if you order him to stay....To watch? To help?

Sanji—sweet, hopelessly lovesick, would be in heaven because he will die from the most powerful nose bleed to ever overtake him.

Eitherway Sanji is in trouble. He is screwed both literally and figuratively.

[loonyloopylupin96]

Theme: Prank | @moonwater-microfic | Words: 421

"Tell me you didn't have anything to do with this." Regulus' fury was clear from way down the aisle of books where Remus was sitting comfortably. He glances up, face blank. Regulus' hair is as green as his tie.

"I had nothing to do with this," he responds plainly, setting his book aside.

"Don't fucking lie to me," Regulus grumbles, but the gentleness in his eyes gives him away.

Remus shrugs, a coy smile playing at his lips. "Pick one; I can either not lie to you, or I can tell you I had nothing to do with it... But I can't do both."

Regulus huffs, dropping down beside him.

"Or," Remus continues, turning his fingers through Regulus' hair and catching bits of silvery glitter as he does, "I can just tell you it really brings out your eyes - no, really. It suits you."

Regulus rolls his eyes, sitting back.

"How long will it last?" he asks after a moment of silence passes between them.

"Ah…"

Something about the way Remus hesitates causes Regulus to fix him with a sharp look. "How long, Lupin?"

Remus releases a short chuckle, unfazed by Regulus' persistent frustration. "Well, that depends-"

"On?"

"How soon you're kissed."

"What the-"

"It'll resolve itself in a month, or when you're kissed. Whichever comes first. They were going after Snape, originally," he adds, by means of an explanation.

Regulus' lips narrow, and he glances down the aisle of the library.

"Go on then. Let's get it over with."

"Always so romantic," Remus mumbles as Regulus turns back, eyes wrinkling in pleasant anticipation, and caresses Remus' lips with his own.

They remain like that for a moment, neither taking it further, or withdrawing. Both boys' eyes had flickered closed.

It was only as a he felt a tongue dart out to brush his lip, that Remus pulled back in surprise.

"So," Regulus begins, his cheeks an unusual shade of pink. "Am I back to normal?"

Remus holds back on the obvious retort. "Hmm…" he eyes flicker to Regulus' head. "Maybe once wasn't enough-"

He hadn't finished speaking before Regulus' lips were back on his.

This time, when they part, Regulus' hair is a standard shade of black.

He looks suspiciously at Remus, lips puffed and eyes shining under the warm glow of the library lights. There was something else there, too. Something conspiratorial. At last, Regulus understands. "The spell didn't need a kiss, did it?"

His cheeks turning a shade redder, Remus shakes his head. "No, but… I did."

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ definitely not jackson

synopsis: jackson smith is annoying, and sirius is so over it. he keeps getting in your space, asking for "potions help," and sirius is not having it. so, naturally, he starts calling him the wrong name until jackson finally gets the hint. safe to say, sirius wins this round content warnings: jackson being annoying, sirius being extra petty, fluff overload, protective!sirius because of course

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 751

The chilly autumn air wrapped around you and Sirius as you strolled around the Hogwarts grounds, the leaves crunching underfoot as you both laughed and chatted about absolutely nothing and everything at once. He was holding your hand, swinging it back and forth in that casual way of his that always made your heart skip a beat. It felt like you two were in your own world—that is, until a familiar face came into view, heading straight toward you.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jackson Smith, a Hufflepuff in your year, waved enthusiastically, practically bounding over to you both.

Sirius instantly stiffened. He didn’t have a problem with Hufflepuffs, per se, but Jackson had a reputation for being… (annoying) persistent.

“Oh, hi, Jackson,” you said, your voice polite, but you felt Sirius’s grip tighten just slightly around your hand.

