#the amount of time this has sat in my drafts is embarrassing

[zealouswerewolfcollector]

A Tale That Wasn't Right

Belated entry for @silmarillionepistolary

2406 words, M, Maedhros/Fingon

Warnings: violence but not very graphic

On Ao3

NOLDÓRAN ARCHIVES PROJECT

MANUSCRIPT 26328-lambe

Records of the Hearing Convened by Finwë Noldóran Concerning the Incident Occurred Between Two Highborn Eldar

Editor’s note: Perhaps one of the most fascinating manuscripts among the royal records, 26328-lambe has been classified for Ages. Only now, well into the Fifth Age, it has finally been released to the public. 

Certainly, the reluctance to publicize these records must be due to the scandalous subject matter and the involvement of highly recognizable figures of the Years of the Trees. We shall refrain from speculations as to the identity of the involved parties and redact or change several identifying details as per the request of King Arafinwë.

The manuscript is also distinguished because of the considerably biased notes of the unnamed scribe, possibly one who did not continue their service for long. Despite their unconventional approach to their role, we have this scribe to thank for the preservation of the very first draft of the records.

Without further ado, we invite the reader to peruse the records and draw their own conclusions.  

At the second hour of the Mingling of [precise date omitted], the Noldóran convened a private hearing, concerning an altercation between two highborn Eldar that has been brought to the Noldóran’s attention. 

Present at the meeting

Finwë Noldóran

[redacted], tavernkeeper of the tavern [redacted] in Tirion

Finwë Noldóran’s humble scribe

Noldóran: Let us begin. Tavernkeeper, I would hear all that occurred between [title omitted] N and [title omitted] F.

Tavernkeeper: Where should I begin, lord?

Noldóran: When did you first notice their presence at your tavern?

Tavernkeeper: Immediately, lord. It was the first time such highborn lords visited my establishment. [Title omitted] F was the first to arrive. He sat in a corner and ordered [drink name omitted to avoid identification]. I did not know how to make it. He kindly explained it to me. He was three cups in when [title omitted] N joined him.

Editor’s note: Henceforth, the omission of the titles will not be mentioned. Let it be noted that the involved parties were addressed appropriately throughout the hearing.

Noldóran: Did you notice any enmity between them when N arrived?

Tavernkeeper: Not at all! F did look ill-pleased at seeing N, but I assumed it was due to N’s tardiness. N whispered something into F’s ear, which seemed to appease him.

Noldóran: How so?

Tavernkeeper: After, well, the whispering, F smiled and ordered more drinks. [Drink name omitted] for himself again and simple mead for N.

Scribe’s note: Only a son of [redacted] would drink such an abomination. 

Noldóran: Could you perhaps hear parts of their conversation?

Tavernkeeper: I would not presume to eavesdrop on a conversation between such highborn lords.

Noldóran: Not even if it was to the benefit of your king?

Tavernkeeper: Alas, the tavern was busy, lord, and they spoke in very low voices, so I missed the beginning of their discussion.

Noldóran: So you mean to say you heard the ending, the part before the incident.

Scribe’s note: If this tavernkeeper does not hurry up and tell the interesting  parts, I may die of boredom in front of the King and embarrass myself and my entire family.

Tavernkeeper: They stayed long after the tavern emptied. I must say, lord, they had drunk quite a lot, so their voices were raised. I did not eavesdrop on purpose.

Noldóran: I do not fault you, tavernkeeper. Do recount the argument arising between N and F.

Editor’s note: To make for easier reading, the argument is relayed here directly. Readers must trust that they shall miss only a great amount of hesitation by the tavernkeeper to report to the King the exact details of the conversation and the number of drinks N and F consumed meanwhile, which is high.

F: It has always been your greatest fault! N: Loyalty? F: Loyalty to the wrong person. N: Who would the right person be then? [long silence] N: It is not in your nature to avoid a question. F: Why speak if you know the answer well? N: You cannot fathom what you demand of me. F: Only to do the right thing. Is it too much to ask for? N: Ever you have shown nothing but contempt to my father. You do not know him as I do. F: You are blind to his faults. N: I am not. But, unlike you, I am familiar with his virtues, too. F: Any virtue he possesses pales before his vices. N: Is it not unfair to speak so when you have made no attempt to understand him? F: He deserves none. N: Do I? Do it for my sake. I would do it for you. I have done it for you. F: It was not for me. You had taken a liking to my father long before I was born. He is easy to love. N: How naive for someone who claims to know others with no effort. You say I am blind to my father’s faults, yet you see none in yours. F: He has none. N: I can name one. Just now, he made you lie to me and to yourself. F: My father is blameless in this! N: Of course, only mine is to blame for everything. F: What is the use of seeing his faults if you do nothing about them? N: What do you expect me to do? F: I told you. The right thing. N: Why did you summon me here? We are only repeating ourselves again and again. We shall never agree. F: If only you were less stubborn. N: I am no more stubborn than you. Why should I be the one to relent? What will you sacrifice? F: Have I not sacrificed enough? Have I not endured your father’s scorn without protest? Have I not stayed by your side through all of it? N: What a great sacrifice it must be for you to stay by my side! Have you overlooked that I did the same? Or perhaps you believe it is easier for me? F: If it is not, then we both know who to blame. I suppose I must be grateful you have gathered enough courage to even agree to speak with me. Have you told your father where you will be? N: Have you told yours? F: You give me no answer as expected, but I shall answer you. I have not only because my father has no perverse need to keep watch over his children’s every move. He is not cowardly enough to look for betrayal where there is none. N: You will not call my father a coward! Have I ever treated your father with such disdain? F: Why would you? He does not deserve it. N: But mine does? F: Doesn’t someone who belittles others to hide his own weakness, who is craven enough to forge weapons in secret, deserve to be treated with contempt? N: Do not speak so, I warn you. F: What will you do? Leave and shun me as always? Disregard my letters and flee when I try to visit? Run to your father to assure him of your loyalty, so you can stave off his bitterness and suspicion for a while longer? 

Noldóran: Do go on! What happened then?

Tavernkeeper: I hesitate, lord, for even now, I can scarcely believe it.

Noldóran: Nevertheless, I would hear it.

Tavernkeeper: After those words, N, well, he struck F.

Noldóran: Struck him?

Tavernkeeper: He did. A mighty fist against F’s jaw.

Noldóran: Are you certain that it was N who struck first?

Tavernkeeper: Quite certain, lord. I must say I had lost count of the cups they had both drunk by that point.

Scribe’s note: Liar! It does not sound like N. Although, the son of [redacted] would have deserved it.

Noldóran: Please continue. Spare no detail.

Tavernkeeper: The blow was strong enough that F fell from his chair. They both looked as astounded as I was. I thought N wished to offer a hand to F, but instead, he turned back and moved to the door. That was when F pounced on him and brought him down. They tumbled together, grappled, and shoved each other against the walls. They damaged five chairs and two tables during their brawl as well as all the cups and plates that were on them. F twisted N’s wrist in an attempt to restrain him, but N wrapped F’s braids around his other hand and wrenched him away. They were on the floor once again by then. N tried to rise, but F took a broken chair leg and hurled it towards N. It hit the mark rather painfully. In response, N threw a half-empty goblet at F, which missed his head but drenched his hair in ale.

Editor’s note: The sketch of King Finwë with his head in his hands is presumably drawn by the scribe.

Noldóran: What then?

Tavernkeeper: They must have exhausted themselves because they remained lying on the floor for a while. I was afraid to approach them, but I also hesitated to leave in case they resumed their fight.

Noldóran: Did they?

Tavernkeeper: No… They did something else.

Noldóran: …what was it?

Tavernkeeper: F sat and helped N up. N said something to F in a very low voice. F answered. I could not hear the words. And then they… They kissed, lord.

Noldóran: A kiss between friends?

Tavernkeeper: I would not say so.

Scribe’s note: This does sound like N.

Noldóran: Did you see what happened after the so-called kiss?

Tavernkeeper: No, lord. I hurried to leave. That was all I saw, I swear.

Noldóran: Thank you, tavernkeeper. I believe it goes without saying that what we have spoken about must remain within the walls of this hall. Of course, you shall be compensated generously for your losses. Scribe, there is no need to record this part.

Scribe: As you command, Noldóran.

Tavernkeeper: No word shall leave my lips, lord.

Noldóran: You have my gratitude.

Scribe’s note: Future generations of the Noldor, I shall have your gratitude for making and preserving these records. Glory to the House of [redacted]!

***

Fingers run between disheveled braids, smoothing them with gentleness in stark contrast with the violence they had yanked at them. Inhale. The faint perfume of almond oil wafts through the heavy scent of ale. They do not mix well. Maitimo says so.

“Who could have guessed?” Findekáno says dryly.

Maitimo’s fingers continue their tender way through Findekáno’s braids. Findekáno closes his eyes, his head turning where Maitimo guides him, willingly this time.

Languidly, he raises a hand and runs it – feather-light – across Maitimo’s face, across his left cheekbone where a hideous bruise is already forming.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Findekáno leans forward and retraces the path of his fingers with his lips, leaving a faint trail of red across Maitimo’s cheekbone. Maitimo’s eyes fall shut, his breath stutters. Findekáno takes Maitimo’s hand – the same one that split his lip open – and kisses the bloodied knuckles. Maitimo’s fingers entwine with Findekáno’s – a movement so familiar and practiced that it is almost an instinct.

Findekáno raises his head and presses his lips to Maitimo’s, but the moment Maitimo deepens the kiss, Findekáno pulls back with a hiss.

“It is bleeding again,” Maitimo says with dismay.

He takes a dampened rag and taps it tenderly against Findekáno’s lip, careful to avoid touching his bruised jaw. But Findekáno leans into his hand, his eyelids fluttering in something between pain and relief.

Maitimo undresses him, runs his fingers along his shoulders, caresses his chest, strokes his hips. Bruises are late to bloom and hard to find on Findekáno’s skin, unlike Maitimo, who is already painted red and purple. But Maitimo knows exactly where he had hurt Findekáno – an elbow to the sternum, a closed fist beneath the ribs, shoulders slammed against the edge of a table too many times.

Maitimo explores Findekáno’s body with hesitant touches, soothes his aches, brushes his fingers against the bruises. Does not apologize. The sound of Findekáno’s harsh breathing grows louder and louder until he grabs Maitimo’s hands and turns in his arms.

He bares Maitimo from the waist up in pained, hurried movements as if there is no time left. Maitimo winces when he raises his arms to allow Findekáno to disrobe him.

“Oh!” Findekáno exclaims, staring at the fresh bruise that covers most of Maitimo’s lower rib cage.

“Even inebriated, your aim is true,” Maitimo says.

Findekáno sinks down. Raises a hand to the bruise, then lets it fall. Leans forward and traces the uneven edges of the bruise with his lips, warms it up with his breath, soothes it with his tongue. Does not apologize.

Findekáno begins the work of relieving Maitimo of the rest of his clothing. Maitimo’s hands shake, then his knees, then his shoulders. Findekáno’s lips slide lower, ghost over Maitimo’s groin.

“You did not hurt me there,” Maitimo says, his voice coming out as bruised as his body is.

“How fortunate I still had some sense left,” Findekáno says.

Maitimo laughs, and for the briefest of moments, all pieces fall into their places – Findekáno before him, teasing him gently, making him laugh – so familiar and so right. But the tremors of laughter reach every aching place, reminding him sharply of what they did.

“Wait,” he says.

“Hush,” Findekáno says, holding Maitimo by his unhurt hip.

Maitimo looks down at Findekáno, kneeling on his bruised knees, looks at Findekáno’s swollen lip and beaten face.

“Who would do this?” he asks.

Findekáno draws back.

“Who hurts someone he loves and cherishes in such a cruel way?” Maitimo asks.

“You do,” Findekáno says. His gaze slowly passes over all the angry red marks he has left on Maitimo’s body. “And I.”

Maitimo sits before him.

“Will you swear it will never happen again?” he asks. “Can you give me your word that you will not do it again?”

Findekáno is silent for a moment.

“You cannot either,” he says then.

“No.”

“It is not right.”

“No.”

Findekáno leans his forehead against Maitimo’s. There is a small but painful bump on it from hitting it against a chair. It aches.

“You should leave,” Findekáno says.

“I should.”

“So should I.”

“Yes.”

They sit before each other, bare and bruised, hand in hand, skin to skin, amid the broken cups and chairs, amid the destruction they caused. None moves. 

[pinkdaisies9285]

Be My Baby

Jake Seresin x F!Reader (Callsign: Circe)

Warnings: Fluff, kinda Angst reader is making big girl decisions

Word Count: 1822

Author's Note: Yay new part! I decided to post this a little early. Reader really is going through it but don't worry the fluff will truly happen soon! Again, thank you to my lovely beta readers for reading through my rough draft and dealing with me! Enjoy!

You woke up with a jolt from the shrill noise of your alarm. Nonchalantly, you lean over and turn it off with a small sigh. 

It was Saturday, so you didn’t have to see Jake for at least two full days. Enough time to sort out your feelings and create a plan to either tell him how you feel or get over him. The more you think about it, the more you want to curl into a ball. Did you really want to forget about your feelings? Jake was everything to you and more. 

Yes, he was known not to have actual relationships but there was a part of you that hoped you could change that. Prove to him that one-night stands don’t have to be the standard for naval men. He could be with you and enjoy a great relationship. Maybe you were in over your head about this. Just thinking about it made you feel like you were going crazy, your chest making you feel like you were having a heart attack from the amount of emotions raging through you.

It made you think about how you were before you met Jake. You were known to be able to complete missions with ease; you never had any problems during training or the actual mission. It was magical some would say, which is how you got the callsign of Circe. Greek goddess of magic. When you heard that name for the first time it made you feel powerful. To be compared to a goddess was great for your confidence. Something that you didn't have a lot of when you weren’t in the sky.

It was that same callsign that was also one of the first reasons why you were doubtful about being with Jake. When Jake first met you, he asked for your callsign. You, being too enamored by his looks and slight southern drawl, missed the question completely. This resulted in Jake laughing at you and joking if you were actually a pilot. Feeling flustered, you quickly defended yourself about your skills and callsign. 

No one had made you feel unsettled like that since your elementary school show-and-tell where you got nervous and the entire class laughed at you. That day was still ingrained in your mind, the pit in your stomach that developed as more kids laughed at you, the clammy hands that you kept wiping on your bright pink pants, and the heat that graced your cheeks. All the emotions you felt as a kid were the ones you felt when Jake laughed about your lack of a response. 

