#rhythm: bad elixir

[tsunagite]

Term Herbicide!

Also redraw, cuz everyone (aside from Destr0yer) got a redesign since then.

[amateurduhhh]

What About Me | Harvey x Reader

Summary: A story about how Pelican Town's bus revamp sends Harvy into a world of worry with the farmer.

Content warnings: injury

It was a calm evening in Pelican Town. Closing time was nearing, but Harvey always stood by for any emergencies that may need to be addressed. That was part of the glory that came with living above his practice.

"Okay, Dr. Harvey, I just clocked out, I'm gonna head home now!" Maru declared.

"Alrighty, see you!"

He leaned back in a desk chair, filing paperwork and checking inventory. In a quiet town like Pelican Town, it was relatively uncommon for anyone to need something when he wasn't open. Occasionally, the farmer would pass out in the middle of god-knows-where and that horizon would only be expanded by the new bus repair that was somehow managed.

Harvey didn't mind helping you out. In fact, he found it amusing at first. He understood it may have been hard to fully understand the body's limits with the work experience of an office worker. It was just something to scoff and roll his eyes at. What a silly farmer, he thought. 

That is until it became more frequent. It took a copious amount of begging and guidance to improve your habits. Harvey even informed you of the purple mushrooms, starfruit, magma caps and nutritious meals that might keep you in good shape while monsters tear at your flesh. As a result of your constant accidents, he made sure to keep his elixirs extra stocked. He only hoped that the distance from the Calico Desert and Ginger Island from Stardew Valley would encourage you to be safer.

A shrill ring from his phone blared next to him. He sighed and picked up the receiver, holding it to the side of his face. Regretfully, Harvey never even glanced at the number who called. Never did he expect it to be dispatch, calling in about an emergency trauma situation.

"Emergency? How bad is it?" Harvey stood up, and scrambled through the building to prepare for the patient. "Uh- y-yeah, bring ‘em in... I have the supplies."

He prepared an operation room as fast as he could. 

The emergency door burst open, and two people propelled a bright yellow stretcher to his operation room. The person was unconscious and blood sprouted out of their arm in sync with their heartbeat. "Patient was found in the Skull Cavern mines of Calico Desert. Patient is hypotensive and we can't find a pulse. We believe they suffered blunt force trauma to the chest. We recorded several medial lacerations on their left arm. There is atrial hemorrhaging–"

"I can see that!" He said. Harvey, examined the patient, his eyes catching sight of the face, causing his stomach to lurch and anger to set in his chest. In his residency, he was always good at handling the sight of blood, broken bones, and organs. It was never an issue. Until they had come from you. It wasn't something he could prepare for. The sight had caused a rock to form in his stomach.

"What the hell," he breathed out in white-hot rage. Harvey was fuming. "Why hadn't you put a tourniquet on their arm yet!"

"Doctor," the paramedic's voice was worried. "Patient's heart rhythm..!"

Harvey's eyes widened at the monitor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no other option than to remain calm.

"Sinus Tachycardia. Shit, the hemothroax is making her heart tamponade. Get me an eighteen gauge needle, I need to get the fluid out of their chest, ASAP."

"I'll prep the EGC first!" A paramedic offered.

"I don't have time for an ECG, dammit!" Harvey snapped. The paramedics scrambled at his outlash for his request.

He felt his nerves explode and knew it was for the worst. Panic made his hands sweat and slick underneath the latex gloves he wore. There was a great tightening in his chest like a furnace of hellfire every time his eyes dared glimpse at yours.

The paramedics prepared the entry site and handed Harvey a large needle. Now he knew he had to get it together. He drew in a sharp, deep breath. To calm his nerves he thought it was good you were unconscious to spare you the image of the largest needle you'd ever seen plunge into your chest.

The thin needle glided through to your flesh, without any navigation Harvey bore the task with nothing but intuition, until the needle penetrated the pericardium. Behind him, one Paramedic had their back turned, unable to watch this infinite medical wager. A true test of a gut feeling.

Sweat slid down Harvey's forehead when he felt the needle had found the pericardium. He steadily lifted the syringe, the paramedic watching it fill with blood while Harvey had his eyes on the heart monitor. A great flood gate of stress opened and deposited his mind to see your heart rhythm steady.

After the surgery, and the departure of the paramedics, Harvey remained slumped against the hospital wall. It took a while for him to work up the energy to be upset. First, he was thankful, second, he was angry. He decided to wait until you woke up to be angry.

Days passed since the surgery.

As of now, he stood weakly beside your bed, he had a tight grip on your hand. His brownish locks swept messily over his eyes, dangling like vines in front of his glasses that slid down his nose. He was no longer wearing his white lab coat and the sleeves of his button down were rolled up, his necktie was nowhere to be seen.

After shock exhaustion hit him hard– something he experience a lot during his career but even harder since it was you on the operating table.

Harvey began coming up with random grievances, many of them being very valid. Like why is there no medical center near a very dangerous mine, let alone a desert. And why must you always venture alone? Especially without telling anyone? Why didn't you think things through before going down there?

A soft groaning sound came from your mostly motionless form. All except your eyelids remained still. A sudden wave of fatigue and a bone chilling pain all over made it almost impossible to move without wanting to die.

"Har... vey...?" you muttered, slightly craning your head to the side. He was just in the corner of your vision. His flustered face in all of its glory.

Harvey's physician instincts kicked in and began checking your vitals as well as asking you questions. "Do you know what day it is?"

"'s it the seventh of sp...ring?" you recalled.

"Where do you live?"

"Stardew Valley."

"Do you know my name?"

"Harvey."

"Now last question," said Harvey, a little irritated. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

It took you a moment to reply. The question didn't quite sound like it had an answer. You opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out.

"What?" you said, tensing up a little.

"I've lost count of how many times I've asked you to please be careful." His tone was desperate and distraught. You didn't pick up on the sincerity of his voice, being too involved in the pain in your side.

As soon as you realized what this was about, all the tension in your shoulders deflated. You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Come on Harvey. I'm going to be okay."

"You don't know that," he stressed. There was a hot anger in his tone that sent tendrils of worry down your spine. "So stop acting like your skin is made of platinum. You don’t even realize it, but you may just be the luckiest person in the Ferngill Republic! This isn't the first time you came into my clinic an inch away from death and every goddamn time... I don't know if you're going to make it."

You frowned. "Now... wait a minute..." Everytime this happened you saw the way Harvey's jaw locked, waiting for you to go home from his emergency surgery so he could break down over the fact he'd have to do it again.

He felt like his soul was becoming too big for his body, like a shaken Joja Cola threatening to burst. All he could do was tremble with desperation and anger. "You can't go back to Skull Cavern... and don’t think I don’t know about your little ventures into the Ginger Island volcano, hell, even the local mines-- you’ve lost your fucking mind-- you can't--."

You felt indignant. "That isn't your call Harvey." Even in your most vulnerable state, you stood your ground. It made sense to Harvey why you always ventured out into danger. "I can't believe you would even suggest that... that's so... selfish!"

"Maybe it is," he argued.

"What about my job, I make money by doing this! What about me leaving Joja Corporation to be here? The community center, too. Didn't get fixed without a few broken bones. What about that?"

The Joja Cola inside Harvey had finally exploded. A loud thud shook the bedside table and Harvey was standing, fuming. Tears cascaded like waterfalls down his eyes, ignited with fire and determination. His voice was broken and sounded like a scratched CD. 

"What about me!" He gestured to himself with intensity. “What about me! Oh, it’s just one crisis after another and it doesn’t seem like a crisis to you, but every time I see you on that goddamn gurney I feel like my world is coming to an end! Dammit, if you come in again, and I can’t save...” he choked on his words. “I thought you were going to die, don’t you get it?”  

You clenched your jaw, your face radiated heat. Harvey had scanned your eyes, as if he was frantically searching for something. He must have seen something because seconds after, he looked away, rubbing his eyes from underneath his glasses. 

“Would you save me again? If I ignored this little debacle between us. And as soon I could get back up on my feet, and I go back into the mines, come in with a hole in my chest, the size of your hand. Would you save me, if you knew you could? Or… or even if you knew you couldn’t?”

He winced, his moustache wrinkling on his lip. His head bobbed, nonetheless. “You’re so cruel, you know that.” he said, looking at you like you asked what color the sky was. “You have this terrifying grip on me and I don’t think you realize it. I would rather not think of anything like that... you dying. Yet you force me. Not just now, but every time I see you rolling into this hospital. If you died, if you were on my operation table, my emergency room, and you flatlined... I doubt I could bring myself to hold a scalpel again. I am so deeply in love with you. I'd save you a billion times in a billion different lives. Again and again and again, I would save you in a box, with a fox, here or there, or anywhere. I am saving you now, and you’re oblivious. The most potent medicine I can administer for the madness within you is my own goddamn pleading.”

"I'm tired of this," you confessed. There was long a silence of him examining you. There was dark reddish-purple bruising around your face and various large ones dotting the lengths of your appendages. Old bruises that hadn't yet healed reopened and fading lacerations from being handled by Void Spirits throbbed around your wrists. "You're right. I... need a break from the mines. I haven't let myself heal."

Harvey looked caught off guard. He froze, eyes glued to your pathetic, ragged form. Hooked up to countless monitors and machines. 

"I can't keep getting hurt like this. I... I try to act like it's no big deal but... I haven't been sleeping, it's so scary. I need stone and ore and money to expand my farm. I've gotten so caught up in boosting my efficiency I've completely turned into who I was when I worked for Joja."

Harvey was silent for a good moment. He took your hand. "(Y/N)," he spoke tenderly, his throat raw and shakey. "You live comfortably enough to take a medical leave from work. Doctor's orders, you understand?"

You frowned. Farming was your passion. But he was right, and the break might raise the prices of your crops if they become higher in demand. You took a deep breath, barely managing a nod. "I'll be awfully bored and lonely if I'm not working." You complained.

"Don't worry." Harvey managed a gentle smile. "I'll make my visits frequent."

"And long."

Harvey smiled. "One day, they'll be permanent."

[acornerofnowhere]

Have finished the first Witcher game and realised that systemic RPGs give me anxiety.

More thoughts below the cut (spoilers ahoy):

1. It's taken until this moment for my opinion on the matter to fully crystallise but I just can't with systemic games. People look at me as if I've grown a second head whenever I say I prefer JRPGs but the appeal is very simple: A-to-B, straight line, emotional teen, magical airship adventure, kill god, bish bash bosh and you're done. I'm a doctrinaire completionist, I want to absorb everything a piece of media has to offer, complete every quest, trigger every cutscene, max every relationship, and my trouble with systemic games is that this mindset guarantees an utterly miserable time. You're supposed to go with your gut, let the chips land where they may and reconcile yourself with the game's circadian rhythms, and I'm just not built like that, it gives me anxiety that I'm missing content if I don't have a walkthrough next to me at all times, spoiling myself on every twist just to make sure I reach the point where there even is a twist.