Jackson barely noticed. He sidled up next to you, casting a brief, dismissive glance at Sirius before focusing his attention solely on you. “Listen, I know this is super last minute, but I was wondering if you could maybe… help me with Potions sometime? Snape’s been giving me such a hard time, says I’m practically a disaster at it.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your grip tightening around Sirius’s hand as you forced a polite smile. “Um, I’m not sure I’d be the best—”

“Oh, nonsense!” Jackson interrupted. “You’re top of the class, aren’t you? And I think we’d make a great team. Snape just… doesn’t get me, you know?”

Sirius let out a barely concealed snort. “Well, that’s not exactly a Snape problem, is it, Justin?”

Jackson blinked, clearly irritated. “It’s Jackson. And I was just asking Y/N for a bit of help.”

“Of course, you were, Jerry,” Sirius replied, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I’m sure you really need help with Potions and aren’t just here to pester my girlfriend.”

Jackson flushed, looking more annoyed now. “It’s Jackson,” he repeated, his gaze narrowing as he glanced between the two of you. “Anyway, Y/N, you think you could make time?”

Before you could answer, Sirius cut in again. “Actually, Janus, we’re kind of on a date,” he said, feigning innocence as he smiled down at you. “So maybe your little Potions crisis can wait?”

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep it together as Jackson’s face turned a shade redder.

Jackson forced a stiff smile. “Right. Sorry to interrupt.” He turned on his heel and practically stormed off, muttering under his breath.

The second he was out of earshot, Sirius let out an exaggerated huff. “The nerve of some dickheads. Honestly, who does he think he is?”

You chuckle, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek, and his feigned annoyance melts into a wide grin. “You know you were kind of a dickhead too, right?”

He shrugs, turning to face you with a smirk. “Only for you. Can’t have any ‘Jaysons’ thinking they’ve got a chance with my girl.”

You chuckled. “You are hilarious,” you said, a warmth blooming in your chest.

Sirius’s expression softened instantly, his annoyed scowl melting away. He glanced at you, his lips twitching into a smile. “Oh? And here I thought you’d be annoyed with me.”

“Annoyed?” you laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully. “I thought it was adorable. Jackson didn’t stand a chance.”

Sirius’s cheeks pinked slightly, and he tried to brush it off, but you could see the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “Well… he was being a right git, wasn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, grinning as you pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him properly this time. He melted into it, his arms slipping around your waist as he held you tightly.

When you finally broke apart, he sighed, looking at you with that adoring glint in his eyes. “I’d deal with ten more annoying Jacksons just to see you smile like that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, snuggling closer as you whispered, “You don’t have to. I’m right here.”

Sirius smiled, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “And that’s all I need.”

When he pulls back, he’s smiling in that rare, soft way that’s just for you. “You’re stuck with me, you know.”

“Good,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with warmth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you as he rests his head on your shoulder. And, wrapped up in his arms, you can’t help but think that you’re exactly where you belong.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Second Chances

Summary: It’s not common knowledge that you have a superpower: regeneration. You didn’t think that would be a problem... Jason and Damian think otherwise.

Relationships: Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader, Damian Wayne & Jason Todd & Reader (platonic because they’re brothers duh)

DAMIAN WAYNE IS MY SON I LOVE HIM SO MUCH (I just watched the Supersons movie he makes me smile so hard)

Word Count: 4.8k

Content warning for temporary character death. Reader’s vigilante name is Ghoul, BTW.

Jason is in the shower when he hears someone break into his apartment.

He groans, makes sure all the shampoo is rinsed out of his hair, then grabs the knife mounted to his curtain rod. It’s not the first time someone has attacked him in the shower, and it probably won’t be the last. Still, Jason wishes they would at least give him time to grab a towel. It’s just as uncomfortable for him as it is for them.

This time, they actually do. Maybe they’re going to be polite enough to wait for him to finish cleaning all of Gotham’s sludge off his body. Jason would appreciate the sentiment more if the upcoming fight wouldn’t immediately dirty his body again with their blood.

He doesn’t turn off the shower when he steps out, dries his feet on the bath mat. He’s reaching for his towel when he hears one of the intruders say something.

He recognizes that voice.