After being embarrassed about your callsign, you spent the rest of the night at the Hard Deck sitting next to Bob and becoming friends with the quiet WSO. He let you know that Jake just liked to get under people’s skin. That wasn’t what made you flustered during the interaction, though, it was his green eyes staring into yours. They reminded you of the meadows you would explore as a kid. They were so full of emotion that didn’t match his cocky tone and facial expression. It made you curious about the egoistical pilot that Bob described as an asshole because must be more to him than getting on his coworkers’ nerves and taking home tag chasers from the bar. 

After the callsign mishap, you began to seek out Jake wanting to get to know him. The first time you did it, was at the mess hall three days after being transferred to San Diego and being added into the Dagger Squad. You had marched up to the table where Jake was sitting and asked if you could sit with him. “Sure why not? I would love to get to know more about the magical pilot that has been added to the squad.” He said this with that same cocky grin he had from the night at the Hard Deck. 

So you mustered up some courage and you sat down with your plate. You and Jake asked each other questions ranging from where you went for flight school to more personal things like your favorite novels and movies. You learned that Jake had an older sister and a niece that he spoils rotten. You also learned that he was closer to his mom than his dad. When he told you this it seemed like there was more to it but you didn't pry. 

In return, you told him about your dog, Electra, and how you were raised by your grandparents because your parents passed away when you were young. Your family life wasn't something that you told many people about but felt comfortable telling Jake. Before either of you noticed, it was time to get back to work. 

That conversation with Jake left you thinking about him every night. How he listened when you were talking. How he was very expressive when mentioning his sister and niece. Everything about him seemed more complex than what the naked eye could see, and this conversation shed light on that. It made you feel like admiring the man didn’t sound as bad as some had conjured it up to be. That feeling only continued growing when Jake decided to seek you out almost every day in the mess hall after your silly little game of 20 Questions. He sat with you and continued to learn more about you. It made you feel special and wanted, yet it always went down the drain when he went home with a new woman every Friday at the Hard Deck. It confused you that Jake would talk and what seemed like flirting with you during the week but then turn around and pick up some leggy girl that looks his direction at the bar. 

This same confusion was what you decided to sort out your feelings this weekend. Whether it was confessing your feelings or burying them six feet into the ground, you would be tearing your heart out for Jake. 

Finally getting up for the day, you padded over to your bathroom to take a shower. You turned on your speaker while the shower was heating up. Putting your hand under the stream, content with the temperature, you step in. Humming along with the music, you think about the pros and cons surrounding Jake. 

If you know how to be my lover.  

Pro: Jake seemed like he could be a great lover if he got the chance.

Pro: Every time he flirted with you at lunch, he used the smoothest lines that made you feel important. 

Maybe you can be my baby. 

That important feeling was something that gave you hope that he would respond to your confession in the way you wanted. 

Hold me close under the covers. 

Con: yet, when you think about every Friday at the Hard Deck, where Jake ignores you and goes for the first tag chaser that looks his way, and it crushes that hope that he would reciprocate your feelings. 

By the time you go through all the other pros and cons on your mental list, the water was starting to get cold. You quickly hopped out of the shower, before you started drying off to finish your routine before you made your way to the kitchen to pop a bagel into the toaster. While waiting for that, you quickly make a cup of iced coffee with the new coffee machine your grandma gave you for Christmas. 

Thinking about your grandmother, you wonder if she would like Jake. Would he use his Southern charm to convince her that he was worthy of you? Or would your grandma see right through him and know that he had a playboy reputation? 

The sound of the toaster popping up the bagel shook you out of your thoughts. Quickly preparing it the way you’ve done since you were ten, you sat down in the living room. You alternated between taking bites out of your bagel and sipping your coffee. Could you figure out what to do about your feelings for Jake? The more you thought about it, the more your anxiety spiked. 

Now finished with your brunch, you decided to walk around the block. You were going through every single habit you had that helped calm your nerves. Shrugging on a light jacket and locking the door, you began your small jaunt around the neighborhood. It was full of small houses that were occupied by military couples, families, and officers. You never had time to interact with your neighbors except when you did these walks to clear your mind. It was always small talk but it allowed you to have some interaction with people outside of your circle. While walking today you waved to the sweet couple that just recently had their first kid. Every time you saw them, you imagined yourself in their shoes with Jake. Happy with some kind of family with him, whether that was a kid or a pet. 

Moments like this made you feel like you should try to reach out to him and make him see what you could offer. See that you could make an actual relationship worth it.

By now, you were halfway around the neighborhood, but not wanting to finish your walk so soon, you decided to walk into an area you weren’t as familiar with. You began going back to the pros of why you should admit your feelings to Jake. 

Pro: you thought that you were a great catch in many ways: a great pilot, a solid cook, and most men you have dated in the past thought you pretty attractive. But what was it that made you not noticeable to Jake besides being coworkers? Were you really “one of the guys?” 

All these questions made your head spin.

“Circe?” the voice made you shoot up your head quickly. There stood Jake with a surprised look on his face. He was out of uniform, wearing a tight black t-shirt with jeans. You loved seeing him in regular clothes, it made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

“Oh, hi, Jake,” you said nervously. “I didn’t know you lived here?”

“I just moved in recently. I got tired of the barracks,” he replied while putting his hands in his pockets.

“Ahh, that makes sense. The barracks aren’t the greatest,” you said nodding.

“Would you like to come in?” He asked while gesturing to the door.

“Sure,” you walked up to him and followed him inside. If you were nervous before, then this feeling was even worse. You were walking into a territory you've never been in before. Yet, it made you realize that this might be the best time to confess. 

If you did this now and it failed, you would have at least one day to mourn your feelings and begin moving on. 

If it goes well, then this would be a new turning point. 

It was now or never. 

Tag List: @nerdgirljen @just-in-case-iloveyou @tgmreader @jessicab1991 @gaysnowrose @mamaskillerqueen @waywardhunter95 @minejungwoo @djs8891 @mrsevans90

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Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

[s0lar-ch3ri]

sherrifs and soda cans. (a deacon and soda fic)

spoilers for around ep i think 7 of the suckening and also warnings for ooc bs, welcome to my draft posting moments baby

this got ao3ed too btw

Leave it up to Theo to get stuck in a jail cell again. Spray painting shouldn’t be that bad a crime, right? Maybe he knew this. Maybe he didn’t care. Just his luck too, the one on duty is the Sheriff Deacon Keller! He watched the cells, Theo sitting in his. He was a lot more cooperative, yet more impatient seeming as he sat tapping his foot. The sheriff finally conceded to his confusion.

“Aight kid, what got you puttin' yourself in here?”

“What do you mean man?”

“Playing dumb won’t get you anywhere boy. You’re acting all twitchy, makes me think you got something up your sleeve.”

“I got nothing. Someone just had to come and arrest me for my fun, and it of course had to be you…Is it just me in here tonight? Nobody else really?”

Deacon raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t be. Spill the beans Theodor, what’s going on boy?”

“Tsh, nothing.” A moment of silence passed through. “So like, nobody.”

“Theo.”

“Fine! I don’t know where Emizel is.”

“So how does getting arrested play into this?”

“I hoped he maybe got put in here. Or you knew, and I just took a chance and hoped you were on duty, something like that. I just- I dunno, it’s been like, 2 weeks! He’s off the grid and I just…” It was in that moment Theo realized who he was rambling to. Any amount of pride or confidence he had was now down the drain.

Deacon was silent for a moment. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke up. “I’ve seen him as much as you have and know the same. There are other ways of contacting me you know.”

“I’d rather be shot in the head then take the embarrassment, thanks.”

“So being put behind bars for the night isn’t the slightest bit humiliating?” Deacon teased.

“Fuck off man.” Theo gritted back.

“What I do know though, if it makes you feel any better, is he’ll be fine. He’s a resilient kid, Emizel, vampire or non-vampire.”

“I know that. He’s the strongest and smartest dude I know. I’m just…fuck, I’m worried. I’m not really scared if he’s dead, he can handle that, I’m worried he’s hurt.”

Deacon sighs. “He’s fine, I’m certain.”

“Like I’ve trusted government words before.”

“I’m not- I won’t even start.”

“...Could- No, fuck, that’s stupid Theo.” He hit himself in the face.

“Speak your mind son, we’re gonna be here for a couple more hours.”

“...That’s the issue. I-” Theo sighed, thinking carefully on his next words. “If Emizel’s not here I don’t wanna waste time fucking sitting in a cell doing nothing. I’m not normally a beggar but-”

“You wanna get out earlier to look for him.”

“It’d be only this once man, come on! We go back a bit! Kinda!”

Deacon took a close look at Theo, reading him. There was a crazed desperation behind his eyes, ridden with tiredness and anxiety. Somehow, he was even more worried than he was letting on. Theo really was, his best friend (and boyfriend but we don’t need to jump into that) was missing without a trace, and he was powerless to do anything. He couldn’t know what was going on because he wasn’t a vampire and was running with only the knowledge Emizel had gave him. Maybe Emizel could handle a hit, but Theo (if he’d ever say it aloud) couldn’t handle Emizel taking a blow.

“...Don’t make me regret this son.”

“Wait, really?” He didn’t believe that’d work. Theo had to fight himself just to keep his dignity (or the little speck that wasn’t long gone yet)  and not over thank Deacon. Deacon kept an eye on Theo as he walked out the cell, making sure he didn’t try anything. Before he left the station, Theo looked back over at Deacon.

“...Thanks old man. It, uh, means a lot.”

“Don’t cause more trouble tonight now son.”

“I’ll try.”

Theo wasn’t just talking about trouble causing. Trying to find Emizel still. Not worrying about Emizel. He’d be fine. He has to be. Theo keeps talking about more than himself. His thoughts were scatterbrained as Deacon watched him walk back from whence he came. In a silent voice, Deacon found himself saying…

“Good luck son.”

[just-mary-ann]

YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IS IT!? IT'S HARLEQUIN SWAP AU TIME!

Harlequin swap AU by: @tadc-harlequin-au

Based on the draft of me and @mrs-nightshade

Honorable mention: @thore-lb

I will tag this as showtime because it's one of the main ships of this fanfic, but there's more flipcard in this chapter.

Lavender. Chapter 4

⚠️WARNING ⚠️ suggestive topics and non-explisit "The talk"

- Coffee.

Able stepped out of his room with a single word on his lips. He needed coffee. His body craved caffeine intravenously. It was early morning, and he didn’t expect to run into anyone in the hallway. Yet, a harlequin figure strolled down the stairs. Her hair covered her face, and she walked with a sort of slouching gait.

“Didn’t think Pomni would be up this early,” Able muttered, watching the bunker resident make her way to the kitchen and deciding to follow her.

In the kitchen, the harlequin poured an excessive amount of coffee grounds into the coffee maker—far more than necessary.

“Uh... Pomni... you don’t usually drink it this strong,” Able said, tilting his head.

Once the machine finished hissing, and its contents were poured into a pink mug, the harlequin sat down at the table and took her first sip. Instantly, she straightened up, pushed her hair back, and opened her eyes wide.

“Ahh... Finally, the morning begins,” Lilac exhaled, continuing to drink her coffee.

“Uh... Lilac?” Able was still standing in the doorway.

“Oh! Good morning,” Lilac replied with a wide smile.

Able stood there for a few seconds before heading to the coffee maker. Once his coffee was ready, he sat across from the harlequin. A heavy silence filled the kitchen.

“So…” Able broke the quiet. “How’s life in the bunker? You’ve been here a while now.”

“It’s strange not having daylight through a window, but I’ve adjusted,” Lilac replied, taking another sip of her coffee.

Silence returned. Awkward silence. Tense silence. The two of them had absolutely nothing to talk about. However, Lilac had a question brewing.

“Able,” she began. “I have a favor to ask.”

“I’m not promising anything, but I’ll listen,” he replied.

“you are so strong and precipitous. You're fascinating. My heart is always beating faster when i watch your fights. I know that it's not lady like to ask such inappropriate things, but i can't help myself. My body is so tense i feel like I'm going to explode. So please, please, pretty please! Could you..."

“No.” Able’s reply was abrupt. “Just no.”

“B-but you didn’t even let me finish!” Lilac was stunned.

“I refuse to do that with you. We’re not on that level of a relationship.”

“But how can I convince you otherwise?” Lilac asked, lowering her head in embarrassment.

“You can’t. That’s to me to decide. But don’t get your hopes up.”

Lilac sighed.

“I suppose you’re right. Anyway, fighting isn’t for girls.”

Able’s gaze sharpened.

“Wait. You wanted to learn how to fight?”

“Yes, but you’re right. I shouldn’t have even thought about it.”

“Well… I could give you a couple of lessons.”

“You just said no.”

“Be clearer with your wording,” Able muttered. “I didn’t understand your request.”

Lilac blinked a few times before her face turned bright red, and she covered it with her hands.

“Wait. You thought I was asking you to sleep with me?!”

“I’m really sorry,” Able said, turning away.

“How crude! I’m a proper lady! How could you think that of me?!” Lilac rambled on.

“So, should I teach you, or do you want to keep ranting about what a pervert I am?” Able interrupted, attempting to silence her.

“Let me finish my coffee first,” Lilac grumbled, taking an angry sip.

After they finished their coffee, Able told Lilac to change her clothes to something more comfortable for training.

“I will wait for you in my room” He said to her.

Firstly, Lilac wanted to complain, that the bunker has a training room, but then she realized, that is her chance to spend some time with her dear Able. Some ALONE time with him. She made a nod, trying to hide her smile.

“Are you thinking about something vulgar?” Able asked with a straight face.

“WHAT? NO!” Lilac became red as a tomato, which is weird, because puppets don’t have blood. Or at least it’s not red.

Some time passed, and Caine walked past the door to Able’s room.

“Come on. You can do better! Use your whole hand, not just your fingers.” Able’s voice was heard from behind the door.

“Isn't it too big?” Lilac’s concerned voice got in Caine’s ears.

“Why their voices are so tired sounding?” Caine asked himself.

“It's average.” Then Able’s voice became a little bit exited. “Oh. Wanna try to do the same but with your legs?”

“I can?” Lilac sounded ecstatic.

“Of course you can. Let me show you how it's done!”

At the same moment as Able finished this sentence, Caine sharply opened the door.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER, YOU DIRTY PERVERT! SHE'S IN MOURNING AND YOU'RE SEDUCING HER? HOW LOW!”

Caine caught them red handed. Literally. The fighting bag they were talking about was red.