2. There are very occasional glimmers of brilliance in the game's writing that make its frequent atonal clangers all the more inexcusable, like a drunken conversation between Geralt, Dandelion and Zoltan about what the witcher really wants out of a relationship with some genuine humour and pathos sandwiched between fetch quests that are constantly about to fall apart at the coding level. Line delivery is universally flat but that may just be the translation, and you're never sure whether the moments of levity are genuine or the result of engine limitations whacking all gravity out of a scene with a lump of plywood. You can just about spy the potential buried under layers of stitch work and technical compromise but the team's bizarre priorities make them very hard to extract.

3. I haven't investigated how involved Sapkowski was in the development of this game. I got the impression from the famous bad blood between him and CD Projekt Red that he signed off the name and pretty much left them to it, but there's various elements from the game that crop up five years later in his follow-up Witcher book Season of Storms (like the Golden Oriole elixir, the prophet Lebioda, the vodyanoi, even the ongoing sorcerer project to create "superhumans" that Sapkowski proceeds to take the piss out of), which suggests he either was involved and contributed ideas, that CD Projekt Red had access to his notes, or that Sapkowski had played the game much like everyone else and felt entitled to filch whatever he pleased as the whole shebang was ultimately his idea. We may never know.

4. The sexual escapades that Geralt IF/THEN logic puzzle's into are about as titillating as a cheese grater and I kinda love how awful they are? While he does get around a bit in the books he isn't nearly as big a man-whore as the game makes him out to be. But a larger incongruity between book!Geralt and game!Geralt is the inevitable product of being assigned the protagonist role in a tale where his decisions shape the world around him in major ways while in the books he is much more a passive observer of human behaviour and a point-of-view character for the real protagonist of the Witcher saga, Ciri. Incidentally, Yennefer and Ciri are completely absent from this game, and Triss (if you so choose) seems to take advantage of Geralt's amnesia to insert herself as the love of his life. One hopes future games will explore this tension but for now the mere existence of a personality beneath Triss's polygonal exterior requires layering a whole lot of book knowledge atop a very skeletal collection of jittering animations.

Onto The Witcher 2!

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 16: Blood play

October 31st, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Summary: You and Matt are not friends, you simply fuck to get it out of your systems. When you get hurt after getting yourself in trouble, one thing leads to another, and you both realize that blood isn't always a bad thing.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), blood play, graphic description of blood, enemies that are lovers, hate fuck, unprotected p in v, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, Dom!Matt, brat!Reader, cum play, this is nasty as fuck (read at your own risk), not proof read

Word Count: ~1.9k

A/n: And with this, Kinktober has officially come to a close. Happy Halloween! I hope you enjoyed these past two weeks. I'm so happy I got it done, even with some delays. Thank you all for your support! I love you guys. Good night!

The crimson trail down your arm has a copper tang to it. It paints a distinctive red picture, a piece of art that you will never find in a gallery. 

His tongue darts through the thick line of blood. The area where the blade nicked you is red, maybe a little swollen, but it surely was a clean cut. Why he is so obsessed with the essence that keeps you alive, you’re not sure.

Maybe it’s because your heart is the very thing responsible for the red elixir running through your veins, and he can hear every beat it makes. He has memorized the rhythm. He could pick your heartbeat out of a million other people. That’s why running is futile.

He knows you better than you know yourself. And no matter where you go, you are sure he will follow. He would follow you to the end of the earth and beyond. That is how obsessed he is. 

You can’t deny it gives you a thrill that he needs you so badly, he would do anything to keep you by his side. To make sure you are his. He would go to extraordinary lengths to say, “You are mine!” And to have you believe it, too. 

You’re supposed to hate him, despise him, curse him to hell, but all you feel when you look at his face is a desperate need to be near him. He hasn’t manipulated into feeling like this, not at all. If anything, you forced yourself into his life because you couldn’t stay away anymore. You saw him, and that was when you knew you had to have him. 

He didn’t cut you. Matt would never. The devil, maybe, but not your Matthew. Even though you went head-to-head many times, he would never physically harm you.

No, the cut on your arm that matches the one on your abdomen happened because you were foolish enough to think you didn’t need his help when you went out tonight. It was Daredevil who saved your ass, and it was he who berated you for being so stupid. You argued, but in the end, you were stupid tonight. You got yourself hurt. 

It is a mystery to you how you went from there to here, to him licking the blood off your salty skin. The motion alone is sensual enough to make your desperate thighs lock around his hips. You invite him in. You always have. 

His tongue travels the distance from your bicep to your collarbone, leaving a red trail in its wake. His unfocused eyes come to level with yours. You stare into those hazel orbs that display the softest speckles of green. His pupils are dilated. You can see yourself reflected in the windows to his soul, and it makes you swallow. 

The wetness that has gathered between the folds of your core starts trickling down your thigh. Before you met him, you thought it was just something some authors used to exaggerate the state of arousal, but now you know that it is possible. He gets you riled up like no other man has before because he knows your body in a way no man has ever cared to try, and that binds you to him. To him, his fingers, his sinfully skilled mouth, and most importantly, his cock. 

You have always been selfish. You have always wanted everything all the damn time. Now that you’ve got what you wanted, letting him go is off the table, even when you hate each other most of the time. When you’re together like this though, you can pretend that life isn’t the shit show that it is and that you actually work. That you deserve each other. That there isn’t some mythical force forcing you apart at any given moment—it always brings you back together in the end, so how wrong can it be? 

Loving the enemy has never seemed more lucrative than it does in the worst of moments. When you’re bleeding and naked underneath him in bed, his cock poking at your needy entrance; it is the wrong moment, and it still is so right. 

His lips meet yours in a bruising kiss. You kiss him back, a soft moan slipping from your lips to his, and he swallows it like it’s water. 

“You were so stupid,” he tells you again. 

You should be offended, but you can’t be. Not when he is this close to you, his scent and the taste of his lips consuming you whole like a toxic wave of smoke. It engulfs you, keeping you locked in an airtight room where all you can feel is him, and only him. 

He is the man of your dreams. A man you can’t have. 

Right now though, you have him. Right now, you can have him.

You suck his bottom lip into your mouth. He tastes like bittersweet heaven. 

“Not my fault you’re slower than me,” you retort, but your voice is breathy. 

He huffs. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You push him a little too far. 

Matt grabs your sides, dragging his fingers through the cut on your stomach. You hiss. The pain turns into a cloud of pleasure instead, nestling right above your cunt. A monster waiting to be unleashed. An animal waiting to have its hunger satisfied. 

He drags his scarlet-stained fingers up your stomach, creating even more art to be marveled at. You are the masterpiece, and he is putting the finishing touches where they need to be. He stops right above your heart, only for a second though, then moves on to your neck. You want him to wrap his fingers around it, to give you stability, to give you security, but he doesn’t. Instead, his bloodstained fingers move to your jaw, force it down, and he buries them down your throat. 

You have blood in and around your mouth. Your blood. It tastes like dirt and copper. It shouldn’t turn you on this much. The red gives a stark contrast to your skin, yet blends perfectly. 

You choke on his fingers. They are so thick, you can only imagine what his cock would feel like right now, resting heavily on your tongue. Your lips close, and you suck his digits further into your mouth. You taste your blood, your sweat, and the dirt on his fingers. It’s disgusting, but it’s not. You moan. You can’t help it. Your walls clench around thin air. 

Blood. Blood isn’t supposed to be arousing. It’s blood. 

But God, you are sick. You don’t want to be healed because you and Matt… you can be sick together. Right now, nothing else matters. There are no limits other than the hard ones you’ve set, and he takes his job very seriously. 

“I would fuck your throat until all you can taste is your blood and my cum,” he purrs, “but I am way too impatient.”

Fortunately, so are you. 

“Turn around. On all fours.”

You do as you’re told. You push your ass back into him, and he growls. 

“Behave,” he says. He stills your hips by grabbing your cheeks, squeezing them roughly. 

You moan just a little bit more than necessary. “Please,” you beg.

Your back arches when he pulls you back by the hair, and he buries his cock deep inside you. Without warning, without foreplay. But you’re so wet, it doesn’t matter. 

Matt doesn’t waste time. He doesn’t allow you time to adjust to his size and girth. He rams into you, filling you to the brim. He pulls out and thrusts back into you, and he does so hard. 

You cry out. You’re so tight around him, your walls screaming at the intrusion, but you can’t fight him. Not when he’s got his arms around you, one around your shoulders, the other around your torso. He keeps you trapped against him as he thrusts so deep, you can feel him in your stomach. 

When Matt fucks you, he fucks you hard, but he never fails to please you. That is one thing that is always consistent. He reaches the sweetest spots, making your eyes roll back and toes curl, and he makes you come every time. Your pleasure is his ultimate goal. 

Your blood paints your stomach red. He’s obsessed with dragging his hand through it, you notice. Even cross-eyed and moaning, you notice. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me,” he grunts into your ear. 

In a moment of confidence, you grab his hand and force it around your throat, leaving a crimson imprint. “Fuck me like you mean it,” you say. 

He chuckles. “Fucking greedy.”

Within seconds, your face meets the mattress again. He forces you down while he pounds into you even harder than before, and your scream tells him that this is exactly what you asked for. 

The pain of your cuts mixed with whatever magic he’s using to drill his cock so deeply drives you to the precipice within seconds. Matt reaches around you to touch your clit. He only has to rub the abused bundle of nerves two more times before you cry his name into the pillow, bite down on the silk sheets, and come hard. Harder than ever before. 

Your cunt spasms around him, clenching so hard, he can barely move, and the sound of his full name on your lips in such sinful ecstasy cause his balls to tighten with his own impending orgasm. 

But he doesn’t give you the pleasure of coming inside of you this time. The one thing you love most, the feeling of his cum buried deep inside of you as you make your way home from his place, he doesn’t grant you. Instead, he pulls out, flips you back onto your back, and he pumps his cock with his hand a few more times before his face contorts and he releases all over your bloody stomach. 

You don’t register at first. The warmth of his cum on your wounds brings you back to reality. 

It’s so messy. When you come back to yourself, Matt is heaving above you. You look down on yourself. Your skin is covered in the white of his cum and the red of your blood. It is the lewdest painting you have ever seen, but it is still a masterpiece in itself. 

Your intrusive thoughts win. You drag your finger through the sinful cocktail. It’s sticky. You feel it for a moment before bringing it to your lips. 

The taste is foreign. Copper, a bit salty, maybe a bit sour, but it is you and him and you are so happy to be tasting it, you let out another lustful moan. 