Jason sticks his head out of the bathroom and glowers. “What are you doing here, brat?”

Damian Wayne, one of Bruce Wayne’s many children and the current Robin, scowls right back. “Why is your shower still running, Todd? Do you not care for conservation efforts? There are people in Michigan who would—”

“Okay, Dami,” interrupts another voice.

Jason’s whole body flushes. He makes sure every part of him except his face is hidden behind the door when a second person comes into view.

Your vigilante costume is zipped halfway, the top pulled down and sleeves tied around your waist, exposing the compression shirt with kevlar-like weave you wore beneath it. A large bandage is wrapped around your upper arm, growing redder by the second.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jason says. Does he sound too excited? Does he not sound excited enough?

You just smile. “Hey, Jace. Sorry, we came by for first aid supplies. We’ll be out of your hair in just a sec.”

“No, don’t rush on my account,” Jason says. Does he sound too desperate? “Just give me a—”

He ducks back into the bathroom to turn off the shower after making sure he’s clean and one hundred percent soap-free. Not expecting company, he’d only brought a pair of boxers and military-style shorts in with him. Rushing, hoping you don’t leave before he gets out (Damian can leave, though) he pulls both on and slams the door open.

It hits the wall so hard it rebounds back into Jason’s hand. You jump at the sound, nearly poking Damian with the needle in your hand.

“Watch it, idiot!” Damian snaps. To Jason, he says, “You just dented your wall. Moron.”

“Don’t talk to them like that,” Jason says sternly. God, he knows why the brat is so prickly, but he still got on Jason’s last nerves. He checks the wall, hoping the brat exaggerated, but nope. Another dent to match the nicks, scrapes, and bullet holes that already littered his apartment.

He is never getting back his security deposit.

You’re about to stitch up a cut on Damian’s arm when Jason clucks his tongue. “That doesn’t look good.” The bandage around your arm is sodden with blood.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say dismissively. “Ready, Dami?”

Interestingly enough, the brat doesn’t tell you off for giving him a nickname. It seems to be a privilege reserved exclusively for you and Dick; every time Jason tries, he’s vehemently told off.

Then again, his nicknames are usually derogatory. That might contribute to it a little bit.

Damian sets his jaw and you stitch him up quickly, murmuring, “I’m sorry,” every time his fingers twitch—the only indication of pain he’ll show. Jason eyes the bandage around your arm with worry, but the blood stain doesn’t grow any more in the interim.

As soon as you tie off the thread, Damian hops to his feet and scurries for the bathroom. You start to get up, brow pinched with worry, but Jason says, “Let me look at your arm.”

Your eyes take a while to slide from the shut bathroom door to Jason’s face, but then you say, “Yeah, okay,” and sink back into your chair.

To distract you as he unpeels the sticky bandage from your arm, Jason asks, “So you’re on babysitting duty now, huh?”

“Oh, no, Damian and I patrol together every Friday night.” You use finger quotes with the other hand and say, “B think it ‘promotes more accountability’ when someone gets injured during patrol if they have a partner.”

Jason frowns at the sight of the cut. It’s obviously from a knife, and not pretty, exactly, but also not big enough to let out as much blood as soaked through the bandage. “Who did this to you?”

“Just a typical goon. It’s really not a big deal.” Your eyes follow Jason’s gaze. “I guess it bled a lot, huh? Like a head wound. You know, disproportionate.” You tug your sleeve over the wound.

“Y/N is not as weak as the rest of you,” Damian sneers, having vacated the bathroom on silent feet. You jump, and so does Jason, even though he has Batman-honed instincts.

There’s just something intoxicating about your presence. You’re… distracting.

It was manageable back before Jason was Robin and you were one of his classmates. You were obsessed with Batman and crimefighting, and Jason was a bookworm, so your friendship shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

Then, ironically, Bruce Wayne adopted him and Jason became the crimefighter. He never told you about his identity to protect Bruce’s, but you figured it out when he died.