For a good minute in the room was silence. But then Lilac squeaked.

“YOU TOO? OH! HOW COULD YOU TWO THINK SO LOW ABOUT ME!”

“Well. I was thinking…” Able started.

“YOU ARE THINKING TO MUCH ABOUT YOURSELF!” Lilac shouted at him and then she ran away.

Lilac decided to go to her sister’s office. She needed a heathy distraction.

“Pomni! I am SO mad and I need to talk with someone right now”

Lilac looked at her sister. Pomni was smoking, as always.

“Sis, you are too tense, why don’t you try to distract yourself?” Pomni was half asleep and half high.

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Lilac sit on the chair in front of Pomni and her desk. “Can you believe it? Those two Stupid brothers both thought that I want to do inappropriate things with Able. How low! I heard that all the men are pigs, but I’ve never imagined that male puppets are perverts as well!”

“Lil” Pomni sighed. “As I know, Able never had a proper girlfriend back in human days, and Caine… well, I’m working at that part. But you have to understand him. You’ve been running after his heart for a long amount of time. What else he should think.”

“But still. We are puppets. We can’t do…” Lilac blushed. “Such things anymore.”

“Wait.” Pomni’s eyes suddenly became clear. “You don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” Lilac became concerned.

“Oh… OHOHOHO!” Pomni started to smile widely. “I have ALWAYS wanted to do it.”

“Sister. You are making me uncomfortable!”  she sagged in the chair.

Pomni sat relaxed in the chair, threw one leg over the other and put her hands on her chest.

“When two persons a deeply in love, then can do something magical together.” Pomni started with a grin.

“Pomni, I know where kids come from. Oh my gosh, Just because I went the church's school doesn’t mean I don’t know about human biology!” Lilac got a little angry.

“Ah ah ah.” Pomni shook her head negatively. “I’m not talking about HUMAN anatomy. I’m talking about PUPPET anatomy.”

“Puppet anatomy? Well, I can show you my blueprints, I took them with me when I moved here.”

Pomni chuckled.

“What I am trying to tell you can’t be found on blueprints. Place your hand on your chest, dear sister.”

Lilac was concerned, but obeyed the command. Suddenly she felt something.

“Why do I have a heartbeat?”

“Congratulations, Lilac, you have a heart! Wanna know what else you have?” Pomni chuckled snidely.

“That doesn’t make any sense! Ok, I can imagine puppets having human organs. But how did they grew inside my mechanical body?” Lilac got a little scared.

“Magic of being enlighten!” Pomni threw her hands in the air.

“Wait…” Lilac think for a moment. “What was you trying to tell me at the beginning?”

“Try to guess.” Pomni never had this fun for a long time.

Lilac zone out for a few minutes. Then realization hit her.

“NO!” She screamed.

“YES!” Pomni started to laugh so hard that her mask almost fell off.

“Does that mean that he…” Lilac blushed, again.

“I all mechanical flesh he IS!” Pomni was spinning on her chair.

“I need some alone time to think!” Lilac stood up and went to the door.

“Don't overdo it, twin sister!” Pomni threw her leg and arm up.

“I AM GOING TO THE LIBRARY!” Lilac objected.

“Weird choice for the first time but I support you with my whole heart and body!” Pomni made a heart with her fingers.

“PERVERT!” Lilac slammed the door.

To be continued

[mac-cheez]

My Guide to Surviving the Waynes

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally finished the ending!! Don't expect an update soon I have no idea when the fancy will strike again and the TMA brain rot is real rn.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

---------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I was wrong. SO WRONG. You’d think rich people, especially adopted rich people, would be at least a little sane, but no, they’re not and I have no idea how to deal. It’s only been a couple days since my last entry and so much has happened. So here’s what I’ve learned:

Let’s start with the first incident that happened roughly 10 min after my last entry. I had just finished when Tim offered to meet me in the coffee shop outside of the library (he was picking me up from campus)(Alfred was busy). When I walked in I saw him about to order and walked to the side to wait. He looked at the menu for roughly 0.2 sec before looking the barista dead in the eye saying “I’ll have a Vanilla Cold Brew with seven shots of espresso.”

The barista laughed and joked “Damn you want some cocaine with that?” Then he just said, “Sure that too.” and fucking walked away? He didn’t even give his name he just paid and went straight to the pickup area. The most concerning part of that story is that they fucking did it! And he drank the whole goddamn thing without batting an eye! I was highly concerned for his well-being the entire drive home. (I really need to talk to Mr. Wayne about a rental)

What’s even weirder is when we walked into the manor Dick was just hanging from the chandelier. It was sans rope and more acrobatic, but still concerning considering how tall the ceiling was. I’m still not entirely sure how he got up there, but I just walked away hoping to find my sanity once again.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly with the normal amount of yelling and death threats (still can’t believe this is reality). The next day something actually nice happened while I was off from college and heading to the kitchen for lunch. It was a Friday so most of the house was either at work or school, and it was pretty quiet (thank god). When I walked in one of the others was in there cooking already (Jason I think?). I decided on a sandwich since he was currently using the stove and it was going smoothly till I got to the pickle jar. For whatever reason that thing was tight as hell and was going nowhere. He looked at me and after my fifth try (and many curse words) he held out his hand. I handed the jar to him, and he opened it without trouble.

“I loosened it,” I said trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Uh-huh,” he said distractedly. We sat in awkward silence till I noticed one of the books from the library on the counter. It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Sign Of The Four. I asked if he was reading it and he said yes. I asked him if he’s gotten to the twist yet and he looked at me puzzled.

“You’ve read The Sign Of The Four?”

“Yeah, not my favorite Sherlock Holmes Novel, but still good nonetheless,” I said not paying attention, “Are you reading unabridged or abridged?”

“Unabridged,” he said, “you into the classics?”

“Totally, I love a good Victorian mystery or gothic horror novel,” I replied.

“You?” I asked.

“More of a Jane Austen fan myself, but I can respect those choices,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ve never read her works, but if I have a chance I wouldn’t mind trying,” I said. He looked up at me somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.

“Would you like some recommendations?” He said cautiously. I said sure, and he immediately went into a long speech about Jane Austen and her novels. By the time he was done my sandwich and his ramen were long gone. By the end, I had a list of books to read and a new reading buddy to rant about books to. We’ve hung out intermittently since then, and honestly, it was the sanest thing I did all week. However the sanity didn’t last long.

Many other incidents (too many to write) all culminated in this afternoon, when I finally caved and decided if this was my life, it might as well be documented for (at the very least) the enjoyment of others. It was fairly quiet (first clue) and my morning class had been canceled so I was just sitting in the living room doing some work. Everyone else was out and I was about to leave for my 2:30 class when suddenly someone smashed through the window and a smoke bomb was thrown. I honestly thought it was Tim or Jason being weird again, but then the smoke cleared and there was just a bunch of dudes in Green suits with question marks. They looked around and saw me pretty quickly and immediately pointed whatever weapons they had at me. Eventually, some other ones came in the room and said the house was empty and “Wayne is nowhere to be found.” They started arguing till they finally concluded that if none of the Wayne’s were here, I must be the next best thing. Honestly, I can’t even blame them, and at this point I just let it happen.

They put a bag over my head and put me over the strongest one’s shoulder. I was in a car for about an hour before I was potato sack’d again. Once I was placed down, the bag was taken off my head, and I saw that I was in an abandoned-looking warehouse. I saw some more of the brightly clothed men off to the side arguing, one looking even more ridiculous than the others. The extra ridiculous one finally gave up talking to the others(henchmen maybe?) and walked (more like strutted) over to address me.

“Hello guest of Wayne, may I ask your name?” He asked rhyming for some weird ass reason.

“Vic?”

“Ah yes but what is it’s whole, for a half shall not know?” He said lilting his voice… ‘whimsically’?

“What?”

“Your designation that all might know.”

I just continued looking at him with apparent confusion not knowing what the hell is going on. After a minute he hung his head and spoke normally.

“What is your full name?” He sighed.

“Oh! Victoria Blanc,” I said.

“Ah! And what is your relation to the name of Wayne?” He said trying again with the talking in circles bull.

“Look dude usually I could appreciate….. Whatever it is that's happening, but I’ve had one hell of a week so…….”

“Oh come now it couldn’t have been that bad.” He said dismissively.

“Alright bet! You might wanna sit down this is gonna take a minute.”

Once he sat I started explaining everything that had happened since I’d moved to Gotham. As I was explaining more and more of the “henchmen” started joining the crowd.

“He chased him through the manor with a sword?” Riddler asked (at least that's what one of the others called him).

“Yeah, and apparently this is a normal phenomenon,” I said exasperated.

“And here I thought I was crazy.”

“Oh, no this is probably the most sane thing that's happened to me all week,” I said hand waving (They untied me after a while)(I asked nicely).

I was about to continue when suddenly three figures jumped down and got into fighting positions.

“Let her go Riddler!” Said the one in Black and blue(and maybe a bird?)

“Oh, she was free to leave a while ago.” He said casually to the masked people.

“What?” said the one in red.

“Yeah, we even offered to get her away from that mad house,” said Bob.

“Mad House?”

“Yes, it's almost criminal how they act in that house, you bats should really get on that,” ‘Riddler’ said chidingly. 

I didn't really understand why he called them bats since they all looked bird-themed but I didn't bring it up because honestly, weirder things have happened at this point. They agreed to look into it, albeit very confused(and almost offended), and said they still needed to take me back.

“Fine,” ‘Riddler’ sighed heavily, “ but Vic, sweetie, if you need somewhere safe to stay in Gotham I have plenty of friends who will keep you safe while you finish your degree.”

“Yeah, kinda tempting, but I don't think my parents would like that very much, and they are paying for it so…….”

“Very well, offer stands in perpetuity, to Arkham yes?”

“You're not gonna ask a riddle or…..” said the one in red and black.

“Usually I would but honestly I’m far too concerned right now to care.”

After that, they handcuffed him and the other goons (kinda unfair but i guess they did kidnap me) and walked me out to one of the police cars so I could go back to the manor. They offered to drive me but I've seen enough motorcycle crash scene pictures to put the fear of God (thy name is friction) in me. When I got back Mr. Wayne was in the foyer with Alfred and immediately came over to make sure I was ok.

“Yeah, I'm fine Mr. Wayne, honestly I’m more worried about the class I missed than the kidnapping,” I explained.

He seemed concerned by that but had a phone call right after that he needed to take. Alfred walked me to my room (I think to make sure I wasn't concussed) and I just kinda went back to writing and here we are. Can't wait to see what fresh hell awaits me in the coming week……….. Maybe I should've taken Riddler up on that offer.

[blondtaylorfritz]

Ask: 8, 9, f, i

thank you for sending this in!!! 🥰 i'm not sure which letters you wanted paired with which numbers, so i'm just going to break the rules and answer them all individually 🫣

8. which of your fics did you spend the most amount of time writing?

i'm going to ignore wips, even published ones, because that answer is embarrassing lol so this only applies to finished fics. but girl, compromised, my natasha romanoff mcu origin story fic i wrote back in like, 2014ish!!! 32 chapters and took me months to write, even though i was whipping out chapters super fast

9. which of your fics did you spend the least amount of time writing?

probably my very first challengers fic. i had the idea for it stuck in my head, and i sat down and wrote it out in several hours. which has kind of funny for me since that's my least favorite out of my challengers fics, yet it was my first + i think it's still my most popular challengers fic RIP

f. which character (POV or not) was your favorite to write?

i know this is going to be a huge shock coming from ME of all people, but i've actually kind of had fun writing patrick????? it might just be that i don't do it very often, but the very few times i've written patrick, i've kind of enjoyed it...?

i. did anything substantial get cut from it?

in my arttashi baby fic, i wrote multiple variations of long scenes about tashi interacting with art's sister whom i made up since i'm a firm believer that he's the baby of the family and has two older sisters. i had a scene where his sister comes to paint a mural on the wall of the nursery because she's an artist. in another draft, art and tashi stop by his parents' house while they're in town for a tournament, and it's a surprise mini baby shower, which upsets tashi. then in ANOTHER draft i had art's family going to one of his tournaments, and tashi passes out because of the heat, and she's dehydrated from her HG, so all very dramatic stuff lol

thank you again for indulging my yapping and sending these in!!! i hope it's ok i just answered each individually because i didn't know which letters and numbers to pair but!!! the world is still turning!! thank you again 💜

play a mix & match fic writer ask game with me?

[gezellig-writes]

Part 2/??? 😂 Jacob for the ask game!

(Will answer mine when I claw some brainpower back!! 💖)

do I like them

How could I not? One of Bella's best moments was when she called him her personal son. He's one of my favorite parts of this series and his character assassination at the hands of Meyer will always be a tragedy

5 good qualities

His heart- he has so much capacity for love and gives so much of himself to others

He's caring and thoughtful with his time and especially the gifts he gives to his friends and family

He's loyal, maybe to a fault

He's perceptive- its shown more in the books than the movies, but he's easily able to tell when Bella doesn't want to talk about something (or someone) and doesn't push her further

He's literally described by Bella as her personal sun

3 bad qualities

The whole Bella kiss scene before the newborn battle in Eclipse. Just not a fan all around

He's also the type of person who doesn't know when to stop talking. Like its nice, but you don't always need his 24/7 running commentary and it can be a bit much when he and Quil get going

He's not good at talking about or dealing with his own feelings and sometimes that comes back to bite him

favorite episode/etc

The entire sequence when they restore the bikes. Jake dives headlong into it and is so giving with his time and energy and definitely knows how good it all is for Bella

otp

 I can't make a single choice, so you're getting several, that share equal value in my heart

Blackwater- for obvious reasons

Selfpartnered!Jake- This is mostly HC territory, but I really like the idea of him being single and working through his trauma, and learning to love and accept himself

Jake x Bella- This was my jam when I came back into twilight (aka The Movement of the Earth), and I was Team Jacob back when I first read the series. There’s also something so easy about their relationship like they’re two halves of a whole

brotp

I will always have a soft spot for Jake/Quil/Embry and their friendship. There's a ton of history between them, and a lot to work with, and their overall dynamic is quite fun

ot3

I don't think I have one?

notp

Jacob/Edward. I don't get it and I don't think I ever will

best quote

There is a lot to pick from, but I like this one from New Moon:

He sighed a heavy sigh. Then he reached over his toolbox to a paper grocery sack. He pulled out two cans of soda, cracking one open, and handing it to me. He opened the second and held it ceremoniously.