This is perfection. Perverted, disgusting perfection, but perfection nonetheless. 

Matt bites his lip. “You’re naughty,” he says. 

“And you made me bleed worse than before,” you reply. 

He chuckles. “Touché.”

He plops down next to you, but you know it won’t last long. Even when he pulls you into his arms, you know it won’t last. You have to leave soon. 

Soon, he is going to ask you to leave and to never speak of this to anyone, and you will do as you’re told all over again because you’re not a couple. You’re not friends. You’re never going to be. 

You’re enemies, and no sex in the world is going to change that. 

Well, it was fun while it lasted. For just five more minutes, you can pretend that your relationship isn’t as complicated. Even though you can’t.

And you never will. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend & @sunaspotato (please don't be weirded out by me)

[rubiedmoon]

A Knight's Distance

There she was again. Moving through the lower town with that quiet purpose of hers. 

It was always the same: a basket in the crook of her arm, sleeves pushed past her elbows, a stubborn wisp of hair falling into her eyes that she never quite managed to keep pinned. And somehow, without ever glancing at Gaius’s list, she remembered everything—every name, every ailment, every blend of tonic and tincture that needed delivering.

I watched her from the edge of the market square, lingering near the blacksmith’s stall under the guise of buying a new blade oil. Truth be told, I wasn’t in need of anything. Except perhaps… her.

She didn’t notice me—not yet. She was too focused. Her gaze sharp, but kind. Intent on her task, but never so much that she couldn’t stop and ask a child how their cough was faring, or a bent old man if he needed help walking home.

She made it look easy. Like she belonged. Like the weight of Camelot never touched her.

I envied that about her.

And yet… I loved her for it, too.

I didn’t dare speak of it—not to Merlin, not to Gwaine, and certainly not to her. What could I say? That the knight with a fate soaked in blood and prophecy had fallen for the healer’s apprentice with wildflowers in her hair and earth beneath her fingernails?

I was not meant for soft things. Not anymore.

Still… I followed.

At a distance, always. Just close enough to see her smile when someone thanked her. Close enough to hear her hum sometimes, soft and distracted, like the world hadn’t broken yet. Maybe for her, it hadn’t.

She turned the corner by the baker’s shop, heading toward the last cottage on the lane—Martha’s, I think the older woman’s name was. Old widow. Bad joints. Gaius had brewed a poppy elixir for her two days ago.

YN didn’t knock. She never needed to. People trusted her. They let her in.

I leaned against the sun-warmed stone of the wall, waiting for her to emerge. When she finally stepped out again, I didn’t have time to move before her eyes locked with mine.

Damn.

I straightened too quickly, too stiff, trying not to look like I’d been following her like some lost hound. Her brows lifted slightly, not in suspicion—never that—but in quiet amusement.

“Mordred,” she greeted, brushing her palms on the front of her skirt. “Come to help, or just lurking?”

I blinked. “Neither. I… was just passing through.”

A half-smile pulled at her lips. “Right. You’ve passed through every route I’ve walked today.”

Caught.

Heat crept to my face faster than I could temper it. “You noticed.”

“I always notice.” Her voice was soft now. Not teasing—gentle. Understanding. “You could walk with me, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure?”

YN tilted her head toward the road. “I have just a few more deliveries. The company would be greatly appreciated. You can even carry the basket.”

I moved beside her, careful to match her pace. When I reached for the basket, our hands touched, and she didn’t pull away.

Neither did I.

The basket was heavier than it looked—laden with small jars, cloth-wrapped parcels, sprigs of dried herbs. I took it gladly. Anything to be of use. Anything to stay near her a little longer.

We walked in step down the dusty lane, the bustle of the market fading behind us. The rhythm of her stride was easy, unhurried, as though time bent a little differently when she moved through the world.

For a while, we didn’t speak. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… comfortable. Like words weren’t needed when the air was warm and the sun played in her hair.

YN broke the quiet first, glancing at me sidelong. “You always watch from a distance. Why is that?”

There was no accusation in her tone. Only curiosity. And kindness. Always kindness.

I shifted my grip on the basket, searching for words that wouldn’t sound foolish. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said simply. Then, after a pause: “But that’s not the real reason.”

She was sharper than most would guess. Sharper than I gave her credit for.

I drew a breath. “I… don’t always know how to be. Not here. Not with…” I trailed off, unable to finish.

Her gaze flicked toward me again, softer now. “With someone who doesn’t wear a sword on their hip or one that does not wield the same power as say of you and Merlin?”

I gave a short laugh. “Perhaps.”

“You don’t always have to play the part of a knight, Mordred,” she said quietly. “Not with me at least.”

Those words settled into something deep inside me—an ache, and a longing I barely understood.

We turned down another path, this one quieter still. The stone cottages gave way to small gardens, trailing vines, and the low hum of bees. Ahead, an old man waited on a bench beneath a crooked tree.

YN called a warm greeting as we neared. I watched her kneel before him, check the wraps at his knees, offer gentle reassurance with a touch to his arm. She left him with a vial of tonic and a promise to return soon.

I could only stand back and marvel. For all my skill with blade and shield, it was her hands that truly healed.

When she rose again, we resumed our walk. This time, her shoulder brushed mine—an easy, familiar thing.

And for once, I let myself hope.

“You asked why I watch,” I said quietly. “It’s because… when I look at you, the world feels lighter. And I forget, for a moment, what I am supposed to be.”

YN stopped. Turned fully to face me. Her eyes, bright as the sky above, searched mine with a look that made it hard to breathe.

“You are you, Mordred,” she said softly. “That’s all you should ever need to be.”

The weight of the basket in my hand was forgotten. The noise of the town faded to nothing.

In that moment, with her standing so close, I wanted—more than anything—to believe her.

[roppongi-division]

Hypnotic Summer (Sextet Squad Ver.)

[Ren:]

In the heart of summer's blaze, melodies rise, a story untold

Through the rhythm of the city, my legacy unfolds

[Max:]

Whispers of the forest, secrets in the light, a silhouette's quest

Chasing the echoes of a presence, in summer's warmth, I never rest

[Kaiji:]

In the glimmer of the spotlight, a mysterious allure behind the fame

A masquerade of glamour, where intentions remain pure and untamed

[Lovesick:]

From Kobe's vibrant streets, our unity resounds

Lovesick's rhythm, a symphony of summer's profound sounds

[Asato:]

In the summer's heat, a silent beat, melons rise to a strange feat

Fields whisper tales, in the sun's detail, where my stoic smile veils a trail

[Yano:]

Glass sculptures catch the summer's fire, reflecting dreams that never tire

Wherever the stars may conspire, in Toyama's embrace, I'll just fly higher!

[Kensaku:]

Summer's green, in lab serene, where life's elixirs are unseen

With a latte's flair, in the nature's care, my research dares

[ECO BooN:]

We're ECO BooN, summer's green in our monsoon

Under the same sun and moon, our lyrics bloom, a natural boon

[Sextet Squad:]

Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah! Oh!

Quash the thoughts running through your mind

It's time for a burning hot show

We're survivors with a sudden burst of motivation

Fire that big flower into the starry sky

And let it bloom just like we planned

Those simpler days

Feel awfully precious now

Dance in the depths of disdain

But trying something new isn't so bad either

[Ace:]

BBQ's glow, football flies, beachside cheers

Summer's liberty, we conquer, with absolutely no frontiers

[Evelyn:]

Beach's calm, sun's embrace, with love, no stress

Okinawa's charm, in summer's dress, we impress!

[Rashaad:]

Bar's alive, cool sips 'neath neon's hum

Summer's patrons find solace, to Eagle's Nest, they come

[Liberty Guild:]

Red, white, and blue, our unity's song

In summer's embrace, Liberty Guild stands strong!

[Akihisa:]

Whiskey on ice, summer's vice, I watch over the crew

In Katsushika's haze, a father's gaze, guiding true

[Touya:]

School's chains break, mischief's wake, with friends I'm free

Summer's spree, we roam, we see, in wild glee!

[Rintaro:]

Summer's heat, I don't skip a beat, I do whatever the fuck I please

Fires catch with ease, in the scorch, that's where I find my peace

[Death Row Block:]

Katsushika's sun, our stories spun, in summer's flame

Death Row Block, we claim our name, in this heated game

[Sextet Squad:]

Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah! Oh!

Quash the thoughts running through your mind

It's time for a burning hot show

We're survivors with a sudden burst of motivation

Fire that big flower into the starry sky

And let it bloom just like we planned

Those simpler days

Feel awfully precious now

Dance in the depths of disdain

Drowning in something new sounds nice

[Ryūnnosuke:]

In the dojo's silence, a tempest stirs, my spirit's alight

Summer's rhythm in my blood, a fire burning bright

[Kyō:]

The beach's heartbeat syncs with mine, a perfect harmony

Summer's sentinel, in the tropical symphony

[Naoki:]

In the embrace of the stage's glow, I weave summer's narrative

A tapestry of emotion, in each performance, I live

[Wild Shīnu:]

We are Wild Shīnu, with Naha's heart in our beat

In the summer's fervor, our fiery lyrics meet!

[Nellie:]

Summer's narrative, in my hands, stories weave and laughter lands

Journalist's ink, family's link, in the sun's narrative, we sync

[Eden:]

Guitar's hum, flirts come, in summer's beat, I strum

Stage's charm, arm in arm, in the heat, I spin yarn

[Kaede:]

Sun's caress, even 'zombies' confess, in the light, my tunes progress

Twilight's dance, a chance, in summer's song, I advance

[Trickstar:]

Hamamatsu's heat, in summer's feat, our lyrics meet

City's tale, in the sun's veil, we sail, in the summer gale

[Sextet Squad:]

Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah! Oh! Yeah! Oh!

Quash the thoughts running through your mind

It's time for a burning hot show

We're survivors with a sudden burst of motivation

Fire that big flower into the starry sky

And let it bloom just like we planned

Those simpler days

Feel awfully precious now

Dance in the depths of disdain

We don't mind trying something new

Oh! Ey! Oh! Oh! Ey! Oh!

Oh! Ey! Oh! Oh! Ey! Oh!

Who needs cheap tricks when you have Hypnosis Mics?

Everything's mixed and shaken in this special take

Who needs cheap tricks when you have Hypnosis Mics?

Everything's mixed and shaken in this special take

Quash the thoughts running through your mind

It's time for a burning hot show

We're survivors with a sudden burst of motivation

Fire that big flower into the starry sky

And let it bloom just like we planned

Those simpler days

Feel awfully precious now

Dance in the depths of disdain

But trying something new isn't so bad either

Ow!