Then he came back to Gotham, hellbent on revenge, and burned every bridge he’d ever built. Including the one with you.

Jason still could barely believe you give him the time of day after all the awful things he’d said and done. But you’re just as obsessed with redemption and forgiveness as Bruce, and he will never take that for granted.

His fascination with you was manageable before Jason died, but it’s downright consuming now.

Jason can’t believe how you’d grown up to be so… so flat-out amazing. Graceful, and maybe not as skilled at hand-to-hand as the rest of Gotham’s vigilantes, but you adapt with a long-range fighting style. You’re strong, and self-assured, and really, seriously gorgeous.

Jason realizes his hand is still on your arm, touching the soft skin, and he yanks it away as if burnt. He doesn’t understand how you remain so scar-free despite years of crimefighting, and he’s abruptly self-conscious about the marks that litter his torso, arms, and legs. Your eyes roam over them, lingering on his chest and stomach

He’s most self-conscious about the jagged ‘J’ carved into his cheek, and Jason tries to cover it with his hand without drawing attention. That doesn’t work—he looks like a weirdo waving his hands around—so he tilts his cheek away so you don’t have to see it anymore.

You clear your throat and look away, as if embarrassed for some reason.

Damian’s gaze pingpongs between the two of you before he rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically. “Are you two finished?”

You push away from the table and make a grabby hand. Damian rolls his eyes again, but he sidles closer, and you check his stitched cut. Your thumb rubs over the raised line of stitches like you’re trying to wipe his pain away.

Jason realizes he’s staring at the bottom lip you’re jutting out in sympathy. He flushes again.

After everything he did, he can’t expect anything more than friendship from you. If that’s what you’re willing to give, he’ll never push for more.

“I am fine, Y/N,” Damian said, pushing your hand away, albeit gently. A hint of whine entered his voice and Jason blinked. It wasn’t often that he heard Damian sound like an actual kid. “Can we resume patrol now?”

“Wait,” Jason hears someone say, and it’s—him, he’s the one saying it. “Are you hungry? I have a casserole in the oven.”

Damian snorts. “My apologies. I did not know you had adopted the personality of a middle-aged white wom—”

You cover Damian’s mouth with your hand and say, “That sounds great, Jay. Thanks.”

Jason’s greedy. He’ll take whatever scraps he can get from you.

The three of you eat, the conversation pleasant whenever Damian isn’t threatening Jason because Jason taunted him. You laugh as they bicker, used to the antics of Gotham’s vigilantes by now.

Once everyone is done, it’s just about time for the Red Hood to start his patrol, so with a little cajoling from you, Damian agrees to let Jason tag along until your patrol ends. Jason suits up, and you lead the charge out of his apartment window, followed by Damian. Jason is last out, stopping briefly to make sure the window latches before stepping off the fire escape.

The sensation of his stomach rising is familiar from so many years of grappling through the city, but no less exhilarating. He follows your and Robin’s flipping shapes as the two of you tear through the city. The bright primary color accents on Robin’s suit and the pale gray color of your own shouldn’t blend in so well with Gotham’s shadows, but you and Damian manage pretty well. It turns into kind of a game of tag, and whenever he gets close enough, you grin and twist away, muffling laughter behind one hand.

He could definitely catch you, but he thinks you’re enjoying the game of cat-and-mouse just as much as he, if not more.

Jason’s just thinking to himself that there’s not much crime tonight when the Batsignal lights up the sky.

“Way to ruin the mood,” he grumbles. The game is over. The three of you grapple toward the giant light without any more flipping or laughter.

Jim Gordon obviously isn’t expecting them when they land. After all, it’s common knowledge that Ghoul is a Bat-affiliate, but Red Hood’s alliance with the Batclan is still relatively new. Shaky.

And a lot of people still think the Red Hood hates Ghoul. Admittedly, the way Jason tried to kill you when he returned hadn’t helped the rumors.