"Here's to responsibility," he toasted. "Twice a week."

"And recklessness every day in between," I emphasized.

He grinned and touched his can to mine

Not much, but I feel like it encapsulates some of his best parts

headcanon

He learned about cars from his Aunt Jane, Nana Doris, and Grandfather Hank (Sarah was the rebel artist in a family of mechanics), who own a garage in La Push. After Sarah's death, it became a bit of an obsession, but also a way to work through grief he had a difficult time processing.

The garage behind the house is his personal sanctuary, but Jacob has just as many fond memories of hours spent with his aunt and grandparents, old country music playing in the background as they taught him how to take apart cars and bikes and put them back together.

give me a character ask

[therhythmafterthesummer]

A Helping Hand (M) ~Seungmin

Pairing: LabHybrid!Seungmin x GN!Reader Themes: Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers | Roommates to Lovers Word Count: ~4k | AO3 Synopsis: After one too many shots of vodka, your best friend confided in you a little problem he’d been dealing with for a couple of months now. Tipsy-you figured that you were more than suitable to give him a helping hand. Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption · overall hybrid shenanigans · Seungmin has a dirty mouth · pet names · Smut (warnings under the cut). let me know if i missed any💜

Author’s Note: can’t believe my first ever published Seungmin fic is a hybrid au lmao. got a weird boost of inspiration for this after seeing @starlostseungmin talking about it, so here it is ! Special thanks to @notastraykid for giving her very valuable input to improve the first draft, as well as @comet-falls for letting me know it didn’t suck skjdfhsdkjf

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: this is, as usual, some monsterfuckery · handjobs · praising · breeding kink (kind of) · hybrid anatomy (knot) · copious amounts of fluids. again, let me know if i missed any

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“You–You don’t have to do this, serious��Oh, God…”

You swallowed, focusing on your best friend’s face. Focusing a bit too much on the vein that popped on his neck when he threw his head back, on how pretty his eyelashes looked when his eyes fluttered shut, on those pouty lips of his you totally didn’t wish you could have on yours… All while trying to ignore what you had between your hands, all while trying to ignore the obscene, squelching sounds their continuous movement produced…

“I said I’d help you, didn’t I, Seungmin?”

Seungmin inhaled deeply. His ears twitched, his tail seemed to have a life of its own, it had started thumping against the headboard of the bed the moment he’d sat down and you’d taken a hold of him.

After opening his eyes again, Seungmin looked at your face, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed. “You did”.

“And I always keep my word, don’t I?” You twisted your wrists, never stopping the motions of your hands.

Seungmin sighed, and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to evaporate with the motion. “You do…”

A spark of doubt flared in your mind, large enough it was impossible to ignore. Your hands stopped, and the tiniest whine left Seungmin’s mouth. “Unless you… Are you feeling uncomfortable? I can– I can stop”.

Seungmin’s hands flew to your wrists, preventing you from pulling away completely. “No. No, no, please, don’t… I… Fuck, I really want this. I really, really need this”.

You would’ve never expected the afternoon to take you here… To your best friend’s bedroom, to him sitting on his bed, with his back against the headboard, and with his legs spread. You would’ve never expected to have his cock in your hands, barely even out of his lounge shorts. In your mind, this had never been a real, genuine possibility. Yet here you were.

How long had it been since you realised you had a crush on your best friend? Too long, probably. It might’ve been a bit embarrassing, but you truly couldn’t even remember a time when you weren’t pining over him, a time when you weren’t thinking how it would be like to be with him physically, intimately…

Although, to be fair, this situation was far more sterile than all those fantasies you’d allowed your mind to wander into only in the wee hours of the night. It wasn’t as if Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you, or you to him. It was more like… like you were giving your friend a hand–literally and figuratively.

Seungmin was a hybrid. A black labrador hybrid, to be exact. He’d been your best friend since you were a kid, when the school you attended finally started allowing hybrids as students. You could still remember the first day you saw him, standing in a corner by the lockers. You’d approached him, mostly because your mother had taught you that hybrids must be treated well, just like you’d treat anyone else.

He was a shy boy, totally out of character for a lab hybrid, but the more you got to know him, the more he warmed up to you, the more you started to see that bright personality of his. As soon as he’d deemed you trustworthy, it was almost like that shyness had never been there in the first place.

He started to come over to your place to hang out or do homework, to open up about his life, and even to show more of his mischievous side. He’d call you everything from dumb dumb, to human kiddo, to little human, just because he could. But it was fine.

Even if at the beginning it annoyed you that he simply wouldn’t call you by your name, it eventually became such a Seungmin thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him when his eyes sparkled so brightly whenever he used his little nicknames for you.

Seungmin was chaotic, he was funny, and he was the most loyal friend you’d ever had. He’d been with you through thick and thin. Every broken friendship and relationship, he was always there to console you, to hold your hand and tell you it was going to be alright. He was always there for you, without fail. He’d always joke around and say it was one of his lab traits, but you knew better.

Whether he was a hybrid or not, you knew Seungmin would still be the same Seungmin.

Your Seungmin.

A couple of years ago, you finally got to move out of your parents’ house. It was only natural that you ended up renting a place with your best friend, considering he, too, wanted to move out, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of living with strangers.

Decades had passed since hybrids were integrated into human society. They finally had rights, they were treated as people and not some pet you bought from a store–no disrespect to pets, they had their rights, too. But pets weren’t people. Hybrids, on the other hand, were.

Hybrids had free will, they could reason like humans could, and they certainly deserved to be treated as equals. These were the values that you’d been taught as you grew up, and it was something you believed in still to this day.

Regardless, hybrids still had their animal urges and needs, which Seungmin seemed to have been struggling with for a couple of months now.

The confession happened last night, while you both threw a tennis ball back and forth at each other, after one too many shots of vodka–to be more precise, it’d been three. Three shots of vodka only. 

Alcohol wasn’t deadly toxic to Seungmin like it was to other hybrids, but his body certainly couldn’t digest it very well, which usually manifested not only in the flush that spread all over his face, but also by shutting down every single one of his filters. ‘I haven’t been able to come in two fucking months. Two months! I feel like I’m dying, dude. I just need to blow’.

You’d asked him how that was even possible, how he had not managed to bring himself to orgasm in two months, considering you knew he was a person with a moderate sex drive–based on the amount of times you had to stay in your shared flat while he had company over… His answer was a very graceful ‘The fuck if i know… Nothing works, my dearest little human. Porn doesn’t work. Literature doesn’t work. And my imagination clearly doesn’t work, either’.

He looked genuinely distressed about it, especially when he sighed, and his tone lowered. ‘I’ve been checking forums online… Going anonymous to ask strangers, specifically other hybrids, but most of them said that I needed to find the root cause, that something in my environment could be affecting my physical performance, but it’s… It’s really frustrating, because I genuinely have no idea what’s going on’.

‘Have you tried, I don’t know, getting laid?’ was what your tipsy self asked. You wouldn’t have asked that question fully sober for sure. You really didn’t want to know if Seungmin was out there getting laid these days. It had been a little over a year since you had seen him date anyone, and the thought of him dating someone now, admittedly, made you jealous. Which was potentially very stupid on your part considering you were just friends. The best of friends. Only friends.

‘Nah. Can you imagine if I’m with someone and I can’t fucking come? Distress… Besides, I don’t want to just… You know, do it with a random person. People are kinda… ew’. You could understand completely why he wouldn’t want to go out and hook up with a stranger. After all, some people still saw hybrids as sex slaves, or they were heavily fetishised, so it wasn’t exactly safe to partake in one night stands for him. 

Besides, your best friend was not one for hookups and one night stands in the first place. He had trust issues, especially with humans, so you could definitely understand his predicament. 

‘What if it’s someone you know?’ You threw the ball back at him just as you’d boldly asked the question, because spirits always made you voice things sober you would never have the guts to say.

Seungmin caught the ball and scoffed, completely sure that no one he knew would want to be that intimate with him, and not think ill of him if he didn’t manage to perform. 

But you had to open your big mouth again, very confidently telling him ‘And what about me? I can do it’.

The ball suddenly fell from Seungmin’s hand, landing on the floor and rolling under the coffee table. His eyes followed the movement like a hawk–or, maybe it’d be more accurate to say like a dog. He stretched his body a bit out of the sofa, not even bothering to stand up fully, trying to get the ball while he chuckled, maybe a bit nervously.

Seungmin genuinely thought you were joking for a second. That was exactly what he’d told you, but then he saw how serious you were about it, and, after a few minutes of silence, he simply said that you should have this conversation sober.

Which you did.

Which took you right here, right into his room, with his painfully hard cock in your hands.

Seungmin knew you wouldn’t judge him if he couldn’t come. He trusted you enough to be vulnerable with you in more ways than one, to tell you what he needed or wanted, so you would gladly help him–the fact that you had a major crush on him made you feel a bit self-conscious, you’d admit… Like you were taking advantage of the situation to touch him this intimately. But you had already offered it, and he had already accepted it, so you just didn’t feel like backing down on your word.

“Tighten your grip a bit more”, Seungmin mumbled, and once again he threw his head back when you did as asked and continued working his cock. “Fuck, yeah. That’s it…”

You were starting to heat up yourself. Especially whenever he spoke like that, with the tone of his voice as low as it was. Seungmin was one to swear a lot, very openly, but in this context, it certainly felt… filthier. And it affected you. Maybe embarrassingly so…

You couldn’t help but swear under your breath when your eyes drifted from his face to his length. How could you not look? When he was there, letting you touch him…

Clear fluid leaked from his tip, dripping all over your fingers and aiding your movement, intensifying those sinful wet sounds that resonated in your ears with each stroke. You knew his specific breed tended to produce more fluids than a human would, he’d told you this before in passing, but you had honestly not expected it to be this much.

Seungmin didn’t seem fazed at his slick soiling his clothes. On the contrary, it seemed like he didn’t even care at all.

“Like what you see?”

Your head snapped upwards to meet his eyes, and you immediately felt heat rush to your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard not to look, but…” You suddenly felt small under his gaze, even if your hands didn’t stop. His eyes were so dark, staring right into yours so intensely the hairs at your nape stood on end.

Seungmin always tried not to look people in the eyes, ‘It activates this primal instinct in me, it’s a bit annoying sometimes, to be honest. I only make eye contact when… when I… Well, you know…’ He’d said once, very vaguely, but even back then, you understood. 

He didn’t need to tell you in which situation he enjoyed eye contact. Whenever you looked him in the eyes, you always felt trapped under his gaze, like you wanted to submit. And, somehow, it also woke the butterflies in your belly. Right now, that feeling seemed to have heightened tenfold.

“You’re trying not to look, but…?” Seungmin licked his lips, reaching forward to take a hold of your forearm. Not to stop you, but simply to drag his thumb over your skin in soothing motions.

“But…” You swallowed. You figured now was as good a time as any to let the thoughts out of your head, otherwise they would haunt you forever. “You’re so big”.

Seungmin giggled, a sound that he hardly ever let anyone outside of his close friend group hear, the flush on his face deepened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adorable, even in this context… “You think I’m big?”

“Haven’t touched someone this big ever”, your pace was still slow, but you made sure to stroke as much of him as you could, as tight as he had asked you to. It wasn’t like he was crazy big, he wasn’t particularly long, but he was just… girthy. Girthier than you had ever seen in your pathetic excuse for a love life. “Not only that, but… It’s just… pretty”.

At that, Seungmin looked genuinely incredulous. “Pretty?”

“Mm… pretty”.

He was going to speak, but before he could, your movements sped up, and the whine that left his mouth as soon as you did had your insides instantly firing up. It was a completely involuntary reaction, how could your body not react when the sounds coming out of his mouth were this sinful? When the almost canine whines stirred the butterflies flying freely in your belly?

“Oh, fuck… That’s it, baby, just like that, shit…”

You didn’t even acknowledge the pet name that just escaped his lips. You were convinced it was a heat of the moment thing, so you swallowed that saliva that had suddenly pooled in your mouth, and continued to focus on your motions. 

With both of your hands, you went from the base to the head a few times, until you settled one of your hands at the base and the other at the tip. You had heard that the base of a canine hybrid’s cock was sensitive, not as much as the head, but much more than a human’s would be, and Seungmin’s wagging tail and content sighs proved that to be true.

You made sure to pull the foreskin with you when you pumped his head, and your eyes naturally drifted to the sight again. Pretty, indeed…

“You’re so fucking good at this, fuck…” Seungmin’s head was tilted back against the headboard, but he was still looking at you through his lashes. His chest rose and fell with his laboured breathing, he was essentially panting, his tongue poked out from between his lips, and the movement of his thumb on your forearm had long since stopped. He was now just gripping your arm, lightly digging his fingers on your skin.

“You think so?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you definitely wanted to hear more of his praise. It fed a pool of arousal in the pit of your stomach that you just knew you’d have to deal with as soon as you were on your own and away from his prying eyes…

“Fuck, yeah… You’re so good to me, so…” His words trailed off, stopped when he swallowed thickly. 

You wanted him to continue what he was going to say, you almost asked him to, but before you could, he spoke again–with an edge of desperation in his voice that almost made you faint.

“Squeeze a bit harder at the base”, so you did, twisting your wrist as you went up and down, and the loud moan that fell from his mouth made you dizzy with need. “That’s it, keep doing that, fuck…”

You worked his cock for a while, all as words of appreciation continued to fly past his lips, all as his slick kept dripping all over your fingers, as he directed more pet names your way. Until something started to feel different…

“Oh, oh, fuck… Fuck, shit, don’t stop, baby, please, don’t…”

You wouldn’t have dared stop, not when your fingers suddenly weren’t able to touch where you held him. You kept the motions on the head of his cock, but the base seemed to be swelling under your grasp, loosening it a bit.

“No, no, don’t stop there. Squeeze it. Keep touching it, pup”, Seungmin pleaded, tightening his grip on your arm while small whines escaped his throat, almost drowned by the sound of his tail thumping against the headboard.

“Oh, my God…” You knew hybrids were anatomically different to humans, but you had never really considered just how much they could be, so it really took you by surprise.

You were experiencing one of Seungmin’s hybrid attributes first hand. There, at the base of his cock, a knot was quickly swelling, and you would’ve never expected how much the sight and feel of it could affect you. Your mind raced, suddenly curious as to how it would feel like if he were pushing his cock into your warmth, how he would stretch you out to your absolute limits…

Seungmin might’ve been the hybrid here, but you were certainly salivating at the feel of his swollen knot in your hands.