@kobedivision @toyama-division @okinawa-division @katsushika-division @naha-division @hamamatsu-divison

[haddonfieldwhore]

bad dream

summary: geralt has a nightmare

•g/n!reader has traveled with geralt for a while, angsty, mentions of blood and death (dream), very short and not edited

geralt stormed quickly through the halls, desperately searching for you. a simple monster hunt had turned into you being kidnapped by a mage; one who had a bone to pick with the witcher. the mage had been hunting down the creature with the intent of using its remains for elixirs, when your bad luck made your paths cross.

“you killed my sister- now i will take someone you care about from you!” the mage had yelled at the butcher of blaviken, before casting the doors of the room shut and dragging you through the decrepit building. you struggled in her grip, eventually annoying her enough that she knocked your head against the wall, and the world grew dark around you, as you fell unconscious.

geralt went room to room, frantically looking through the old house for where the mage had taken you. his heart raced as he worried what she had- or would do to you. the witcher could pretend that he didn’t need anyone all he wanted but to say that he didn’t care about you would be the biggest lie ever told. in the months you had been travelling together, geralt had grown rather fond of you, despite his best efforts.

•

waking up to the sound of banging on the door, you opened your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. your head throbbing, you stood as geralt broke broke through the door.

“geralt-“ you stepped toward him, and his amber eyes widened in horror as the mage appeared behind you, the dagger in her hand slitting your throat before he could reach you. the mage vanished as your body fell to the ground, blood pouring down your body from the wound in your neck, and as the thud of your body hitting the ground sounded-

“no!” geralt sat up abruptly in bed, chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath. it had been a dream he realized, as he looked around the inn room, to see your sleeping form next to him. usually you and the witcher wouldn’t have shared a bed, but the nights had been cold recently, so the shared body heat was more than welcome. he watched as you stirred in your sleep, having been woken up by his loud voice.

“geralt?” you mumbled sleepily. “what is it?” you asked, sitting up and placing a gentle hand on his broad shoulder. finally slowing his breathing back to its regular slow pace, his irregular heartbeat back to its usual rhythm, he sighed.

“bad dream,” he grumbled, his deep voice, quieter than usual. he fell back onto the pillow, his white hair cascading across the bedding as his eyes closed in relief. he felt too snuggle into his chest, his arm quickly encircling your waist, holding you close to him. still half asleep, you hummed, eyes closed as you listened to the slow beating of his heart.

“don’t worry,” you mumbled. “i’ll protect you.” the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a half smile, but it quickly faded.

“it’s not me i’m worried about-“ he spoke softly, but trailed off at the sound of your gentle snoring, letting him know that you were once again asleep. in that moment geralt realized that if he knew only one thing in this world, it was that what he felt for you was love.

“hmmm.” he hummed, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “goodnight, my fearless protector.”

[dancedance-resolution]

Thinking about Lena and Kara as the best parents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Zora’s finally down,” Kara announces with a whisper, exhaustedly flopping onto her end of the couch. “Ten p.m., and all the kids are unconscious.”

Lena snorts, shifting a bit so she can comfortably curl up on her end. She props herself up with a few rearranged pillows and stretches out until her achy feet rest in Kara’s lap. “God, don’t say it like that.”

“Pretty good for our first time babysitting all four of them though, huh?” Kara counters with a grin. Her hands instinctively move to rub her wife’s swollen feet, sore from an afternoon of chasing around Esme, her new foster sister, and James’s six-year-old twins.

Lena hums, eyes sinking shut as she relaxes under Kara’s touch. “I suppose so.”

“And hey, we learned our lesson—no apple juice squirt guns.”

“No apple juice squirt guns,” Lena sleepily agrees.

“And no using any words found in the ‘Baby Shark’ lexicon during homework time.”

Lena nods solemnly. “Good lord, no more ‘Baby Shark’.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Kara commiserates with an affectionate little giggle. She scooches towards Lena and presses a slow kiss of condolence to her forehead.

“Hand me my wine, darling?”

“Of course.”

Lena accepts the beverage with an exhaled thank you, then brings the glass to her lips and takes a healthy sip of the deep crimson elixir.

Kara must notice her grimace as she swallows the drink, judging by her sympathetic chuckle. “That bad?”

Lena makes an affirmative noise. “Just doesn’t taste the same without alcohol in it.”

Kara leans into her wife’s side, smiles softly when Lena rests her head on her shoulder. “‘s worth it though, right?” She moves her left hand to gently scratch at the base of Lena’s scalp.

“So worth it,” Lena whispers, fighting off her tiredness long enough to open her eyes and gaze up at her wife. Mindlessly, she reaches for Kara’s unoccupied hand, and taking it in hers, places it atop her eight-and-a-half-month bump.

“So worth it.”

- - -

The steady rhythm of Kara’s breath has nearly lulled Lena to sleep when the thought suddenly pops into her brain. “Hey, Kara?” she lazily inquires, audibly drifting off as she speaks.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Did we ever find the apple juice?”

Kara smooths her hand over Lena’s bump in soothing circles, yawning as she snuggles impossibly closer to her cuddly wife. She drowsily half-ponders the question for a few moments before letting out a sleepy hum. “We’re gonna be the best parents.”

[consider dropping a comment on ao3 if you enjoyed bc i crave validation <3]

[a-cupof-jo]

Dyspnea

Parings: Potion Master!Jaehyun X Medicinal Herbalist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Intended Angst, Magic!au

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: magic inaccuracies, food mentioned, tiny bit suggestive

For @ficscafe fic scenario event! 

Summary:  The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple, but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Prompt: 38. When they test out a love potion on their partner.

~~

It wasn’t fair that so many people get to enjoy this day while he is stuck behind the shuttered windows  dark shadows. He doesn’t hate this day. How could he? It was Valentine's day- and his birthday but that never mattered. Not to the everyday people who slip through his door hours before this day begins. He can’t blame them. For they came in search of something only he can provide. 

Love.

Or at least some figment of love. For some it was a way to prove their love. Others used it to try and get their long time crush to like them back. Jaehyun can’t help but laugh every time a young teenager pushes open the door to his shop for the nth time that week saying that they wanted to test this “love potion” on another person. Of course he doesn’t give them a full love potion. Just something diluted down closer to an addictive, like honey. It barely lasts 15 minutes. 

He hears a bell chime from the other room. Whipping his hands on his apron he walks through the separating doorway. “I’m sorry,” he glances toward a cracked window that no longer had sunlight gleaming through it. “I am actually closed.” 

“Oh,” a man just shorter than Jaehyun stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll just come back tomorrow.” He bit his lip lightly glancing around the room.

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun waved his hand. “You are already here. Might as well make good of the trip. Besides. I don’t mind.” He grinned at the man, trying to ease the tension that laced through the newcomers face.

The man sighed before stepping closer, “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Jaehyun gave a light laugh. “Gives me something better to do than stir pots,” he watched the man warily as the sentence left his lips. “Magical beings” were still a wary subject for some people even if they had been able to practice in the open for nearly 50 years now. When the man just gave him a small smile Jaehyun stepped behind the counter that held his potions and elixirs. “What can I help you find today Mr…”

“Oh, Lee. But just call me Taeyong,” he waved his hand around peering through the glass at the display. “Well here’s my situation.” He glanced up at Jaehyun. “I have a date coming up and my date said there is this potion that allowed a person to change their hair color just by drinking it,” Taeyong looked amazed as he stared up at Jaehyun. “I wanted to try it out for our next date. That, and I’m not sure how much more bleaching my scalp can go through.” He combed his hand through his hair giving it a light tug at the bangs afterwards. 

Jaehyun grimaced as he watched the straw like strands fall back into place, “Well you’re where you need to be. I have a lot of potions for that.” He moved down the row to where a shelf full of colorful bottles filled every inch. “There’s all of these, plus I can also create other colors if you don’t see one you like here.”

Taeyong peered back through the glass eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around the box a few times. "What about white?" He rested a hand over a bottle he assumed to hold the potion. 

Jaehyun grinned, "One of my best sellers." Reaching for a little black jar Jaehyun scan the man. He would obviously look good with white hair. He probably looks good with any color of hair. "You just want to try the white?" 

Taeyong hummed a second glancing toward the moonlit window, "Yes, just the white." 

Jaehyun set the bottle is a small leather pouch, "2 shillings." The coins clinked as rested on the counter. "Enjoy! Have a good night." He watched the thin man walk through the door and past the window before latching the door shut. Taeyong had been pleasant and kind but Jaehyun couldn't help but be slightly peeved with the man. Unlatching the door he peeked his head out; he glanced to his left and, yes, there was still the sign with hours stating 'Dawn to Dusk' hanging off the building. 

The moon was bright tonight and he couldn’t help but stare at it. How could it be that a ball of rock could bring him such peace. Maybe it was just the ambiance, but a little part of him wants to believe that there's a little man that lives on that moon and watches over the earth. It might seem ridiculous, but he could brew color changing elixirs and make people fall in love, so it couldn’t be that far fetched. 

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Jaehyun jumped lightly as arms wrapped around him from behind. He sighed as you placed your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. I got stuck talking to Johnny at the market.” Your finger traced little patterns on his stomach as you both stood in the dimly lit doorway. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” You pulled at his arm. Jaehyun closed his eyes taking a deep breath of clear night air before turning and giving you a soft smile. “I may have something for you. You know, considering it is valentines day.” 

“Only because it’s valentines day,” He raised an eyebrow at you as you glided through the small store. 

You were once an enigma to him. Someone he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch. Your brother, adoptive brother, Johnny was Jaehyun’s best friend growing up. You were the aloof younger sister that Jaehyun hardly knew about until you made it to your apprenticeship. For as long as Jaehyun had known you, you’d have always been enamored by plants and flowers. So, when he found out you were studying herbal medicine, he wasn’t surprised. 

“Of course, what other day would it be,” you gave him a small smile as you stood near the pot Jaehyun had previously been working at.

Jaehyun's relationship with you had been moments of fleeting looks, paths crossing, and unspoken rules. Two lives bending and swaying, following the same path, but never touching. Until you broke the pattern, you veered off course.

He had just finished his apprenticeship with the, now retired, potions master Kim. Mr. Kim had taken Jaehyun in from a young age, raising him when Jaehyun’s parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with someone containing magical properties. Johnny had planned a small party congratulating Jaehyun on his success. He didn’t know you were going to be there. Even if you were Johnny’s sibling you never showed anything but indifference to Jaehyun. Music had played from a small group of boys too loud for the space they were in. 

You had sauntered over, a small flute of champagne dangling from your fingertips. "Can you do it?" Jaehyun had been surprised by your bluntness. "Take over for Kim. There's gonna be a lot of pressure," you noted, not unkindly. 