It made sense at the time. He’d also tried to kill Batman, Nightwing, and Robin, so it’s not like it was entirely personal. You don’t hold a grudge.

“Where’s Batman?” is his first question.

You shrug. “Running late.”

Jason’s not sure if that’s true. With you and Robin patrolling Newtown and Otisburg, Spoiler and Red Robin handling everything from the Coventry to the Upper East Side, and Black Bat and Batwing watching over everything else but the Tricorner, the city is in pretty good hands for the night.

And yes, Jason’s knowledge about patrol schedules is from his days as a crime lord, but it still comes in handy as a reformed vigilante.

“Why did you summon us here, Commissioner?” Robin asks.

“Bane escaped Arkham earlier tonight,” says the Commissioner. “We have reason to believe he’s hiding out in Amusement Mile. The Joker’s not out, for one, and we have a… witness… that claims to have seen Bane in the park.”

“Where is this witness?” Robin demands.

“In our holding cell, sobering up,” Gordon says with a long-suffering sigh.

“Oh, great,” Jason says. “So it might have been Bane, or it might have been one of those giant stuffed bears at every amusement park.”

You elbow him in the side and promise Gordon, “We’ll check it out, Commish. Let you know when he’s handled again!”

You and Robin balance on the edge of the roof. Jason asks in a low tone, “Batman’s not coming tonight, is he?” He would have already been here.

You and Robin share a guilty look.

Jason sighs. Bane is a tough opponent, possibly their strongest rogue. It’ll take a lot of force to bring him down… force he’s not sure you and Robin can muster. You’re good vigilantes, don’t get him wrong, but Robin is a prepubescent boy and has the height and muscle mass to show for it. You’re strong and graceful and should be fine as long as you keep your distance, but Jason’s the only one that comes close to Bane in terms of muscle mass.

It’ll be up to him to keep the two of you safe.

“I think I parked my bike somewhere around here,” you say. “It’ll get us there faster than grappling.”

Jason thinks something is stuck in his throat. He croaks, “You have a motorcycle?”

You nod. He can’t see your face beneath the mask, but he’s pretty sure you’re smiling. “Got it just a couple weeks ago, but I needed Earl to paint it over.”

“It is parked in that alley.” Robin points.

“Okay,” Jason says. “You two drive to my apartment. I’ll follow above, then we’ll head to Amusement Mile.”

“Aye-aye,” you joke. “Come on, bud.”

You and Robin swing away, the younger boy loudly complaining about the myriad nicknames you think up for him. Jason swings away to get a headstart. A minute later, the sound of a bike engine revving hits Jason’s ears, and it isn’t long after that he looks down to see you and Robin on a pale bike painted in the same colors as your suit.

You look up and wave.

Jason almost misses his next swing. He swallows and has to look away. Seeing you on a motorcycle…

As soon as he puts the key in his bike’s ignition, you speed away, tires squealing against the asphalt. Jason grins and twists the throttle. He shoots onto the street and hunches low to decrease wind resistance, pushing the bike hard to catch up to you.

You wear no helmet, but you’d forced Robin to wear one. He sits behind you on the bike, arms locked around your waist. At the sight of Jason, he makes a rude gesture, but Jason just huffs out a laugh. The brat likes to aggravate him on purpose, but it’s hard to feel annoyed when he drives next to you, racing side-by-side.

It doesn’t take long to reach Amusement Mile. You and Jason shift gears, rolling to a stop.

“You and Robin go high,” Jason instructs. “I’ll go low.”

“Roger.” You kick the stand for your bike, then you and Robin shoot your grapples for the nearest roof.

In seconds, the two of you are out of sight.

Jason swallows. He hates this strip of clown-themed land. The Joker isn’t in it currently, but it still reminds him of that madman.

Come on. He shakes himself. Jason can’t afford to get distracted. Bane is dangerous.

Jason makes no effort to muffle the sounds of his footsteps as he strolls through the park. A plastic bag drifts along the path with a gust of wind, and a couple bowling pins on the ground roll. But apart from that, the park is empty and quiet.