Tightening your grip around his knot, you started massaging it, just as you pumped his head faster, coaxing a string of groans and moans and swears to come out of Seungmin’s mouth.

“Your hands… They’re so soft, so… perfect. That’s perfect, pup, you’re doing so fucking well”.

Seungmin was talking to you like you weren’t the one working him up. It would’ve amused you, had it not been feeding the fire that was burning bright deep within yourself.

You could feel your underwear sticking to your skin, drenched in your own fluids because of Seungmin, and the sounds he was making, and his heavy cock under your hands, and that fucking knot of his…

“Seungmin… Shit, you… This…” Being honest, you were speechless. 

“What? Huh?” Seungmin finally let go of your arm, instead he cupped your cheek, making you look at him, just as he started to thrust up into your fists. “I know what you want to tell me. Or, at least, I think I do, fuck… I can hear how fast your heart is beating, pup. I can smell it all, you know? I wanna know what you’re thinking. Tell me”.

You licked your lips, staring into his eyes. You were sure your face couldn’t be any warmer, yet the heat seemed to spread further the longer you looked at him, the faster you moved your hands and he thrusted into your grip.

“I’m… Fuck, I can’t help but think how it would feel like inside me, stretching me open…”

“Oh, shit–” Seungmin threw his head back. His tail thrashed against the headboard, and his ears were twitching nonstop. “I can–Fuck, baby, I can give it to you. Whatever you want, just say it and I’ll give it to you”.

With your lower lip trapped between your teeth, you took in a deep breath, almost shivering when Seungmin pulled his shirt up to reveal his torso just as he mumbled the most desperate “Close, so fucking close, puppy. Don’t you dare fucking stop. Tell me–tell me more…”

“I want… want your knot… I want you, Seungmin. So much, so, so much. Need you”, you emphasised each statement with a tighter squeeze to the swollen base of his length.

“Oh, fuck!”

With a few more thrusts of his hips, and a few more twists of your wrists, Seungmin gave you a quick warning, only for your name to fly past his lips, and explode seconds after. Thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip of his cock, painting his torso in the creamy substance and dripping all over your hands. It was so much cum, more than you had ever seen anyone ever produce.

The sounds coming out of his mouth were absolutely pornographic, they entered your ears and shot straight to your aching, needy insides. Needy for Seungmin, for his knot, and his everything.

You kept working his cock, pumping the tip to make sure every drop of his cum came out, squeezing and stroking his knot through it all. Until Seungmin’s body slumped against the headboard.

The movement of your hands stopped, but you didn’t remove them. The sight was straight out of a wet dream, his torso, his shirt, his shorts, your hands, everything was covered in cum, and you suddenly had the urge to taste it. But you begrudgingly resisted that urge, this was probably not the moment for that.

When you finally looked away from the mess, your eyes found Seungmin’s. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breaths, his lips were slightly parted as he gasped for air, and he was looking so deeply into your eyes you simply couldn’t look away.

You weren’t sure who moved first, maybe it was you, or maybe it was him… Or maybe, it had been both.

Before you knew it, Seungmin’s soft, moist lips were on yours, kissing you like a starved man. And you retaliated, of course. You kissed him with the same enthusiasm he had, licking his bottom lip to get your tongue inside his mouth, and very quickly, you started to feel lightheaded.

Kissing Seungmin was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Hearing him and seeing him come was a transcendental experience, and you were sure that your brain chemistry had just been altered forever. How could you ever go back to anyone else after this?

The kiss was messy, sloppy, tongues intertwining and teeth sinking on soft skin, producing wet noises all around. You would’ve honestly loved to stay there forever, kissing him, with his length in your hands and his cum all over your fingers. Unfortunately, though, you needed to breathe, so you finally disconnected your lips from his, and took a deep breath.

Seungmin looked into your eyes, and you looked right back. They were still dark, still alluring, but there was something else, something softer… Maybe more vulnerable. The stare-off lasted for a few moments, a few moments spent in silence, until you both broke into a fit of laughter.

Seungmin was practically glowing, he looked possibly the most handsome you’d ever seen him. Even when he was covering the lower part of his face with his hand while he laughed, trying to hide that pretty smile of his after years and years of insecurities produced by the now long since removed braces on his teeth, you still found him incredibly handsome and adorable.

“I take it you enjoyed it? You must have. Look at this mess you made”, there was a teasing smile on your lips, but the truth was, you genuinely wanted to know. 

“As much as you enjoyed, it seems”, Seungmin scoffed, and he gestured between your bodies, where you were still holding his cock. He was still just as hard as he was before he came. 

“You’re still hard?” You couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice, nor the way your eyes widened at the sight, and it made Seungmin smirk immediately. 

“Baby, I’m a dog. My cock thinks it should be inside someone right now, keeping all my cum contained with my knot. Of course I’m still hard, it wants to breed”.

“To… to breed?” Your voice was airy, shaky, suddenly unable to contain the feeling of pure arousal you felt coursing through your veins.

“Mm… to breed”, Seungmin repeated, and he bit his lip when you started to gently squeeze and caress his knot.

He detached himself from the headboard just enough so he could pull his shirt off. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. His gaze softened further, and he brought his hands to your cheeks so he could softly caress the skin with his thumbs. “Thank you. Fuck, I'm so grateful right now. That felt so good”.

“Oh, please… It was my pleasure”, you chuckled, finally letting go of the head of his cock so both of your hands could focus on giving attention to his knot, hopefully helping relieve any possible discomfort he might be feeling since it was out in the open, unable to fulfil its purpose. 

The motions clearly made Seungmin’s blush deepen. He looked at you for a few bated breaths, and before you could even understand what was happening, you were on your back, gasping in surprise. 

Taking his discarded shirt, Seungmin knelt on the bed, right between your legs, and he cleaned your hands, as well as his torso of as much of his cum as he could. 

“Your pleasure, pretty human, hasn’t even started yet. Let me make you feel as good as you just made me feel”.

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General Masterlist

[baugojo]

🎧SATORU!GOJO protective

a/n: fluff content, got bored. and for some reason this has been sitting in my drafts for a month.

summary: your co-worker is harassing you, and when gojo finds out, he’s not very pleased.

word count: 1.15k

“Satoru!” You knew he wasn’t really listening after the first couple of words that’d come out of your mouth, pressed firmly in between your lips; slipping out.

you’d mentioned a co-worker. In which, the co-worker had made you a bit, uncomfortable. You’d come home from work, and found yourself heading over to your boyfriends office at his work.

Gojo had a nice black tux, while his shirt was also tucked into his pants a bit, and the button up had just a few of them ripped from the side.

With is beautiful hair to conclude, he was writing a report about some of the exchanges that were misplaced during the last batch of boxes.

Your boyfriend would be fired, if he wasn’t the boss.. and owner of the estate.

His reasoning for buying the expensive million-dollar penthouse-apartment; in which he made his office, was because he simply grew bored and he liked the color.

anyhow, you had waltzed in, saying hello to a couple workers at his marketplace, and passing through towards the receptionist; who immediately recognized you.

Hands deep in the computer, she’d seen your small fragile frame, pumping tears from sides of your eye lids, and doiling them away.

Almost instantly, you’d recieved a tissue, and concealed a good amount of the tears that wanted to escape; and now here you where, in his office, rubbing your precious head in between the crook of his neck.

You sat on his lap, while your legs spread open; allowing his waist to sit in between your thighs.

“Let me see your face princess.”

But you only discouraged his request, because you were embarrassed. Usually, you’d be the one to be so hard on Gojo, telling him that you don’t need support. You were the one known for wearing the pants in this relationship; considering your boyfriend could be a five year old majority of the time.

But when he was serious, then that meant things just were simply serious. It wasn’t rare for him to be that way, but it definitely was not common.

You’d come in, watching his face whisk away from his large laptop, and change his expressions, from: focused, bored to: happy, confused.

somehow in ten seconds, you’d been coo’d into his touch, while telling him about the co-worker, and what’d happened at work.

Now, if this was simply because of just the co-worker, you wouldn’t be as upset as you were. It actually really because of what he’d said, more so the aftermath.

“he said that I was a no good nothing, and power-hungry slut.” You began, “because I’m dating a powerful man, that could do so much better; he’d gladly get rid of me.”

before you could continue, to the part that reallt upset you, your boyfriend’s jaw clenched, teething at you.

“and then he told my boss that I’d been harassing him all year round, but had been paid to stay quiet. So I got fired!”

that was enough to make Gojo’s hands ball up in anger. Of course though, he’d play mellow with you, so he didn’t upset you.

“I’ll take care of it.” Moving you from your seating on top of him, with a smile, he continued. “Stay in my office princess.”

“satoru, I don’t want you to do anything. I mean it.” swallowing your upsetting news, you stalled.

“I’m not going to do anything.” The smile he gave almost temped you to believe those words; caressing your round cheek, that exfoliated to the touch of his cold hands.

“Satoru.” you hushed, both hands now on you, on arm wrapped nicely around the band of your hips; almost challenging you to keep eye-contact with him.

You felt his eyes roll dramatically; chucking his head back for a second; his neck bare and giving a small hitch of his throat gulping.

“alright, tell you what,” he said, “why don’t we go home princess? I’m bored here anyway.”

The next morning, you’d been awoken by a couple missed calls from your ex-boss, and a few messages that had been disviewed as well.

you rushed the phone, double clicking the missed call button, and calling him back. He didn’t even let the phone ring, picking it up almost immediately.

“if it’s about my things, B/N, please give me the opportunity to go get them—“

“you are not fired.” he spoke, “it was a misunderstanding, really. You should have spoken up when your co-worker been bothering you about your personal relationships, instead of taking the fall.”

you retaliated; you where trying to speak for yourself, but your boss just wouldn’t let you. He’d believed everything that your co-worker had said, without even allowing you to compensate.

“Uhm, that being said, I am deeply sorry for not allowing you to explain your portion of the story.”

By the time the phone call awaited it’s ending, you’d already known what was proposed.

Gojo, never listening, must’ve taken care of it.

Part of you secretly praised and accommodated that; considering you’d never admit to the seek of needing help. But, you still felt a little gush in your stomach, turning to the thought of the co-worker, and what he said.

was it true?

“Y/N, baby.” You heard from the door-frame; instantly collecting your attention, and depriving it from previous thought. “I know what you’re thinking.”

Gojo walked over to you, while your smile seemed to drag from lip to lip, in a sort of apologetic form. But he only took you by your chin; his hand gripping tightly, and lifting you to see eye-to-eye with him.

“you do everything on your own, yu’r my independent pretty girl.” his words oozed out like marshmallow, dripping from its chocolate sandwiched s’mores.

“but, I’m going to help you, because I love you.”

You folded. couldn’t help but admire him taking charge of something you new you couldn’t carry alone. glad he knew you so well, you pecked him softly. “Thank you satoru.”

your hands rushed to his shoulders, wrapping around his neck in pleasure; taking him into you. He chuckled, his hands rubbing at your sides, gradually holding you in place.

“anything for my princess.”

[eatingstringcheese]

betrayal - dabi (but also hawks)

in which you and hawks are the perfect couple (or maybe not)

warnings: cheating...you are cheating on hawks (i have a hatred for hawks btw :p)

[Hero Name] and Hawks were the perfect couple.

Pro-heroes with complementing quirks, a perfect relationship, and all the love in the world, is what appeared to the public eye.

Hands always intertwined, smiling from ear to ear as they patrolled the city together. Smiling to their fans when questioned about the relationship, signing all the miscellaneous objects brought by small, awe-struck children being chased down by their parents.

Reruns of interviews shown on late night talk shows, the pair sitting so close as if conjoined at the hip, hands intertwined and exchanging lovesick gazes every few minutes.

Hawks bashfully dedicating his latest saves when asked by paparazzi, Y/n blushing and hushing the inquisitive photographers when approached about the couple's future plans.

Y/n would shuffle in their seat, a blush creeping their cheeks as they turned to Hawks. Hawks would laugh and kiss his partner's hand, saying all would reveal itself in time. The oh-so-mysterious secrets surrounding their homelife would one day be shown to the world.

L/n and Takami were the perfect couple.

The sound of a door creaking sounded through the darkened warehouse, footsteps lightly echoing off the metallic walls. Dabi flipped a switch in the back room, the small amount of light giving off his location. The most recent figure to enter sped through the warehouse, their shoes barely touching the ground as they moved almost soundlessly to the light source.

The door opened, revealing Dabi lazily lounging in an office chair, he smirked at the newly arrived figure, beckoning them to come closer. The figure approached and sat daintily on his lap, wrapping their arms around his neck and sighing contentedly. Dabi greeted his lover with a passionate kiss. Discarding his cigarette in a nearby trash can.

On the other side of the city, Keigo Takami sat in his small apartment office, shuffling through paperwork that needed to be filed. Fully knowing the love of his life, while they did not reciprocate his feelings, sat in an abandoned warehouse, meeting with their villainous lover.

It drove Keigo damn near insane knowing his fiance, his oh-so-dear Y/n, was a thousand times more passionate with a villain than they had ever been with him. But he let it go, in favor of their public image as a hero, and not to deteriorate his own. He knew where they sat at this very moment, with a short call he could tip the police that he knew where the notorious League of Villains had been camping recently and where they would be staying next. He knew their every move, and could turn them in at any moment.

But he didn't. He couldn't lose the trust of the one person he cared about most. He was there for them in their darkest times, despite them never being there for him. Keigo was there for Y/n when Magne died, he held them close and comforted them because even though they wouldn't- no couldn't do the same, it hurt him seeing his beloved in such despair.

Y/n and Keigo were the perfect couple.

lmk if u wanna be added to the taglist :) like n reblog if u enjoyed <3

so embarrassed this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile and i just forgot to post it 💀

[corpsekiller]

𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 — 𝐞.𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. eijirou kirishima x genderneutral!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff, insecurities and doubt, but that’s all because my sweet boy only deserves the best

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. you decided to help your boyfriend dye his hair after noticing his hair has grown out, but he feels like he’s only wasting your time and needs some reassurance.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i finally sat my ass down and finished this fic, because this wip has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i didn’t have any motivation to keep writing. thank you @diavohoe for beta-reading this and giving me a title. i love you, bitch.

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 2.322 words

MASTERLIST

Kirishima knows you love him unconditionally when you offer to dye his hair one day. His roots have been growing out for a few weeks and the bright crimson has faded around his scalp, exposing his natural dark hair he usually hides under a thick layer of color and although it doesn’t bother him much, you still seem to dislike the stark contrast that has appeared at the center of his head and spread even further over the last month. Not even his styled spikes can hide the black dilemma of his roots now and he has to admit that his hair is in urgent need of a touch-up.