"There will be, but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me take over if he didn't have at least some confidence in my abilities," he swiped the glass from your hand and swallowed down the contents. "Besides, he's still going to be around. He hasn't cut me loose yet." 

You grabbed his hand in yours and tugged him towards the outskirts of dancing people, "A dance?" You didn't wait for a response as you twirled him closer to the center of the floor. 

Jaehyun was not surprised at your fluid movements. Johnny had always bragged about how his sister was a natural dancer and the best in their city, perhaps the world. He smiled at you now sharing Johnny's sentiments. You gave him a small grin in return as the music died, "You're going to be great."

A whoop went up from one of the musicians, Donghyuck, Jaehyun's brain supplied. Your grin grew as you raised your voice in a louder whoop. Jaehyun watched as the sentimental atmosphere changed. You grabbed his hands leading him to a lively dance, "Beside, you can't fail, not when I'm just a few doors down." 

"You mean cause Ms. Joy is a few doors down," Jaehyun teasing corrected. 

You shake your head at him, "I'll be a few doors down." 

You were, and a line that you didn't know existed between you both was crossed. Jaehyun wasn't sure who started the late night rendezvous or the unspoken pact of always standing by each other, but turned into late night talks which turned into early morning coffee, and later, shared lunches. 

You guys fell into a rhythm, a three year rhythm that morphed into passing kisses, soft hugs, mornings of gentle coaxing and nights of soft loving. 

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you glancing into the pot full of a clear liquid, thicker than water and smelled of sweet syrup, "Busy?" 

You spun to face him shaking your head as you fixed the collar of his shirt, "Everyone was too busy being in love to be worried about visiting me.” 

“Ah, the prettiest healer on the street doesn’t have love on this day,” Jaehyun furrowed his brow. “I knew this would happen. You would leave me because I have given love to everyone but you.”

You gave him a light giggle kissing the corner of his mouth, “I would never leave you.” You spin out of his arms walking further towards the house that sat behind the shop. “You are my soulmate,” you gave Jaehyun a look full of adoration and love.

Jaehyun was sure that his face read the same, “My perfect half.” 

You motioned for him to follow you, “Come, I made something for you.”

“Made something for me,” Jaehyun stepped into the small living areas entryway. “What is the occasion?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” you had shrugged, pulling a large dutch oven out of the convection oven. You turned and furrowed your brows at him, “and I think there’s something else going on today. Any idea what that is?” 

Jaehyun shrugged, “None that I can think of.” 

“Hmm,” you opened the lid letting more of the aroma fill the room. Your mouth popped open in  mock surprise, “Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday.” You placed vegetables on the table before scooping up some hot soup. You widen your eyes at him, humor dancing through them, “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Especially because I got you something special.” 

“Something special?” Jaehyun placed cups on the small table as you set down the plates. “Where is it?” 

You grinned and leaned in close to his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find.” You laughed as Jaehyun let out a choked breath and scanned you up and down. “Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need all of your energy.” 

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jaehyun gave an astonished laugh grinning as you sat across from him placing a small cupcake in front of him. 

The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

~~

Jaehyun hummed under his breath as the sun shone through his shop's open windows. Spring was just around the corner and Jaehyun’s happy mood couldn’t be dimmed. Warm bright weather brought in more customers. More customers meant that he was busier, and brought in more revenue, but mostly he was busier. That was one reason Jaehyun loved his job. He was working with his hands all day. There was never a moment where he was bored. 

He watched as a little boy walked between the two aisles the shop held. It wasn’t much, but the little trinkets and common potions that lined the shelves made Jaehyun proud of how far he had come. He could still picture the small store from when he was around the young boy's age. Laughter sounded through the store as the boy tried to escape his mother's hands. "Have a good day!" Jaehyun watched the giggling pair walk out the front door. Turning to the backroom he sighed looking at the pot that sat there.

The weeks he had spent trying to develop a new love potion was wasted as he, once again, failed. Since before Valentines day, now nearly 2 weeks ago, he had been cooped up in that backroom, trying to find a better love concoction. You, while fully willing, were starting to become an annoyed test subject. Jaehyun couldn't help but get testy when you complained about the new love potion. If you were gonna tell him it wasn't good or right then maybe you could give some ideas on how to fix it. Maybe he just needs to find a new test subject. Jaehyun looked through the list of love potions and ingredients that he had already used. Too many, he scowled down at the pages and pages of notes he had made on each variety of potion he had made. 

"Hello," he heard the little bell connected to the front door ring and someone walked around the shop, obviously looking for him. 

Jaehyun sighed, rolled his shoulders back and tried to put on his best smile, "Hi, what can I help you with- Oh Taeyong. Hello." Jaehyun scanned the man in front of him. "The white looks good."

Taeyong reached up and ran a hand through his bright white hair, "Thanks. I love it and so did my date." He tapped his index fingers together as he walked back up to the counter full of the colored potions. "I wanted to try more." 

Jaehyun smiled as the man scanned the rows, "We've plenty to choose from." 

Taeyong narrowed his eyes, concentrating on different colors. He eyes flickered up and met Jaehyun's, "I can't decide. What do you think? What would look good?" 

"He looks great in pink," a hand wrapped around his bicep. "He knows it too, but not many can pull it off well. You might be able to," Jaehyun grinned at you. While you were right about pink being a difficult color to pull off, you knew more than that, the pink dye was the hardest one to make. Which is why when Jaehyun glanced down at the box, he saw only 2 pink vials while the others had at least 10. "What about red? Maybe a green?" 

Taeyong watched the two of you share another quick look. Clearing his throat slightly he looked down in the box again.  "Red and green," he nodded his head. "Yes, I think I'll try those. One of each, please." 

Jaehyun grabbed the two vials and placed them both in a leather patch that you held open, "Okay, 4 shillings." Taeyong placed the coins in Jaehyun's hand. "Have a good day!" 

"You too," Taeyong gave a half hearted wave. 

Jaehyun sighed as your arms wrapped fully around him, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his face, your eyes fluted around looking for an answer. 

“I still can’t get this potion right,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. Jaehyun felt you press closer to you, your hands started running up and down his sides. “I want something different, something that shows who you are supposed to love, but how are you supposed to know that.”

“Soulmates.” Jaehyun startled as the voice rang through the shop. He turned to glare at the man who had made him jump, “Sorry.” Taeyong raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to intrude or overstay my welcome, but I can’t help but be fascinated by all of this. And also you can’t really-”

“It’s fine,” your arms dropped away from Jaehyun. You finger tapped your chin as you considered Taeyong words, “Soulmates… that may work, but, how could you put something like a soulmate indicator in a love potion.”

Jaehyun tapped his hands on the counter. Soulmates, while not nonexistent, hadn’t been thought about in decades. In fact, Jaehyun didn't know the first thing about finding soulmates or even if he believed in them. It’s not not very plausible, he can’t just give someone a potion and tell them that it will give them their soulmate. There's more to it than that. More to love and being in love then just having souls destined to be together, "I can't do that." He shakes his head at the two who had continued to excitedly discuss the topic. He watched as their faces morphed to disbelief and disappointment. 

Your hands came up to rest on your hips, "And why not." 

Jaehyun reached into the glass cabinet rearranging vials and avoiding eye contact, "There's no way I can reveal soulmates. Too many indicators and no defiant way to squeeze all of those into one potion. Soulmates and their indicators have been hidden for years and it's rare that people ever find or want to be with their soulmate. Besides, there are too many variables." 

"Too many variables," you gave a light scoff. 

"What if you didn't give them a way to instantly reveal their soulmate," Taeyong cut in. "What if, instead, you revealed soulmate indicators or made them stronger." 

"What do you mean," Jaehyun sighed. He knew they weren't going to give this up. The hope and excitement in their eyes made Jaehyun more hesitant to even consider creating this potion. 

Taeyong walked closer to the counter where Jaehyun and you stood. “Soulmates, they are predestined, we can’t control or decide who they are or how we get paired. Now, many of us don’t meet our soulmates, the bonds aren’t as strong and people can find people they truly love. What if you strengthen the bonds? Revealed them?” Taeyong lifted his hand wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I think I feel a tug on my hand, especially when I am at home alone. I can’t help but wonder if, hope, it’s my soulmate.”

You watched him, an unfamiliar look in your eyes. Slowly you turned to Jaehyun and grabbed his right hand in both of yours, “Please Jaehyun, you can do this, we can do this. Help others find their soulmate, their perfect half.” Your eyes pleaded with him.

 It really wasn’t fair. You knew that he would do anything for you, and you used that against him. Jaehyun sighed, “Okay, I’ll try. If you think this will work I’m willing to work on it.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face as you gave him a hug cheering along with Taeyong. He watched as you danced around the room bidding goodbye as you ran back to work. Taeyong also raced out of the shop, saying something about a ruby and some fish. As he watched the door swing shut the smile dropped his face. He couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach and the distinct feeling that this would not end well. 

~~

Jaehyun stirred the sweet smelling syrup again. This was his fifth attempt at this potion. By this point he was frustrated. Nothing was working, all he kept making were diluted love potions, potions that made eyes change colors when they saw their loved ones, and a potion that made your heart glow from inside your chest. Both you and Jaehyun had been disturbed by the last potion. He had spent two weeks trying to figure this out. Both Taeyong and you had been helping when and where you could. You would get herbs and plants of magical origins, guiding and helping with the new ones that Jaehyun hadn’t seen before. Whereas, Taeyong would stir the potions or gather, obscure, ingredients- fairy dust, dwarf warts, pegasus hoof shavings. While impressive, Jaehyun was too scared to ask Taeyong how he got all real, authentic these ingredients or knew about all of these ingredients. As far as Jaehyun knew, Taeyong wasn’t a magic user. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he descended from fairies or mermaids. 

He sighed as the potion bubbled the mugwort he just dropped in hissed as it blended, “Make a potion, they said. It will help people, they said.” He pulled out another vial. He had it simply labeled “love”. A base potion that he used when creating all his love potions, but this wasn’t a love potion, not truly. People don’t fall in love because of it, they may not even be able to find love because of it. With that thought in mind he set the base potion down and pulled out a different potion. It’s more medicinal, healing than anything else. It was the first potion that you and Jaehyun had made together. A potion that could heal a bond. Chi bonds specifically. Maybe it would work. If he broke it down to its core parts and mixed it with the current love potion or maybe the one that made your heart glow just a few nights ago.

Jaehyun jumped from his seat racing around the room grabbing ingredients and writing down ratios and doses. The smell of linens and irises filled the room. Jaehyun could help but feel comfort from the two smells. It smelled like you. Like a warm day under the sun laying in the little meadow sitting on the outskirts of town. 