Too quiet.

Jason turns just in time to avoid a crushing blow to his head.

He hits the ground rolling and comes up with guns blazing. Bullets deflect off Bane’s armor, and he doesn’t seem to feel the ones that burrow into his skin.

“You will not stop me, Red Hood,” says the mechanized voice. “No one will stop me in my pursuit to break Batman, even though he sent you in his place.”

“He didn’t send me,” says Jason.

Help comes from above. A steel bola—one of your weapons of choice—whips through the air and wraps around Bane’s throat. He chokes and reaches up to untangle it. At the same time, a Batarang slices through the air and cuts straight through one of the hoses pumping super-steroid into his body.

He groans. Drops to one knee.

Jason spares a glance to the rooftops, but he only sees Robin.

That moment of distraction costs him. Bane surges back to his feet and tackles him. Jason hits the ground, the back of his head colliding against the pavement so hard his vision blacks out for a moment.

He blinks away the darkness in time to see a punishing fist aimed right for his head. There’s not enough time to dodge. Jason can only brace for an impact… that never comes.

The hook of a grapple is embedded into Bane’s wrist. Its line is taught. On the roof of a decrepit popcorn stand, Robin yanks back with all his might.

Jason knees Bane in the crotch, then elbows him in the face.

Bane grunts and yanks his arm forward, pulling Robin right to the ground in a flutter of cape, but Jason slips out from beneath him and rolls to his feet. Bane may be strong, and his hits may hurt, but that’s only if they connect. And Bane isn’t very fast.

The engine of a bike roars, and your voice shouts, “Hood, out of the way!”

Jason obeys without thinking. It’s a good thing he doesn’t hesitate, because he barely dodges your motorcycle before you ram it full-speed into Bane.

Not even the giant can resist a motorcycle going full-throttle. He topples back, and you keep driving, treating his body like a ramp.

Jason laughs despite himself. “I can see tire tracks on your face, ugly!” He and Robin throw knives at the same time. Robin’s slices off another steroid line. Jason’s lodges in Bane’s shoulder. It should have severed his deltoid, leaving his arms useless, but the man doesn’t react to the pain at all.

Getting run over pisses Bane off. You turn in a sharp circle on the bike and rev your engine, obviously ready to try the same trick twice.

But Jason sees the tension in Bane’s legs, and he’s shouting for you to stop after you start.

You don’t listen. You just drive.

Bane sidesteps your bike at the last possible second, and his arm shoots out. His hand is large enough to wrap around your entire throat, and it yanks you off your bike, which skids away with a screech of tire and metal. You choke, scrabbling at the iron fingers around your throat.

Jason has his gun out in a second, but Bane holds your body in front of his. So Jason shoots his foot. It doesn't have an effect.

“Ghoul!” Robin shouts. He unsheathes his katana.

“I tire of this,” Bane says through his modulator.

He snaps your neck.

“NO!”

It’s like the world slows down. Jason can only watch as Bane carelessly drops your lifeless body.

He sees Robin lunge with his sword. He sees Bane casually backhand him so hard he drops his katana. Robin flies backward, hits the popcorn stand, and slumps to the ground, motionless.

Bane steps on you—your body—and something in your spine cracks. Something in Jason’s chest cracks, too, and he sees green.

The Pit surges.

After it recedes, Robin’s katana is lodged firmly in a moaning Bane’s side. Every one of his steroid pumps is severed, and his mask is cracked. He’s weak enough without his Venom that three Bat-restraints and a set of handcuffs can hold him.

Huh. Jason’s surprised he didn’t kill him.

His knuckles are bleeding; they’re slick inside his gloves. When he flexes his fingers, pain screams up his nerves, through his arm all the way to his heart. At least two are broken, and another knuckle might be dislocated. His jaw hurts, his brain is pounding—concussion, probably—and his knee feels swollen. But he can put pressure on it, at least, and he limps to a stirring Robin.