Normally, he would have some boxes of dye in his small bathroom, perhaps some in the drawers under his desk too, but last time he checked, they were all empty and discarded in the trash. Unfortunately, Mr. Aizawa ensured to double the hours of hero training ever since the last villain attack and so he didn’t have much space between combat and studying hard for upcoming exams to take a short trip to the city and get new hair dye.

To be clear, it’s not like he wasn’t aware of the pure love you feel for him before, quite the opposite actually, but Eijirou knows for a fact how awfully time consuming the task of coloring his hair can be, which is why he usually refrains from asking his friends for their assistance to spare their nerves and opts to do it on his own whenever it’s needed.

Sure, it took him a while to get the hang of it. Estimating the right amount of color to evenly spread in his hair with the naked eye and prevent any patches and overly pigmented spots is harder than it seems. Though somehow, he learned how much dye he’s supposed to use and surmounted the struggle of getting the strange sensation of pins and needles in his arms after standing in front of his bathroom mirror for endless hours to perfect his look. Now he could almost call himself an expert when it comes to dying someone’s hair.

“Hey, I’m back from the store! I’m not sure if I grabbed the right color though, can you take a look?” Your nose is reddened from the cold outside as you close the door to his room and slip out of the jacket you stole from him for the quick run outside, lazily draping his clothes over the basket of laundry sitting in one corner. You approach his spot on his bed with two or three boxes of bright red hair dye and bleach in your arms, stopping right in front of him to show the brand printed on the front of your purchase and his heart skips a beat in his chest as his face flushes in embarrassing adoration for you.

“Oh, thanks! Yeah, that’s the right one... You really don’t have to help me though, I can do it myself,” he chuckles quietly and reaches out to snatch the hair dye out of your grasp, but you admonishingly click your tongue and merely shake your head at his rash actions, quickly dodging his arms to escape to the other side of the room. He only means well, only wants to be certain he isn’t bothering you and wasting your time with something as simple as dying his hair. “I’m serious, Y/N. It’s fine if you don’t want to...Wait, what are you doing there?”

“I’m looking for that weird applicator brush you’re supposed to use,” you explain scarcely and open the vanity cabinet below his sink, clumsily balancing the boxes in one arm as you drop to your knees and slide over the cool bathroom tiles. Despite your efforts, they topple over and hit the ground a second later, earning a sigh from you. Leaning forward, you push moisturizer, hair gel, and some makeup aside to search the tool you’re certain you saw somewhere in there just yesterday. Eijirou, still sitting on his bed with his phone in one hand, can hear you rummaging through the cabinet, tries his best to not gawk at your ass as you twist your upper body and arch your back to dive deeper into the vanity.

Of course, you had to wear just a pair of shorts and one of his old shirts.

“I know you never use that thing,” you groan lowly. At this point, your back begins to hurt uncomfortably and your arms cramp, trembling under the weight of your body still leaning into the vanity cabinet, although you don’t appear to be successful with your mission. “But I don’t want to make a mess out of your room and make it look like you committed a bloody murder in here.”

He huffs out a laugh at your muffled comment. You can feel the warmth of his wide smile on your exposed neck and the image of his bright face without casting a glance over your shoulders. Then, after a moment of thinking, you suppose, your boyfriend calls out. “Have you looked behind the mirror? I might have thrown it in there if it isn’t already in the trash.”

“No, hold on,” you pant, ducking your head and getting to your feet to open the mirror cabinet as he advised. Your eyes scan the shelf hidden behind the polished glass, read the label of his musky cologne and the tube of toothpaste next to some floss. Strangely, one compartment is only filled with products for your personal needs — you recognize your deodorant and your favorite moisturizer, as well as the face serum you always apply before sleep, paired with a second toothbrush and products for your hair you don’t recall ever asking to buy for you.

“Got it?”

“Nope, I can’t... Oh, wait! I found it!” You chime happily when your gaze falls on the brush you’ve been looking for. Raising it triumphantly over your head to show your boyfriend, you nod your head and beckon him to move his ass out of bed and come closer. “Alright, get a chair and get over here. If we wait any longer, the day is going to be over and your roots still won’t be covered.”

As you wait for your boyfriend to join you in the bathroom, you prepare everything you need. Vaseline and makeup wipes to clean his forehead once you’re done with the process of coloring his hair are placed on the sink beside a bar of soap, the pair of gloves snugly fit around your hands to protect your skin and the bleach you bought is already poured into the plastic container Eijirou always uses to mix his color kits. To be sure nothing gets messed up, you placed some stained towels on the floor and purposely changed into one of his old shirts before you headed to the store in case your aim misses his head and you accidentally spill some of the product on yourself.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to waste your time,” he admits hesitantly as he pushes his chair into the bathroom and quickly ties his hair up, wrapping another dappled towel you hand him over his broad back. As expected he changed the clothes he previously wore into a shirt that barely covers his stomach and the tan lines his hero uniform left. The sweatpants he wears are blotchy in some spots just like the material of his shirt around his shoulders; speckled with bleach and crimson dye.

It’s the very same shirt he wore when he first started changing his looks, hasn’t gotten rid of it for whatever reason. Maybe it’s a sentimental matter, the start of something new, of finding his true self and overcoming his anxieties and on the way to becoming the fearless hero he always aspired to be he didn’t only find his new favorite color — he found love, too.

“Shut up, Eiji. I’ve always wanted to dye your hair anyway,” you reply and gently push him down, running your fingers over his arms as he leans back against the chair. The fabric of his shirt tenses around his bulging muscles, close to ripping at the seams when he raises his hands to section the lower parts of his disheveled hair, oblivious to your lingering gaze on him and the way your breath hitches in your throat for a second before you finally get a hold of yourself. Drooling over your boyfriend isn’t your priority right now, you can do that after you’re done here. “I promise I’ll make sure it doesn’t get patchy, babe. Now, sit still.”

Slapping his hands away, you carefully pull some of the missing strands out of the messy bun on top of his head and comb through each sectioned part to detangle some knots before you pull the first bowl of bleach closer to you and start applying the product. Soon, the strong smell of chemicals burns in your nose and makes your eyes tear which makes it harder to focus, but you’re determined to give your best and a little stinging sensation won’t stop you now that you’re already fully committed.

Flipping each section with the end of your brush, you paint each side of the regrowth, then move on to the next strand and slowly but surely work over his whole head until every dark spot is covered. After you’re finished, you gently push his hair back to his original part line and brush through it once more, tightly wrapping some plastic foil around his hair after you smoothed everything out.

“Alright, I’m done with bleaching.”

“Thank you,” Kirishima stammers quietly. His fingers, calloused from fighting, fiddle with a loose thread of the towel, phone resting in his lap as he tries to find the right words to describe what he’s feeling before it’s too late. Honestly, it’s not a big deal. You already told him you wanted to do this and you’re about to shush him again, but something in his lowered gaze catches your attention — there’s doubt and wary glinting in his crimson irises and you wonder when those feelings surfaced while you were lightening his roots. “I’m sorry you have to waste your time with me, baby.”

A hand cups his cheek, gingerly turning his face so he’s looking up at you. Your thumb runs along his sharp jawline, caressing his warm skin and feeling the bumps and scars adorning his cheek and chin under the pad of your finger as you give him a reassuring smile. Instantly, you can watch how his pupils dilate and his lips part in anticipation when you move to lean down and press a sweet peck to the corner of his mouth, running your lips over his to deepen the loving kiss. It’s a fleeting touch, but it’s enough to bring a furious blush to his cheeks. “You don’t waste my time, Eijirou. Now let me do my job and rinse your hair, okay? You’ll look so manly when I’m done with you.”

He doesn’t reply.

There’s no need to. Although he’s always been a man of bold actions and affectionate words, unashamedly proclaiming fondness of you whenever he can, he can’t think of a fitting description to captivate how his heart feels like it’s going to explode with all the love he conceives for you. So, he only nods and gives you one of his cheesy smiles as he moves and bends over the sink to wash his hair.

It’s uncomfortable and the tension in his neck builds steadily, but he doesn’t want to move when he feels you lean over him and turn the faucet on. The warm water runs through his hair and collects the bleach in the drain while you run your fingertips through the wet strands of faded red and catch some water in your palms to rinse the spots that haven’t been washed yet.

After you ensure his roots are clean again, you tap his shoulder and pat his soaked hair with a soft towel. Everything about your treatment is soft, so gentle and tender as if you’re handling a figure made of glass, easy to break with one wrong move. It feels nice to be held so cautiously although his quirk is the opposite — hard and rough, made to be treated with brutal strength. Yet you seem to have dismissed that image of him as you wipe the beads of water from his temples and plant a kiss there instead. Reaching for the brush sitting on the sink, you detangle his hair and dry it further with another towel.

“Maybe I should dye my hair too.” You’re dunking the clean brush in the container of red dye you just mixed thoroughly, painting the color on his bleached roots and over the length of his hair to refresh the faded red. You’ve been working in comfortable silence for quite a while, occasionally snickering at a Tiktok Mina sent in the group chat or chatting about your dinner plans, giggling at a drop of spilled dye that landed on the tip of his nose when you weren’t paying attention and kicked the damp towels you used to dry his hair into a corner.

“Can I do it for you?” He asks almost immediately, sighing lowly when you run your fingertips over his head and massage his scalp with gloved hands. His shoulders slump and he turns his head to look at you, wide grin and eyes crinkling in puppy-like excitement as patiently waits for your reply. The towel around his shoulders slips and drops to the floor, right between your feet. "I want to return the favor, baby."

“Sure, you can do it... Stay still and let the color sit or I might take it back," you threaten jokingly and bend down, picking up the stained towel to drape it over his shoulders.

[cheesus-doodles]

Bike Rides with the Yandere Platonic Toman Boys HCs

more love for my platonic toman boys <3 honestly i love baji more than any of them but i still love them all blessed 🙏🙏🙏 i wish them nothing but happiness in this universe i created specially for them nothing bad happens not on my watch and no one can tell me otherwise  🙏🙏🙏 this has been in my drafts for a while, so decided to clean it up and post it so yall don't go empty for a whole week while i work on A Friend in Me 🤡 ‎

Link to A Friend In Me

Masterlist

‎

all you had to do was mention once how impressive you found their bikes when they came to meet you outside your school after classes end for the day

ye you better believe that all of them felt that pride seep into their ego all at the same time once they heard that

definitely some excited grabbing of each of your arms to pull you on a ride

you might have gotten torn 4 ways if Draken hadn't stepped in and beat everyone else away from you

and that was when the Toman boys started inviting you out for rides on their bikes all the time

you need to go to school? how bout a ride?

you need to go grocery shopping? well a motorcycle is faster than a bus

you just want to head out? well hop on

just keep the praises coming - the way the boys see it, praising their bikes is equivalent to praising them

and they love to hear you sing their praises

the moment the group got their own rides you weren’t allowed to ride anyone else’s bikes

you always rode passenger with one of them

you were more than willing to help out with maintenance, always offering to help them clean their bikes and do simple work

read up and learned everything you could

even if they were reluctant to let you dirty your hands, secretly glad to have you help out because it meant more time spent with you

will never let you pay for gas tho, if you try to slip them money, you somehow always find it back in your bag or purse the next day

so the best way to repay them is by cooking for them

or buy some small gifts

the money is really better spent on food

make sure everyone gets something though - you don't want to accidentally favour any one of your friends

for the love of all things innocent don’t ever answer their questions about whose bike is the best - it never ends well for the winner or for the rest 🤡

you had to step in to cool tempers after you accidentally answered that question once - and you forced yourself to learn not to make that mistake again

before Toman was officially formed, bike rides were impromptu, casual and fun

you were always invited when Mikey decides its a good time to go roaring down city streets, be it night or day, and you’ve never turn down the offer when you had the time

you love the roar of their engines and the revving as they go thundering down the streets

everyone agrees to take turns letting you ride passenger on their bike

even Mikey has to take a turn - no amount of whining or threats get the others to back down

Draken is definitely (secretly) timing how long you stay on any one bike and logging it down somewhere to make sure that no one member gets more time with you

time is logged down to the second

from the moment you sat down until you got off

he rather not the Toman founders start infighting over your attention - that would be rather embarrassing

but Draken also doesn’t want to be cheated out of his time spent with you

you better believe that that log is regularly reviewed and scrutinized by every founding member

some fights still happen but not huge and not often

Baji did give everyone else the cold shoulder for a week after realizing he was shorted 5 minutes though

of course you, not knowing that your time is being logged, didn't know why he was so pouty all week, but you did give him a bit more attention when you noticed him ignoring everyone else 🙏

this made everyone even more jealous, so you should probably stop that

they always make you wear a helmet

everyone has the same copy of your favourite helmet for when any of them manages to sneak you out for an individual ride

never fail to get caught by the rest 💯💯

never ends well but they always try

if they get caught, the time gets deducted from the following week's quota - so you bet they really do try their best to hide this

Mikey and Kazutora always aimed to take you out of school - they honestly see no point in you studying so hard anyway, just come have fun with them instead

Mitsuya and Pah-chin always aim for your errand times - giving you a ride meant that you could finish your errands quicker and spend your free time with them

Baji and Draken try for night time rides - they knew that you liked the cool night breeze plus you were always freer when the sun went down

you find it hilarious when two of them turn up at the same time and catch each other in the act 🤡

their sour faces are always the funniest because then neither can sneak you out without the other knowing

boys with long hair make sure to tie it up when riding with you so that it doesn't smack you in the face

love to hear you yip and cheer when they swerve (safely) from side to side or rev their engine

after they started Toman and the gang started to swell in size, you were still invited along when the gang goes for a ride, though the boys had to be careful when and where they take you along

obviously doesn't invite you if they are on their way to a gang meeting or to a fight

most of the rides are still casual and fun, but your friends no longer just ride aimlessly around the city

don't want you to get caught up if some other rival gang feel like starting some shit with them

as a group, they usually have no issues with city rides

but still, for most joy rides, the boys prefer to bring you out to the countryside and the outskirts of town where you're less likely to face any danger

whenever you rode with the gang, you definitely had to wear one of their jackets

could be in the middle of the day and they'll still make you do it

no exceptions

they need to make sure that the rest of the members knew you were off-limits, even though you weren’t an official member

lets you whoop and cheer as much as you want, and no one is allowed to even throw you a dirty look

honestly, the six founders didn't particularly favoured you coming for rides with Toman after they caught you being nice and friendly with the other members

and even worse: the other members being nice and friendly back

how if you made new friends?

but you mentioned that you loved looking back and seeing the parade of headlights that seemed to stretch endlessly

and that the motorcycles of an entire gang just hit your ears a different way

they couldn't take that happiness away from you

always make sure you're safe though, never going too fast and never doing any dangerous stunts with you on their bike

no one in the gang is allowed to do anything dangerous either when you're riding with them - they don't want to give you the wrong ideas

the boys make you hold on tight to them though, no standing up either - they will slow down and stop if they feel you aren't safe enough 🙏

ye the boys make sure everyone is on their best behaviour

they will only speed up when there's another biker gang looking to start a fight

whoever that has you riding passenger with them will peel off, and the rest will handle it

don't want others to see and recognize you later on, but don't want rivals to think that the Toman has gone soft either

in fact, if anyone dares to crash their rides, they will be dealt with even harder than normal

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hi babe! How you doing?