“It smells so good here,” Jaehyun looked up as you entered the room. You closed your eyes inhaling a deep breath. “Like just after it rains and…” you took another deep breath, “and roses.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. That was interesting. The scent was different to everyone. Maybe it was a comforting scent or the scent of your beloved. It may have worked this time. Jaehyun stirred the pot a few more times before turning off the heat, “I just need to let it cool now.” 

You walked closer to him peering down into the now pale yellow potion, “You think it worked this time?” 

Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your waist. He shrugged, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, “Maybe. I tried something different this time. It may do the trick.”

You hummed as he swayed you both back and forth, “That’s good. I’m really glad that you decided to make this. Soulmates were intended to be together, to have each other and we’ve moved so far from that.” You reached up and played with his hair twirling it between your fingers a few times, “I know that it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know, to confirm what I know, you’re my soulmate.”

Jaehyun was so in love with you. So ready to spend the rest of his days with you. He took another deep breath, linens and irises, “My better half.” He kissed under your ear before moving to grab a ladle from beside the pot, “Would you like to ladle or hold the bottles.” You grabbed the ladle from him motioning to move closer to the pot. “Would you like to know what I used this time? What the heart of this potion?” He watched you nod your head urging him to continue, “Our first potion.” Your head shot up surprise lighting up every feature. Jaehyun laughed, “I still remember you rushing in here and demanding I help you. You had never had to make a medicinal potion for a chi before. I hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop us from trying. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe it was fate because that day I feel deeply and madly in love with you. You unlocked my ability to love.” 

You stood still. Face slack jawed but eyes full of love, “You’re such a dork.” Jaehyun couldn’t say anything before you were in his arms, lips on his, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Jaehyun grinned at you, pulling further away from you. He looked over at the now empty pot. “Now, rock, paper, scissors for who has to drink the potion.” He held his hand up in a fist.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Rock, paper, scissors.” You sighed as he held up scissors motioning to cut through your paper. “Fine,” you picked up the small vial tilting it in a small cheers before drinking the liquid inside. 

Jaehyun waited, the air tense around the two of you. A bell rang, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. A small red string pulled at your previously bare pinkie, “Hey guys! What’s going on. It smells so good here, like fresh linen and Irises. Are you guys back he- oh.” The string led past Jaehyun and tugged tight where Taeyong stood, his hand lifted in surprise.

~~

Tag List: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

[tsunagite]

(Takes place in game parody au(?))

It’s tough having a ridiculously reckless teammate.

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Authors Notes ♡: WHEW I LOVED THIS I had a time trying to come up with an idea and then it hit me : a princess being saved by fantasy au! Dabi. I’m still nervous with my smuts but heh I enjoyed this a whole bunch to write . Dabi is my favorite villain and I just love him so much, I tried to make him a soft inside and hard outside man in this , I Had fun for our free for all collab and I hope I help give it just a fun twist to fantasy and Halloween spirit ~ I hope you enjoy reading this and much as I did writing it ~ bunny ❥

Warnings :UH NSFW! Demon dabi has two dick (and their thick) , pet names, unprotected sex , a tad bit of a size kink? , a bit fluffy at the end but I think that’s it!

Word count : about 2k give or take!

Paring(s) :Dabi x F! Reader

Even with this being NSFW I had to make it a soft fluffy ending I’m sorry ♡

———————————————————————

Enchanted flames

Dabi

“If you have found this letter the Princess of Yuei needs your help. Meet me in the Enchanted Woods tomorrow night. Ill escape with you if you can save me from the proposed wedding - Princess [ ]”

With a sigh [. ] dropped the letter out of her window hoping someone, anyone , could save her from the doom that awaited her from an arranged marriage that had been planned from her kingdom to be to the neighboring ones prince, a smaller and very...purple hot headed boy by the name of Mineta who was unsavory for a lack of words. Sighing as she watched the paper fall she secretly wished her type of prince would come save her from this hell she expected.

As the night approached she slipped past her guards, telling them she was going out for air in her garden. The two towering men who looked down at her agreed, moving at the way to let the young woman past them and out into the halls, her dress dragging behind her as she headed out the giant doors to her garden. Taking in a breath she climbed over the perfectly managed hedges andddd off into the forest adjacent to the castle, roaming through the woods to her chosen spot to hopefully meet someone who could save her.

“Hello there little sheep, you called for help, correct?” A low, raspy voice called out as [ ] turned around , looking into the dark abyss in front of her. “ Hello? Helloooo? Who's there?” the girl called out as she heard something heavy land behind her. Turning to her right she saw bright blue eyes look back at her from the shadows. Before she could react a rather warm hand covered her mouth as the person or thing dragged her throughout the woods , the two of them slipping into the night. As soon as [ ] woke up her eyes adjusted to a dark but brightly lit and beautiful chasm, cyan and turquoise crystals of all types surrounded the room as she felt intense heat from everywhere around her. Standing up on shaky legs she felt eyes on her from behind. Letting out a deep breath she turned only to run into a barely covered chest.

Looking up from the revealed purple and pale skin , she saw those same blue eyes , lit with curiosity. “Ah you're awake..welcome little sheep to my...well..living quarters” The mystery man spoke as [ ] blinked at him, a grin spreading over his face as he continued to speak “Well i guess the princess doesnt know she isn't in her little castle anymore. Haven't those guards of yours realized they can't leave royalty alone or guys like me come along and take them out of their cute little homes” He said as [ ] gave him a suspicious look , her own thoughts taking over her face as a sense of calm rested over her features “Ohhh so you're the one who found my note..” She said as he gave her an unreadable look , soon walking away to leave the girl in her own world. “I guess he did” she thought to herself as she heard the male come back, a pile of things in his hands. “Here; a change of clothes and something to eat. I tried to be gentle taking you out of those dreaded castle grounds and through the woods but your dress isnt the smallest thing in the world” he said as [ ] let out a giggle , picking up the dark shirt and skirt he had given her along with the meal : some type of rice and meat with soup. Before she could ask the man answered “No i didnt steal it, i told you this is my home , its only natural id have something in this god forsaken place to eat.” He said as he pointed down the cave. “Theres a waterfall ahead if youd like to freshen up there.” And with that [ ] walked down the empty carved walls, finding the waterfall he was talking about.

Once she was finished getting cleaned and dressed she headed back the way she went, seeing the male now cloaked in a dark cape , fiddling with a pile of wood before setting it ablaze with a bright blue flame. “Ah i see you're finished , ILl be heading out , i'm gonna find us some more wood so you don't get cold. Theres a pot over there where you can reheat your food and get more if you like.” As he finished he proceeded to get up and head down another pathway, presumingly to the opening of the chasm “Wait!” [ ] called out as he stopped, turning to the girl with a questioning look back at her. “Yes princess?” he responded to her as she felt a unnatural wave of heat spreading to her face from simply calling her by her actual title. “What can I call you? And how long will you be gone?” She questioned. “Aw are you worried about me?” He cooed as she puffed out her cheeks “I was just curious” She lashed back as the male in front of her laughed , giving her a crooked smile. “ The names Dabi, and i won't be gone too long, an hour or so” Dabi said, giving her a smile as he started to leave again.

“Oh yeah , and there's a spare jacket in the back if you get too cold or that fire goes out.” and with that he left [ ] by herself as she finished up the dinner he had made which was exceptionally good, even better than what she tended to have at the castle. While she waited around for dabi to come back , [ ] looked at her royal dress, the red and pinks making her want to revolt as she pushed the fluffy tooled pile up into a blanket of sorts, covering her legs as she sat there thinking about her predicament “I really ran away...but what else can you do when youre gonna be married off to someone years older than you for land and alliance” she thought with a sigh as footsteps came from behind her , Dabi pulling his hood from his head as he smiled to himself at the girl in front of him “Im back princess” He declared as she turned to him, giving him a small smile as she stood up, dusting off her dress , coming up to Dabi “So...whatcha find?” She started as he pulled the bag from behind him , dumping out different goodies for the two of them. An array of food, wood and fresh buckets for water collections. “Here, this is for you too” Dabi said as he passed her a well woven balck dress, better than the two piece he had first given her. Taking in a deep breath he spoke up “I didn't want you to struggle with rags , so i got you something a little more comfortable and well...suitable for a run away princess” and with that she looked up to him and giggled which was heaven to his ears. ‘Why thank you Dabi..i'm flattered” [ ] said as she took the black dress , running to a hidden corner to change as Dabi smirked “Oh boy..what have i signed myself up for”

Weeks later and multiple posters for the lost princess later, [ ] had a rhythm living with Dabi. They cooked together and he left out to get things from shops ans out in the woods. Word spread that the princess had been stolen and the ugly grape himself had put a reward out for her safe return. Unknown to everyone she was quite content with the dark demon mage Dabi and his home in the woods. He explained the chasm as his work space, a place he could hone in on working with his flames and different elixirs that people needed. He was a half breed of human and demon, his father ridding of him to hide his affair with an otherworldly being, to keep the peace of his people and the overworld people as well. He really wasn’t a bad man, just someone who stayed in the shadows and kept to himself. And [. ] ‘s heart went out to him, as his did out to hers as she explained her own situation. ”Well damn sweetheart at least i saved you hm?” Dabi said as the two of them laughed together about their lives and what they'd like to change.

As the night drew on and they had their fair share of drinks and food that night “Thank you Dabi..for everything” [ ] said randomly as they relaxed by the fire he had started , [ ] wrapped into the oversized fur Dabi made her as the male laid against a log watching the tired girl mumble to him. She gave him a sleepy smile once he put his warmed hand on her face. “You're cute yknow...i'm not gonna let anyone get to you okay?” He said as she shook her head, moving herself closer to him , laying her head on his lap as he rubbed her head until she fell asleep, him soon realizing he was in love with the rogue princess in his lap.

As the next month rolled around , the princess and her demon mage had started a loving relationship, the two of them growing fonder and fonder of eachother. [ ] noticed that Dabi had tried avoiding being around her when she was fresh from the shower or even roaming too close behind her, he even took more time to come home with more ingredients or even sleep opposite to her. She didn't understand the switch from wanting to hold and hug her to avoiding her all day. One day she was able to catch and trap him with her. “Yes princess…?” Dabi ased as [ ] crossed her arms around her chest , the simple movement making him turn from her. “Did I..do something…?” She asked, her eyes bouncing between his as the turquoise she learned to love ignited with heat.

”Oh no doll...you haven't done a thing but make me want you even more..”