“Hey,” Jason says. His voice is rough. He doesn’t remember yelling. He tries to crouch, but can’t with the stiff knee, so he just kind of collapses in front of the kid. “Robin. Status report.”

The kid looks at him, wobbling even though he’s sitting down. One hand goes up to touch the back of his head, and the tips of his gloves gleam with dark blood when he pulls it back. “Possible concussion,” he says with a wavering voice. “Ribs—”

Robin gasps and stumbles to his feet.

“Don’t—”

Jason tries to grab him, but Robin wobbles out of his reach. He walks hunched over in a zigzag, limping to your—

Jason grunts and stands back up. “Hey, hey, Robin.” He gets between the kid and you. “Don’t. Don’t—don’t look.”

“Do not stop me, Todd,” hisses the kid, and wow, he must be seriously out of it to use Jason’s civilian name. “Let me see them.”

“You don’t want to,” Jason says grimly. He’s seen snapped necks before, and they’re… Well, they’re as unnatural-looking as they sound.

He hears a rushing in his ears. A wave of grief is cresting, ready to sweep him away, but Jason has to keep it together for Robin. He barely hears his own voice when he says, “Ghoul’s gone.” He can’t say the ‘D’ word. Not when he feels like puking.

“Unhand me, you blackguard,” Robin hissed. “You do not understand. They might be—”

“They’re not.”

“Todd!” the kid says, voice rising into a shrill.

Something clicks behind them.

Jason whirls around to make sure Bane hasn’t broken out of his restraints.

He hasn’t.

So what made the noise?

He and Robin are looking right at the body when some invisible force takes your head and—and wrenches it.

Robin lets out a low cry.

Jason feels frozen. He doesn’t stop the kid when he stumbles forward and collapses next to the body. His shoulders shake, head bowed with grief.

Jason is still watching when he sees your chest rise and fall with a breath.

“Oh, what the fuck,” he whispers, stumbling back. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the—”

Your head raises, and you reach to your neck with a wince.

Robin freezes.

“Ow,” you grumble, pushing up to your elbows. “That sucked.”

“What the fuck?” Jason exclaims.

“What is going on?” Robin demands.

You look between the two vigilantes. “Sorry to freak you out, guys.” Which is a completely underwhelming thing to say when you just died and then unsnapped your own neck.

Robin makes a low, wounded sound, then throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing hard. You hug him back just as tight, murmuring low things that Jason tries not to hear. It’s a personal moment, and he feels like an intruder, but he can’t move. His feet are planted to the ground.

Seconds ago, you’d been dead. No doubt about it. Bane had snapped your neck and you had crumbled like paper.

Now you’re breathing and alive.

It doesn’t compute. It doesn’t make any sense.

Robin comes to the same conclusion, because he pulls away and pinches your arm. “How is this possible?”

“Bud, do you remember when… you remember when Pyg got me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I don’t,” says Jason. Professor Pyg kidnapped you? What the fuck? When did that happen?

You look up at him, still holding Robin close. “We weren’t exactly on speaking terms when it happened, Hood.”

Oh.

“But Father ran his tests and said his experimentation just gave you advanced healing,” says Robin.

“Which is technically true—”

“Resurrection is quite different from healing!” the kid says.

“Wait, you knew they had powers?” Jason asks Robin.

The kid sneers at him. “Of course. I was the one that found Ghoul, and I patrol with them at least once a week. It would take an unobservant fool to miss their obvious healing abilities."

Jason bristles with indignation.

Robin's head turns on a swivel to glare at you. "It was less obvious that you have nothing to fear from physical injuries. Informing me of this fact would have greatly reduced the chances of experiencing emotional distress at the sight of your dead, mangled body."

"I know," you say, cupping his chin in your hand. "I'm really, really sorry, Dami."

"Do not address me as such," he says, "we are in costume." Robin huffs and scrambles out of your lap, brushing debris off his suit. Then he wobbles and nearly falls over, and you lunge to catch him.