Since winter this year is terrible, snowy and cold I was wondering if you could do those sweet drabbles for our wolves and reader they have huge crush on who spends winter at Kaer Morhen and sneaks into their room and bed searching for warmth in the middle of the night?

A/N: Hi babe! I hope you like this :)

***

Lambert

You moved through one of the many corridors within Kaer Morhen, clutching the blanket that acted as a cloak around your shoulders. 

The corridor was dark with the exception of torches that were lit every few dozen feet along the stone wall. They were strategically placed outside of every room. 

Though most of the rooms on the floor were empty, you were still careful to be as quiet as possible. You knew how sensitive a witcher’s hearing was and you didn’t want to be the reason one of them was woken up. 

You came to a stop outside of the last room on the left. The door was shut, though you expected it to be. The young wolf inside was probably sleeping. Anyone in their right mind would be sleeping at three in the morning. 

You knocked twice on the door, frowning at how loud the sound was. It seemed to echo down the corridor, bouncing off of the stone walls. 

I hope Eskel doesn’t hear that.

There was no response from the witcher inside of the room, so you tried again, this time adding his name to the knock. 

“Lambert? Lambert, are you awake?”

A rustling noise could faintly be heard from beyond the thick wooden door. It was pulled open with a loud creak. 

Lambert stood there in nothing but a pair of trousers that hung low- perhaps too low -on his hips. Your eyes flickered over his chest, over the scars and hair that sparsely covered his muscular torso. 

“The hell are you doing up so late, bug?” He asked, voice groggy with sleep as he rubbed the side of his face. He didn’t notice you staring as he was still trying to force his eyes to open up. 

“I-I just- I’m sorry to-to um-,” You suddenly regretted deciding to leave your bed. Embarrassment settled into the pit of your stomach. “It’s just…. The-The fire in my room, it went out some time ago. There was a gust of wind and I don’t really know what happened. I tried to layer up with what I had but it didn’t work. It’s too cold.”

You rubbed your hands together. Whether it was from the cold or from nervousness, you weren’t sure. 

Lambert looked down at you, brows furrowed together.

“So your room’s too cold to sleep in tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry to bother you. I-I didn’t want to wake you up. If you could just maybe help me start the fire-,”

“I don’t want to walk all the way down there right now.” He cut you off. His answer made your stomach drop, but then he continued. “Come in here. You can stay with me for the night.”

“Oh, Lambert. I-I couldn’t do that.”

“Yeah you can.” He stepped aside and gestured for you to enter his room.

Even from out in the hall you could feel the heat coming from his room. How could you say no?

You stepped into his room, eyes flickering around, curiously taking in what you could see. 

With the light coming from the fireplace, you could only make out a few notable features of his room. The first was an easel set up in the far corner. The next was a stack of books next to the foot of his bed. 

Lambert didn’t give you enough time to examine his room any further. 

“You can get into the, uh, the bed.” He said, still lingering by the door. It was shut but he stayed near it for whatever reason. “If it would make you more comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Lambert, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Floor in front of the fire is nice. And I don’t…. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pull anything on ya if we share a bed.”

Your eyes immediately left his and instead found a space on the floor between the both of you. 

“I-I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t think that.” You murmured quietly, offering a small smile to him. “You’re a kind man, Lambert.”

“I’ve been called many things, bug, but kind ain’t one of them.” He rubbed the back of his head. “You can get comfortable first. I’ll get in after you.”

You nodded your head, pulling the throw blanket off of your shoulders and laying it across the foot of the bed. 

Lambert pretended not to watch you as climbed into the bed and got comfortable on one side. He said nothing when the side you chose to get comfortable on was the side he preferred. 

“Okay.” You spoke quietly from underneath the thick pile of blankets. “Do you always sleep with this many blankets?”

“Yeah.” He got into bed next to you. “I’m always cold, especially here during the winter. It gets cold as fuck.”

You nodded, shifting around a little on the bed. You rubbed your feet together, trying to get the warmth to spread to your toes. 

“Are you okay over there?”

“Just…. Just trying to get warm. It’ll take me a minute but I’m okay.”

“Here.”

You weren’t too sure what he was doing as your back was to him, but suddenly you could feel him against you. His body gave off an incredible amount of body heat that had you pressing back into him without even realizing it. 

“This okay, bug?” He asked, his warmth breath tickling your ear. 

“Yeah.” You giggled softly. “Thank you, Lambert.”

“Wouldn’t want you to freeze to death. Then I’d lose my kind guy badge you just gave me.”

Eskel

You knocked on the door to Eskel’s room, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to create some sort of heat but it was really no use. You were chilled straight to the bone. 

Your room was freezing cold and no matter how many blankets or how many layers you put on, you couldn’t seem to get warm. 

The door to Eskel’s room opened quietly. He appeared, hair messily tied back with a few strands falling around his face. The tunic he wore was unlaced and revealed a good portion of his chest where the top created a V. 

“Y/N, it’s early.” He looked over his shoulder to the window to confirm his own words. It was still pitch black outside. “Is something wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.” You frowned. “It’s freezing cold in my room. Do you think it would be okay if I stayed with you for the night?”

He looked at you for a few moments, lips parting but no words coming out. 

Your heart began to beat faster with anxiousness. You didn’t want to overstep and you didn’t want to scare him away. The two of you had been flirting lightly here and there over the winter and you didn’t want to ruin that. 

“If you’d rather not, Eskel, it’s no big deal. I can go bother Ciri-,”

“No, that-that isn’t necessary.” He cut you off. “Please, come in.” 

You held his gaze as you passed him, a smile on your lips. 

Your eyes flickered around the room, landing on his bed. It was neatly made as if he had never even tried to go to sleep. At the foot of the bed was a book. It was open with the pages down on the bed. 

“It doesn’t look like you were sleeping.”

“I-I wasn’t.” He admitted sheepishly. Eskel closed the door and moved into the room. “I was reading.”

“Would you read to me?” You asked him, picking up the throw that was laying across the foot of the bed. 

“If you’d like. You can get under the blankets if you want, Y/N.”

“This will do just fine right now. Your room is rather warm. It’s quite pleasant.”

He sat down on one side of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. You sat next to him, leaning against him. He was hesitant to put his arm around you, but as he did you seemed to melt right into his side. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asked quietly, looking down at you.

“Very. Thank you, Eskel.” You smiled. 

Geralt

You pulled the brush through your hair, letting out a heavy breath. 

“You look like something is on your mind.”

Your eyes flickered over to Jaskier. He was stretched out across your head reading a book while you did your hair for the night. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re staring at yourself in that mirror.” Jaskier sat up, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “You usually aren’t that narcissistic, so something must be up. What is it, darling?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, putting the hairbrush down so you could braid your hair. 

“Is it Geralt?”

“Jaskier.”

“I only suggest it was him because earlier this evening when we had dinner, you practically refused to look at him. I thought the both of you were…. rather fond of one another.”

“I thought so too. But I suppose since I am no longer the only one here he can bed, I serve no purpose to him anymore.”

“Y/N, you know you mean more to Geralt than a simple fuck.”

“He sure hasn’t made it seem that way since Yennefer arrive. Though I don’t blame him. She’s is a beauty.”

“She is, but all evil things are beautiful.”

“She’s not evil, Jaskier.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

“You didn’t see her and the Djinn.”

You finished your hair and stood up from the vanity, moving towards the bed. 

“He hasn’t paid me a second glance since she’s come. I only feel stupid for thinking that he no longer felt anything for her.”

“You know that isn’t how their…. predicament works, Y/N. You know he has no control over his feelings for her.”

You stayed quiet. Jaskier watched you for a few moments, wishing there was something he could do to help you feel better.

“I’d like to go to bed now, Jakier.” You told him.

“Okay, darling. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Jaskier.”

***

A few hours later, you were still awake. Not only were you unable to sleep, but there was a draft in your room that made you cold. 

After laying there for a while tossing and turning, you decided to read. You turned the page just as someone knocked on the door to your room. 

“Who is it?”

“Me.” Geralt’s deep voice came from the other side of the door 

“I’m in no mood for talking, Geralt. I’m trying to sleep.”

“I can hear your teeth chattering.”

“The only way you can hear my teeth is if you’ve been lingering outside my door.” You sat up, eyes focusing on the door.

You heard the witcher let out a heavy sigh. 

“Can I please come in, Y/N?”

“You may open the door.” You adjusted the shoulder of your chemise and pulled the blankets up to cover your chest. 

Geralt opened the door and stepped inside. Golden eyes flickered around the room, searching for something. 

“Did you leave a window open?”

“No. My room sometimes gets cold during the winter months. That’s why I tend to stay with Jaskier.”

Geralt nodded. His eyes fell on you. 

You shifted around a little on the bed. 

“Well? Did you have something you wanted to say or did you just come in here to look at me while I’m in my nightclothes?” You raised your brows at him. 

Geralt cleared his throat, eyes darting down to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet yours. 

“I-I don’t…. I’ve noticed that for the last couple of days you and I….” He trailed off, unsure of what to say or how to word what was going through his head. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

“Like the plague, yes.” You stated matter-of-factly. You looked down to the blanket and smoothed out the material. “I don’t wish to step on anyone’s toes. This keep may be big, but it isn’t big enough to last the entire winter feuding with the few who are here.”

Geralt furrowed his brows at you. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“Now if you’ll please excuse me, Geralt. I’d like to try to sleep tonight.”

Geralt locked his jaw, frustrated. 

“You’ll freeze if you stay here for the night.”

“Then so be it.” You stubbornly laid down in bed and brought the blankets up over your shoulder.

“Can I….” He grunted. “Can I stay with you for the night? At least to keep you warm?”

You swore your heart skipped a beat. You wanted to tell him no and to even start raising your voice at him. But you were far too cold and too tired to fight. 

“I suppose.”

Geralt moved across the room and kicked his boots off. He pulled the blankets back and climbed underneath them. 

“Won’t Yennefer be upset that you’re underneath the same blankets as me?” You looked over your shoulder at him. 

“She doesn’t care what I do. I am my own person. I’m an adult. I don’t have to ask for her permission to do anything.”

“But…. aren’t you two….?” You didn’t finish your sentence. 

One of Geralt’s arms slipped around your torso. He pulled you back into him. 

You could almost immediately feel his body heat coming through both of your clothes. 

“No, we aren’t.” His answer was soft. His breath was warm against your neck. “Is that what’s gotten you so upset with me?”

You said nothing, allowing yourself to sink back against him. 

His hand that rested on your stomach began to trace circles there. 

“Please understand that it’s a spell. Whatever I do feel towards her, it was forged in a last wish I made years ago.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to remember that when we are all in the same room and you forget that I exist.” You murmured.

A breath left his lips. 

“I am sorry, dove.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “I’m looking into ways to get rid of the spell. I don’t want it getting in the way of any real…. Any real feelings I may have for anyone else.”

His words made something in your chest flutter. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. 

“Good night, dove.”

“Good night, Geralt.”

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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[01solarsmiles]

fae of the air. a story of deception and little truth. with mark lee.

synopsis: it’s been years since mark joined your realm, and for the mot part, you’ve not been his biggest fan. your mother – the queen of rivermond – has orchestrated your life up until now, wanting to be in control of anything and everything. little does she know that she’s far from in control and she might just drive you to defecting to somewhere less… magical. with the fae playing cruel tricks on mark one minute and acting like his friend the next you start to lose your patience and begin slipping up with your secret plans. not to mention you’ve been successful for years without being noticed but more recently things have been going wrong and you can sense someone spying on you. do you ask for help or work through it all? the lies and deception included?

tl;dr: a story of deception and little truth

genre: magic, faerie!au, mark is mortal

warnings: swearing, unrequited love, themes of bullying bc fae are cruel creatures, mutual frustration, mutual pining, deception (bc fae are good at that since they can’t lie), a little bit of fondling, a couple of steamy kisses, loving gazing

wordcount: maybe 1k here

tags: @kiri-ah​ i don't know if you remember me saying in one comment off of a inbox message i sent to brooke about this and i remember having a note saved somewhere with your tag saved. so if this is still of interest. here you go.

a/n: this has easily been sat in my drafts for over a year now but over the course of this year i’ve been finding time to build and write this au. it’s something that makes me really happy and keeps me occupied on my days off. this is possibly the biggest project i’ve done yet. it requires a lot of world building – especially if you’re unfamilliar with holly black’s cruel prince series. or even her modern faerie tales series. her writing amazes me and basically i’ll never amount to something like her but here’s my go at something i’m passionate about. thank you. enjoy. below are some snippets from what i have written.

“He’s…” she hesitates, fingers still and dropping her dress as her eyes move to meet yours,  “human.”

The book in your lap slams shut and you move to stand, from underneath the tree you had been using for shade, on your slippered feet, astonished with the words that had just left her mouth.

“My mother approved this?”

She nods, silently, eyes carefully watching you.

A human was joining your classes. One that your mother had approved of too.

Today, like most of your waking moments, you were at the pondside, studying. Your teacher had taken to studying in the dusk of the evening wanting you to enjoy the particularly fragrant air as the sun set before jumping into the astrophysics of the universe. Mark, as usual, sat closer to the back, a soft floof of hair bent towards his writing paper as he fiddled with a lamp a blacksmith had gifted him. You assumed there was some kind of trick to it but nothing ever came of it but it worked just fine for the boy and never faltered or distracted any of the fae during class so there was no room to complain.