And with that comment her eyes widened. “What..?” She questioned. And with that Dabi picked the smaller girl up, pinning her to a crystal wall as she gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.”Dabi…….?” [ ] called out as he started to kiss her neck ,running his rougher hands up the soft flesh of her thighs. “I think i'm in love with you doll..youve been invading my head or a while and all i can think about is making your cute little body want me the burning way i want you...I wanna make you cry out for me all night long...make you mines forever.....is that okay?” He whispered in her ear. With a shudder she agreed , letting him kiss the swells of her brest as he gave her a lopsided smile, picking her up and taking her to a pile of pelts and wool they made into a bedroom to rest in. Placing her down lightly he towered her , taking off his vest to reveal his toned and scarred body “Youre quite a beauty yknow...im glad you trust me…” He said with a smile as [ ] herself smashed her lips against his, cutting off his mushy talk. With a groan he pushed her dress up , letting her breast bounce out from the top. Pulling away from the kiss she helped him take off the dress over her head. With a shy smile [ ] covered ehrslf and laid back, spreading her legs lightly to expose her glistening lips to him

“Well damn, i havent even toughed you yet and youre this wet..what a little slut you are”

He growled out as he leaned back over to give her a kiss , pulling her lower lip as he licke dhis was down between her legs, giving her clit a hard suck as she whinned , closing her legs over his head as he slurped away at her pussy, making sure to watch her through hooded eyes, a tail whipping from behind him as a pair of horns appeared from atop his head, one mangled and cracked the other long and curled “Surprise” Dabi called out as his voice dropped octaves, it coming out as a low rumble as [ ] felt her walls clench at the sound , a chuckle coming from him. Going back to slurping and sucking on her labia and clit , Dabi watch with glee as the gilr under him started to shake, her hips rolling back to his mouth as he bit lightly down on her lips and pulled away from her , laughing at her pleas and whimpers “Turn sound baby and let me show you how much i love you” Dabi said , watching as [ ] rolled over arching her hips back as he smacked her ass, loving the moan she let out. Pulling down his pants he pulled his throbbing member out, rubbing it hard against her clit as she felt her heart jumped at the feeling of how thick he was. All of a sudden she felt hands pull her cheeks apart as a finger rub around the tight rings of her ass. With a gasp she looked back to see not one but two swinging dicks between the burning up male, a feral look in his eyes as he let a low rumble come from his chest “ Sorry babygirl..when I change there's more than just one of me to deal with, i promise i'll be gentle” He said as he rubbed her tight muscles just loose enough to put in the tip, her lower lips drooling as he slid his true size into her throbbing walls, moans and grunts tearing through the chasm as he pulled his hips back , starting to set a rhythm to his hips. While he picked up the pace, [ ] felt herself being full as the two dicks of his stuffed her. She could help the feeling of her walls getting tighter as she came once then twice and not once did Dabi stop, he laughed as he gave her more and more , pushing himself deeper in her as he let out what sounded like a howl of pain as he doubled in pace, reaching down to rub her clit as she screamed, soon feeling a hot and warm gooey feeling flood her senses. Dabi slowed his hips down as he pulled himself from her ass first, then from her pussy and cum started to leak from her holes.

“Shit...im sorry princess I didnt mean to go so rough…” Dabi breathed out as [ ] turned around giving him hr own lopsided smile as she saw him transform backto himself, those turquoise eyes softening as he saw the woman he had fallen for spent out from his own actions. “Geez when you said you were a demon i didnt think it was true…” She laughed as he scratched th back of his neck “Ive never transformed like this around someone….especially during sex but that means I trust you a lot….well doll..let me clean you up and then...we can go fro round two hm?” He smirked as he watched her pussy clench and relase more cum once he said that. “Mhm...clean me Dabi then we can have some more fun..”

[djohnhopper]

NEW FICTION: The circle, part 3. This is an ongoing piece of fiction. It's an experiment. There is no plan, no real idea of what is coming next, its just written at the moment, so even I don't know where it is going. Part 1 and 2 can be found at: https://johnhopperwriter.blogspot.com/ - part 3 is below.

The circle, part 3. The fat crow circled above him slowly, his glasses flashing regularly in the clenched beak of the bird. He could think of a number of things he'd like to do to the bird, but few that he could. There was a way perhaps, but... He glanced towards the periphery of the circle. Whatever was coming was now so near that he could practically taste them, and it wasn't ripe fruit and honey, it was bad blood and rank gristle. Shit! He raised his eyes once more to the drifting bird, as if it was taunting him. The sigil at the base of his thumb itched in answer to the taunt, and he allowed it. It was this or nothing. Unchecked, the itch quickly spread - across his fingers, deep into his palm. A thump started, matching his pulse, but heavier, and with purpose, the purpose was the crow above him.

He didn't let his eyes drift for a second from the circling bird, even though he knew that everything would change around him within moments. He had to have his glasses. It was a short-term obsession, but he needed his eyes, needed the focus that his corrective glasses would give him. He knew it was a handicap, crap vision, but he'd lasted this long, he would last longer, if he could just get the damned glasses back.

His hand began to seize, the ligaments shorten and thicken, as his fingers curled in on themselves, forming an involuntary fist. His whole hand now throbbed, pulsed with a single purpose, a fist with a guttural need - to strike, and it did. Without his own awareness, he shot out his arm, sending it high into the morning sky, his fist punching into thin air, but dragging along with it a primal urge to hit the dark, fat bird circling him, and to hit it hard. He missed. Tried again, and missed once more. The third time he felt contact, his pulsing fist colliding with the oily feathers of the crow. The bird fluttered, sending its wings into awkward angles, its clawed feet furiously trying to fend away a stroke from nothing, to defend itself from thin air.

He watched intently as the bird tried to right itself, so he hit it once again with his fist. The bird knew by instinct that it was headed for freefall. It was the glasses or flight. It chose wisely, dropped the glasses and flew off into the morning sun with a fury that would be paid back in kind at some point, of that he was certain. But the glasses, seeming to fall in slow motion, tumbled over and over, the suns refection flashing with a regular rhythm that seemed to match the slowing pulse of his hand, a fist no longer.

His glasses landed gently in front of him, creating little or no impact as they settled into the white dust. He dived into the dirt, spread-eagled. He grabbed hold of his glasses as if they were a long lost elixir of life, which in a way they were. They were his eyes, and he damn well needed them now of all times. He quickly examined frames and lenses - both intact. The frames were a little bent, but they were all there. He stuck them onto his face. Everything shot into focus, and he was ready.

He was just in time. he shifted his gaze towards the source of the mumbled, disjointed song. The trees parted, the undergrowth curled into itself, creating an opening where there had been none, and in that space stepped the creature.

She was an old woman, cascading peppered hair swept past her shoulders. She was short, skinny, wore nothing but swirls of brambles, wound about her - brutal thorns punctured and scraped across her emaciated body, leaving lethal looking raised welts, glistening with blood, that almost seemed, along with the brambles, to be part of her costume. Bramble woman, he couldn't help naming her, but he instantly regretted it the moment she captured his restored vision. She looked demented - half here, half somewhere else - he knew what that felt like. But her eyes, that was her strength, her passion, her power. They swarmed with creatures, tiny creatures - sharp, angry, hungry flies, bloated and evil. Every time she blinked, a new swathe of flies flew out of her, while more filled the void of the new departed, forming a rhythm, a cycle of nature that wasn't, couldn't be real.

The song was still with her, still mumbled and distorted, as she slowly made her way towards him, swaying across the white dusted circle, as if in a half-remembered ambling dance that only she knew. But it was more than that. She moved slowly and painfully, the bramble thorns eating into her body on all sides as she moved. And as she got closer to him, clouds of flies from her eyes began to circle him, looking for something new, and something old. They were looking for death, new death, and felt that they had found it - in him.

[princess-of-riviaa]

Anatomy Lessons

Anonymous said: How about: "and then I'll indulge your curiosity all night long" with Geralt and a herbalist he met whilst preparing his potions for a contract. Said herbalist had only heard about a witcher's stamina but did never have the pleasure of encountering a witcher herself. Or Geralt's first time? I feel like I only ever hear about him being so good in bed, but being subjected to the trials as a child, he must have lost his virginity after he had become a witcher. How would his first time be like?

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warning(s): not edited, possibly several grammar mistakes; virgin!Geralt, experienced! reader, fingering, riding, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 3k

“I’m curious about the strength of a witcher,” you say, your curiosity purely innocent. Your scientific brain never stops wondering, never ceases to be curious about anything and everything.

Geralt stops walking beside you and gives you his classic flirty smirk. “I can indulge your curiosity all night long, if you’d like.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. When Geralt completed his Witcher Trials, your were assigned to him as his personal herbalist. You were meant to watch over him for his first year of monster hunting and keep him alive, whether that meant stitching up wounds or shoving one of his elixirs down his throat. You’ve already spent two months with him wandering up and down the coast, searching for any town with a monster problem, and in that time you two have gotten close. Not exactly friends, but more than mere traveling companions. Geralt has resorted to practicing most of his pickup lines on you, since you’re the only woman that’s stuck with him for the next nine months. And you’ve allowed it, since you do have a bit of an attraction for the witcher. But he’s never done anything more than flirt.

You jut your chin out at him, a dare. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

He pauses, surprised. Normally you respond to his flirty comments with a laugh or a roll of your eyes. You never indulge him, and you never encourage him. So this response makes him give you a double take. But once he sees that you’re being serious, not just flirting back purely to play along, he pounces. He’s still adjusting to his witcher abilities, so he accidentally moves too fast and tackles you the ground. You grunt in pain as your back collides with the ground. You’re fortunate that you’re in a grassy field and not a rocky mountainside.

Geralt hovers over you, one arm on either side of your head. “Sorry, Y/N. Are you hurt?”

You do your best to refrain from wincing as the pain registers all throughout your back. “It’s fine.”

His hand moves to your back, trying to find the source of the pain. His large arm wrapped around you makes you feel so small as your bodies press together. The silence is suddenly deafening as the air around you grows warm with tension. Both of your gazes travel to each other’s mouths.

“Geralt,” you whisper. It’s an invitation.

He kisses you. Your heart races in your chest at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours, but the kiss is so bad it almost ruins the mood.

You pull back. “Have you ever kissed a woman?”

His silence is answer enough, though the redness in his cheeks give it away just as much.

You bring your hand up to his neck, your fingers softly running through the roots of his white hair. “Part your lips and don’t make it so rough. You’re not trying to eat me. Just try it more gently.”

He nods before kissing you again. This time his mouth is open too wide, his entire tongue licking along your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss.

“Close your mouth a little bit,” you say, surprised to hear your breathing growing faint. The taste of him soaks onto your tongue and warms your body.