"Woah, bud, you okay?"

"He's concussed," Jason says.

"Too concussed to ride on the back of my bike?"

"Of course not," says Robin. Then he leans over and pukes.

"Oh, Batman's gonna kill me," you mutter.

It's a much tamer drive to the Batcave, in case Robin rolls off the bike accidentally. He doesn't, but you do have to stop a couple of times so he can lean over the side and retch.

When all is said and done and you're back at the Cave and Alfred and Bruce are fussing over Damian, you and Jason hang back a bit. He can't stop sneaking glances at you. Your Ghoul mask is off, and there's a little dried blood around your nostrils, and your hair is a little sweaty, but you're the most beautiful thing Jason's ever seen.

You're alive. He can hardly believe it.

You suddenly sigh and mutter, "I guess you're mad at me, too?"

"What?" Jason startles.

"For not telling you about my abilities."

"Y/N—"

"I just didn't want you guys to think of me differently. Duke has his powers, yeah, but he was born with them. I got mine from Pyg. I didn't want everyone to start treating me like a victim."

All things considered, you're remarkably well-adjusted for someone that survived Professor Pyg's experimentation. "You're the strongest person I've ever met, Y/N," says Jason. "Your powers don't change that. They make me feel a little better about you patrolling at night, anyway. They're basically like... a second chance."

You snort. "I think I'm on my fifth chance by this point."

Jason shakes his head. "How did you keep your powers a secret, again?"

"Well, the first time, Pyg shut off my heart, but that didn't shut down my body. When I actually noticed that I couldn't die, though, was that time one of Cobblepot's goons stabbed me in the neck and I woke up in the middle of a shootout. Now that wasn't fun." You grimace. "A bullet caught me in the head and I died as soon as I sat up. The Bats were too preoccupied to notice me, luckily. Then there was that time with the poison dart that I kept a secret, and now this time." You smirk, cross your arms, and bump Jason's hip with your own. "I'm beating you in the resurrection department, aren't I?"

Jason huffs, pretending to be offended, and your eyes widen. "Oh, my God. That was in such poor taste. I'm so sorry."

"No," he says, trying to hide the twist of his lips. If it was anyone else saying it, Jason would probably kill them. "No, it's okay. I'm just glad you're all right. It would have been awful if you'd died and I never took the chance to..."

"Chance to what?" You look up at him through your eyelashes.

Jason's breath catches in his throat. He's never done this before, dammit, but seeing you die today made him remember just how limited their time is as vigilantes.

Well, maybe not yours, but he walks a thin line.

"Doyouwanttogetcoffeewithme?"

You blink. "What?"

"Do you," Jason says slowly, feeling sweat prickle on his hairline, "want to... Um. Get coffee? With me. As in, like—"

"A date?"

"Only if you want to."

You nod, eyes sparkling. "Hell yeah I want to!"

Damian, Bruce, and Alfred look over at your raised voice. Their disapproving smiles are all eerily similar.

"Sorry," you whisper. You look back at Jason and say, "Yeah, I'd like that. I've been waiting ages for you to ask."

Yes. You said yes. Adrenaline rushes through Jason's veins, and he only barely resists the urge to pump his fist in the air like a moron. He's brave enough to tease, "Well, why didn't you ask me?"

Your face flushes and you look away.

It's at that moment that Damian calls, "Y/N. Stop twittering with Todd and come here. Your presence is required."

"Seriously," Jason said under his breath, "the way he talks like a Victorian child doesn't bother you at all?"

You're smiling. "I think he's adorable." You walk backwards to the brat, making a phone gesture with your hand and mouthing to Jason, Call me.

He definitely will.

"Master Jason," comes Alfred's disapproving voice when he turns back to his bike. "Don't think I didn't notice that you have your own injuries to tend to."

Of course, that sets off Bruce's worry alert even more.

Jason groans. He won't be able to sneak out for coffee with you for an entire week after this whole debacle.

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