Yuta, a pink haired selkie, had taken a liking to the boy, infatuated with Mark’s round ears and unwebbed feet. It was oddly overbearing but you never said anything, doing your best to keep your distance as you had found it rather irritating trying to talk to the boy.

“Mark,” Yuta says in a loud sing-song voice, drawing shapes with his finger on Mark’s paper, “has anyone ever told you that you have such lovely ears? They’re so… perfect. Even with their imperfections.”

The rest of the group was busy talking amongst themselves but quietened down to tune in to the conversation without actually stopping their own conversations.

Mark lifts his head, cheeks flushed from either embarrassment from the attention being dragged his way or from the odd compliment of sorts, and says, “Yes. Usually it’s you who likes to point out my lack of pointed ears.”

Yuta grins, happy to have had an effect on him, “Well, I do think that it is a rather remarkable feature of yours – what with being human and all…”

“What in Queen Estrellica’s name do we do now?”

The panic in Mark’s voice was evident, catching you off guard and far from knowing what to do next, you edge closer to him, leaning on the heels of your bare feet – possibly not the best decision you had made, after all the information Mark had given you regarding the Human world. Not that you didn’t know the bare basics.

But you were finally here, the very thing you had been working up to for as long as you could remember and Mark had helped you get here.

afterword: so. here it is. updated whenever. there’s no schedule. only me doing my bit here and there. please enjoy.

[peakyscillian]

What You're Missing | Part Three

Summary: Reader & Cillian have been so busy, spending time together hasn't happened, Reader needs to show Cillian just what he's missing over the course of a week. Pairing: Cillian x Fem!Reader Part: 3/4 Warnings: Smut & Language. Requested: No. A/N: This has been sat in my drafts for a while, so I've decided to actually post it.

What You're Missing

Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

Part Three

'got an early finish planned today baby x' You glanced at his text, you'd finally had an idea for your article and didn't want to be distracted. You already had your plan for this evening. Finishing up in the bathroom, you made sure your hair was perfectly waved, light on the make up, his favourite lingerie set fitting your body perfectly. You padded into your shared closet looking for one of his shirts, ideally his favourite navy one, that was soft and nicely oversized on you. You grabbed some laundry from the hamper and made your way back down the stairs, loading the washer, you made sure beers were chilling in the fridge. ~~~~ Cillian froze at the front door, the picture of you filled his screen, his eyes lingered on the shot of you in the bathroom, a t-shirt scrunched over your breasts and a high waisted thong. His eyes flicked to the guys behind him as he opened the door "Y/N?" He called out, hoping your reply came from the bedroom as the guys piled in behind him. You stepped out of the kitchen, the high waisted thong sat on the soft flesh of your hips, the low cut bra was fitted on your breasts leaving a small amount to the imagination, his shirt thrown over you, he loved you in his shirts. Your eyes widened at the sight of Paul and Anto behind your husband "shit" you cursed a blush rising up your chest to your cheeks. Cillian ushered the guys into the lounge. "I mean we can go Cills" Paul chuckled "yea we don't want to interrupt you getting laid" Anto jibed at him. "ah fuck off you three I'll be right back" he closed the door behind him striding down the hall. He found you in the bedroom tugging on some sweats, hair now piled in a messy bun "I'm sorry" he started you glared at him still in the bra, his shirt discarded on the floor just a warning text would of been enough Cillian" you huffed pulling open the door to the closet "I didn't get the picture or text until just now" he was holding back a smirk. You reappeared from the closet pulling a cropped sweat over your head "wipe that smirk off your face Murphy and go have boys night" you rolled your eyes. "but I can send them home" he protested pulling you into his arms, you shook your head "surprisingly not in the mood" you pecked his cheek. Cillian nodded kissing you on the corner of your mouth "if you're sure" he pouted a little. "I'm sure Cill, I have work to finish off anyway" you nudged your nose against his "I guess there's always later" he whispered against your ear "maybe if I'm over my embarrassment" you laughed lightly. You stopped in the door way of the office "there's beers in the fridge and can you switch the dryer off" you blew him a kiss "anything love" he blew one back, skipping down the stairs. ~~~~ Cillian made his way up to the bedroom a few hours later, kicking the guys out finally after a lot of teasing from them. A smile pulled on his lips at the sight of you in the bed, laptop in front of you, friends on the tv, glasses perched on your nose "hey baby" he lent over you kissing your temple "hey" you smiled up at him "just going to get a shower" he mentioned to the en suite "I'll be here" he nodded making his way to the bathroom. You closed your laptop, resting it on the bedside table placing your glasses on the top as Cillian slipped into the covers smelling fresh and comforting, his hair still slightly wet. "Really am sorry about this evening darling" he lifted his arm so you could slide up next to him, you shook your head "it's fine Cill, just felt stupid" you mumbled hand on his chest. He sighed "no need to feel stupid love, should have told ya" he dropped a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up at him, eyes searching his face "what's wrong?" He asked brow furrowed in concern "nothing" you kissed his chest. Cillian shook his head he knew youso well "somethings up, don't get me wrong baby, I've loved these past couple of days, love having you love on me and being able to love on you, but even with our healthy sex life it hasn't been like this" he gave you a small smile as you buried your face in his

chest with a groan. You moved sitting up, taking his hands inyours "I guess I just felt like we haven't been together in so long and I just don't want you to forget about me" you felt the blush creep on to your cheeks, the smile dropped from his lips "forget about you? Darling I could never" he pulled you on to his lap hands on your hips "I don't think it's possible, I think about you every second of the day whether I'm with you or not and have done since the day I met you seven years ago" he continued. You kissed his lips softly "I just missed you, all of you and wanted to show you" you shrugged as he nodded understanding you "I get that pet, a few more weeks and we can have some downtime" His hands were roaming up the back of your pyjama top "also for the record I love those outfits and all the fancy stuff but my favourite you is like this, relaxed and comfortable in our home" he kissed your neck as you held back the tears in your eyes "sweetest thing you've ever said Murphy" you giggled softly as he huffed out a laugh. *** Taglist @missymurphy1985 @janelongxox @queenshelby @heidimoreton @being-worthy @elenavampire21 @cloudofdisney @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @uchihacumdump @vhscillian @otterly-fey @inkandpen22 @pocket-of-possibilities @cilleveryone

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 3]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

A/N: hey y’all! thank you for your patience with this chapter. enjoy!! :) [also totally didn’t have this in my drafts then forget to post earlier pfftttt whaaaatt?]

Warnings: angst with a tiny amount of fluff. anakin finally makes his debut in this series. it gets better just stay with me. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks

Anakin Skywalker had witnessed many things over the years. 

Giant beasts? At least once a week. Sith Lords? Becoming too common. Droid armies? All year long. Looking death in the eye? Simply another day in the life of a Jedi. 

Nothing could ever have prepared him for the sight he was currently witnessing. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Master, The Negotiator, the Jedi Council’s most prized Jedi…sulking.

It has been a full week since You returned to the Jedi Temple and Anakin couldn’t help to think his former Master’s mood and your arrival were connected. He was vaguely aware of your past friendship, only hearing bits and pieces of the adventures you had together as Padawans. 

During his days under Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship he would often hear about how “a wise Jedi I once knew” would do certain things. He wanted to know more about this oh-so-great Jedi, however, any time the young boy asked his Master would always brush him off with a mournful look in his eyes.  

He didn’t understand at the time but now he’s beginning to piece together that perhaps there was something more between the two of you. 

“You think Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi were courting?” 

“Keep your voice down, Snips,” Anakin hushed.

“Sorry, sorry. But Master,” Ahsoka lowers her voice, “what led you to that conclusion? I’ve hardly seen them together since Master Y/l/n came back. What makes you think they could be lovers?” 

“That’s just it, Ahoska. They’ve been avoiding each other like the Rakghoul plague. Obi-Wan told me they were such good friends, and now that they’re back they can’t stand to be in the same room as each other? I don’t buy it.” Anakin looked back to where Obi-Wan sat with Commander Cody, no doubt brainstorming new battle tactics and liberation plans. 

“So what do you suppose we do? Set them up or something?” The look her Master gave her made her regret her words the moment they left her mouth. 

“Come on, Snips. It’s a good idea. We get them to stay in the same room so they have no choice but to confront each other and talk things out! It’s genius.” Anakin smiled, his eyes still on his former Master. He had a feeling if Obi-Wan were to find out about this plan he would be in for a major lecture but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He couldn’t stand to see the old man look so miserable, not if he can do anything about it. 

Ahsoka crossed her arms and followed her Master’s gaze. Something was clearly different about her Grand-Master. He had put his full attention into ending the war, which wasn’t new. However, she could tell something was off. He no longer came out to the landing zone to greet returning fighters, stayed away from the meditation and training centers as well as the Jedi Archives which was the most off-putting observation considering that was where he spent most of his time.

Anytime someone needed to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, the first place they would check was the ancient history section of the Jedi Archives. 

“I don’t know why you find so much interest in these old books Y/n/n,” Obi-Wan complained from across the table. “Can’t we go practice our lightsaber skills instead?” 

You smiled. “Nuh uh, mister. If I won the wager you promised to sit with me during my reading time. Now shush, and read.” You pushed the unopened textbook toward the pouting Padawan. “Maybe you’ll actually learn something.” 

Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out in a childish manner, sighing dramatically when you gave him a certain look and reluctantly opened the cover and began to read Tales of The Old Republic. 

Safe to say from that point onward, Obi-Wan would join your daily Archive visits with zero complaints. 

You close the book, careful to make sure no pages fell out and gently push it back into its place on the shelf. Using the force, you carefully push the ladder you were currently standing on over to the next column and begin nitpicking through the array of old texts. 

It took a few days for you to settle in and readjust to the Jedi Temple life. Once you had, however, things quickly took a turn. 

Master Yoda requested that you help train some of the younglings who were having trouble advancing into the next stages of becoming a Jedi. In all honesty, you much rather have had the freedom to roam for at least one more week, but the new role presented an excuse to not be around a certain blue-eyed Jedi. 

“Looking for something?” 

The voice startled you, causing you to jump and lose your balance on the ladder. You yelp as you begin to fall towards the ground, bracing yourself for the hash impact and the bruises that would add to the collection on your side still currently healing.  

Instead, you feel a pair of arms catch you, one under your back and the other behind your knees in a classic bridal style. The hold felt secure instantly, and you instinctively clung to the tunic of your savior. You look up to thank the person for preventing any injuries, but the blue eyes staring back at you made your mind go blank. 

Obi-Wan stared back, unsure of what to say. This was the closest he has been to you since you left a decade ago. He longed to have you in his arms, to hug you, to regain that safety net you provided he knew he could always fall back on.

“Um...thank you, General.” It came out as more of a question, your mind still reeling from almost falling and also the fact that the man who you had been actively avoiding just happened to be in the same place you spent hours of your youth together. 

“Obi-Wan, please. No need for formalities, darling.” The old nickname slipped out, and he was about to apologize when he noticed the light blush that spread across your face. Perhaps not everything about you has changed. 

“Right...Obi-Wan. Well, I’ll be on my way then,” You rushed, trying to pass by him but he stopped you once again by the call of your name. 

“Y/n/n’s wait. Whatever game you’re playing, frankly I am not a fan of it.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What are you talking about?” You turned around and looked at him confused. 

“You were the one who summoned me here,” he stretched his arms out, “here I am and now you’re trying to run away again. I hardly think that’s fair.” He was beginning to get frustrated. He came in with his heart on his sleeve, ready to finally talk to you after so long and find out why you’ve been keeping your distance. Now, all he felt was betrayal and irritation at the ongoing dance you insist on doing around each other. 

He preferred to dance like you did in your youth, but alas this was nothing but another sign he needs to get mind out of the past.  

You scoffed lightly. “Again? What is that supposed to mean exactly?” You knew exactly what he meant, but you didn’t want to admit it. You’ve been denying it for ten years and Force be damned if you’d admit it now. 

“You’ve been avoiding me since your return--” You open your mouth to protest but he ignores you and continues “--and then you send the youngling to bring me here, only to try to flee upon my arrival,” He frowns, lifting his elbow and resting it on his remaining crossed arm. “I know our history can make things...difficult in the present time,” He glanced around cautiously as he spoke,”but I would appreciate it if we make an agreement simply to not speak from now on. No more games.” 

You blinked, head tilting slightly as you waited for him to finish. “Obi-Wan, I didn’t ask for you to come here. Nor would I ever involve younglings in personal matters.” He should know that, you thought. But should he really? 

His face fell from annoyance to embarrassment, his arms falling to his sides. “Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to do now. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up. I should have known better. 

You purse your lips and nodded slowly. “Well, I’m glad we at least came to an agreement. Goodbye, General Kenobi.” You took your leave, forcing yourself not to look back as you felt his eyes watching your figure. 

Obi-Wan let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he just ruined any and all changes of reconnecting with you. In his defense, however, you were the one avoiding his attempts at friendly conversation and refusing to meet and make up for lost time.  

Still, something didn’t feel right about this. 

“What the kriff was that?” 

Ah, there’s that something. “Anakin, please tell me this was not your doing.” 

Anakin smiled guilty, Ahsoka coming out from behind the bookshelf to stand next to her Master. 

“It was Snips' idea.” Anakin shrugged, flinching when he felt her punch his arm. “Ow!”

“You were the one who came up with the plan, and now look! Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi will never get together--” Ahoska stops herself, realizing she said too much. “Oh no.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan looks at them both incredulously. “First of all, Master Y/l/n and I are simply…” he wanted to say friends, but even that was a reach at this point, “acquaintances. We knew each other in the past, and in the past our friendship shall stay. As for ‘getting together’, you both know very well any implication of that goes directly against the Jedi Code.” He crossed his arms tightly as he scolded. 

“I can tell you harbour feelings for them, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to lie to us.” 

“Whatever feelings I may or may not have for Y/n are unrelated. You must understand your responsibilities as a Jedi. No matter what emotional sacrifice we must make.” He made a point to look at Anakin at the end, knowing he won’t follow the implication but at least hoping he’ll get the message.     

“We’re sorry, Master.” Ahsoka looked down in shame not at what they had tried to achieve, but at the cost and clear damage they caused. 

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand over his beard before resting it on her shoulder. “It’s alright young one. You meant no harm. Perhaps some things are better left forgotten.” 

Oh, if only it were that simple. 

A Padawan approached the three of them quickly. “Excuse me, Master Yoda sent me to tell you he and Master Y/l/n are waiting for you all in the council room.” 

Of course, these things never are. 

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heres a box to put your heart pieces in  -> []  :) 

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