He listens and tries again. This time the kiss is good. So good it’s addicting. You push your tongue against his lips, a mere kitten lick, and he somehow knows to open his mouth farther for your tongue to move inside. His tongue is stiff and still when you first brush yours against it. You move against him, showing him how to twirl his tongue with your own. The longer you two lie there kissing, the more confident he becomes until he’s pushing his tongue back into your mouth. You reward his good moves with a soft moan. Every time he does something you don’t like, you squeeze his hair in your hand until he relents. A few minutes pass like this, the two of your mouths colliding with heated lust and desperation, and then you feel him begin to grind against you. He’s already fully hard in his pants. You gasp when you feel the full length of his erection grind into your stomach.

He pulls back with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

You just grab his face and pull him back to you, giving him another long kiss before assuring him, “You’re fine, Geralt. I like that I’m turning you on so much. I’ve never seen you this wound up before.”

He buries his head into your neck. You almost laugh. You--a five foot woman with almost no fat on her tiny body, someone who couldn’t even scare a fly away--have made a witcher shy. It’s as adorable as it is arousing. You can feel the quick rhythm of his heart against your clothes, beating outrageously fast for a witcher. Warmth radiates off of him and mixes with your own, making it hard for both of you to breathe.

“Move between my legs,” you tell him in a whisper.

He looks up at you as if checking to see if you’re joking, but when he sees the arousal on your face, he complies. Your legs fall open as his large frame moves between them. You pull his mouth back to yours and kiss him deeply. He lets you take the lead only long enough to memorize the movements of your tongue, and then he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth again and biting at your lips. You bring your hips up to grind against him and you both let out moans as his erection rubs against your core.

Geralt squeezes his eyes shut in bliss. “Fuck, that feels--” But he loses the ability to speak as you grind your hips against him again. He loses control of his body. His lust guides him as he rubs his erection against your core like a dog in heat and your kisses turn into open-mouthed pants and moans.

“Can I touch you... down there?” he asks.

You can taste his breath on your tongue. “If you don’t, I will.”

His hand is between your legs in a flash, his fingers softly skimming up the skin of the inside of your thighs. You release a sigh of pleasure when his hand finally cups your mound.

“I can feel how wet you are,” he gasps, “through your undergarments.”

“I’ll get even wetter if you keep going,” you tell him.

But he doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t do anything but hover over your heat.

“Do you know how to touch a woman?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head and avoids your gaze, biting his lower lip nervously. He has no idea what you want to do to him when you see him bite that lip. It’s so fucking arousing.

You bring your hand down to rest over his and begin to rub it against your heat in slow movements. He catches on quickly and continues the movement even when you pull your hand away. Your eyes fall shut. Somehow, whether by luck of by skill, he has the knowledge to start moving his fingers in a circular motion directly above your clit. You cry out and grind into his hand, needing more pressure, more contact, more everything.

“Is that good?” he asks when he sees you respond to your touch.

All you can do is nod. He continues to please you and in the midst of your pleasure your hands absentmindedly begin to knead your breasts, making the fire inside of you even stronger. You let out a gasp--

And then Geralt’s hand stops, halting the pleasurable waves rolling through you. You open your eyes to find him staring at your hands. His mouth is parted in shock and awe as he takes in the sight of you groping your own breasts. He looks at your body like he’s never seen anything more arousing in his life.

Oh sweet, innocent boy.

“Take my dress off,” you tell him.

His eyes flicker back to yours. “W-what?”

“I would do it,” you admit, “but there’s so many strings, and your witcher strength makes ripping through material so easy.”

He brings his hands up to the front of your dress, hovering over it.

“Rip off my dress, Geralt,” you say. “Rip it off like you’re so desperate to have me that you can’t think straight.”

And he does. Half of you expected him to hesitate further, so when the cotton of your clothes rips apart you gasp. And then you’re under him, your entire body exposed to him. He drinks in the sight of your breasts hungrily. His pupils expand even further as his gaze lowers to your undergarments, the only thing left between you and him. He reaches for them--

“Wait,” you say.

His eyes jump to yours, freezing like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“I want to undress you,” you tell him.

For the first time since you began kissing, he pulls away from you. “You don’t want to do that, Y/N.”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “And why is that?”

“Because I have... some scars.”

You almost laugh at how ridiculous his reasoning is. “You think a few scars are going to scare me away?”

“They’re big,” he admits. “And they’re... deep. They’re really...”

“Ugly?” you guess.

He nods.

You push him to the ground and roll on top of him until you’re straddling his waist, his erection pressing tightly against your core. His hands come up to your hips and press you tighter against his bulge. You let him take his pleasure from your body for just a moment before you hover your face above his, your breasts brushing against his clothes, the material making your nipples harden.

“Geralt, there is nothing ugly about you.” The seriousness of your tone forces him to listen to you. “Never has been and, gods be good, there never will be. You have a kind heart and a quick wit. There is. Nothing. Ugly. About. You.” With every word you circle your hips, making both of your bodies scream with simultaneous pleasure and frustration at the amount of clothes between you. “Can I undress you?”

He finally nods. You climb off of him and help him out of his shirt and pants, not stopping to admire the view until he’s completely naked before you. He was right about the scars. Despite being such a young witcher, his arms and legs are already covered in thick gashes. There’s a small swirl of dark hair on his chest and naval, but that’s all you have time to notice before your attention narrows in on his manhood. You’ve been with a few men, but none of them have been witchers. Only witchers and the mages that work with them know what body transformations take place during The Trails, but there’s no way it didn’t affect their manhoods. Geralt has to be at least eight inches. You’ve never seen a cock with such girth and length. The thought of fitting that inside of you makes you so wet you practically whimper.

You move back to straddle his waist but stay up on your knees, letting him rip the last of your clothes off and tossing it to the side. His eyes take a long, hungry look at your pussy. You slowly lower yourself on top of him until his cock rests between your folds. A whimper escapes you when his cock first makes contact with your dripping core and your hips rock back and forth in a slow motion that’s teasing to you both. Geralt’s hands return to your hips, occasionally squeezing your skin when his desire makes him impatient.

“You’re so big, Geralt,” you sigh, continuing to memorize the feeling of him between your folds, the head of his cock occasionally brushing against your clit and making your body tense.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

You open your eyes to look down at him. He’s enjoying this as much as you are, his beautiful mouth parted and his eyes squeezed shut. The muscles of his stomach flex with every movement of your hips. You rest your hands on his abdomen and feel the dark hairs of his stomach twirl between your fingers.

He’s so beautiful, you realize. He’s a goddamn angel. And the blissful look on his face drips with sinful desire, making you feel like a succubus. But now you understand why demons are so intent on tempting men into the darkness--watching them give in to their desires is so intensely alluring. That’s how you feel now as you continue to bring Geralt to the peak of his pleasure: like you’re a passenger to his bliss and you can’t find it in yourself to look away from the beauty of this man falling apart beneath you. You want him to cum, you want to bring him more pleasure than he’s felt in his entire life, you want him to become so enamored with you that nothing--not even his own hand--will ever be able to satisfy him again.

Your hips finally still as you reach down to grab his thick, heavy cock and line it up with your entrance.

“Y/N!” he calls out, panic in his voice.

You freeze. Is he choosing now to change his mind about this? “Yes?”

“I’ve never, um...” His grip on your hips loosens and tightens as he struggles to find words. “I’ve never done this.”

“Yes, we’ve established that,” you agree.

He gives you a look that says do I really have to spell it out? “I don’t know how long I can, um... I might not last...”

You smirk at him, finally understanding what he’s getting at. “I know witchers, Geralt. I know that even if this weren’t your first time, the hypersensitivity of your senses would keep you from lasting more than a minute or two. But I also know that witchers have a great amount of stamina, which means you can cum over and over again. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing to you.”

His eyes widen but he can’t say anything before you sink down onto him. His mouth falls open and his eyes close as the hottest sound you’ve ever heard falls from the back of his throat. Your walls are tight around him. Your insides burn as you continue to lower yourself onto his shaft, forcing your walls to adjust to him and fight through the pain. He continues to moan and cry out the further he moves inside of you. The sight of him so wound up beneath you makes your walls clench, growing even tighter around him.

“Y/N!” he calls out just as you fit the rest of him inside of you.

You kiss him deeply, hungrily, and say, “Cum for me, Geralt. I want to feel your seed deep inside of me, coating my walls--”

He reaches his orgasm before you’re even done coaxing his high out of him. His cock pulses a second before his seed spills inside of you, hot and sticky. His body shakes and he squeezes his eyes shut as his mouth falls open in a silent scream. You stay still for a moment to let him catch his breath. But then you start moving on top of him, grinding your hips against him in the same slow rhythm you’d used to tease him earlier. He’s so big and thick that you can feel him touch every inch of you. Your walls pulse around his cock as you increase your pace and begin to ride him with purpose.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he cries out, his hands digging into the small of your back.

You feel so tiny against this large beast of a man, yet so powerful as you coax another orgasm out of him in less than a minute. Feeling him cum inside of you is dangerously addicting. He struggles to focus his gaze on you as you continue to move on top of him, feeling your own orgasm near. Your eyes fall closed as your body begins to tense and relax. You don’t even realize you’ve brought a hand up to squeeze your throat--

Until Geralt replaces it with his own and squeezes tightly enough to cut off your airway. You clutch onto his wrist, never wanting him to let go of you. Your hips move in messy circles on top of him as Geralt’s touch pushes you over the edge. His grip on your throat tightens just a fraction as you cum. It’s enough for you to see stars, for your heart to skip a beat, for your soul to practically leave your body and reach the heavens. Your walls spasm as you milk his cock with everything inside of you. The orgasm is so intense, so mind-numbing, that you collapse on top of him when you come down from your high.

Geralt holds you in his arms, letting you rest against his warm, solid chest. His cock is still deep inside of you. Still, neither one of you move, enjoying the sensations of his cock warming your pussy.

“Is it always like that?” Geralt mumbles after a long minute of comfortable silence.

You smile against his chest. “Not always. Never, in fact. Only if you’re lucky do you get to experience something like that.”

“Then mark me the luckiest man in the world.” You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms something inside of you.

“We should probably get to town,” you suggest. “I need to replace the clothes you just ruined.”

“Mmm... five more minutes,” he says.

“The sooner I get new clothes the sooner we can find an inn for the night and fuck in a very comfortable bed,” you point out.

You swear you’ve never seen your witcher move faster.

***

Taglist:

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[putas-in-suffering]

Quarantine Day 1:

A little treat for you babies. This was an idea that was already developed in our hive mind and just wouldn’t leave bc quarantining with Miguel is a whole ass vibe. So allows us to introduce part of Miguel’s Most Expensivest: Quarantine Edition. 

Miguel had promised you a relaxing day at home. He swore he’d get his work done as early as possible to free up the rest of his time for you. And despite the current state of the world, you were excited. 

It was just like Miguel to wait for a global pandemic to spend some much needed time with his lover.

You secure the tie on your swimsuit, scrutinizing your reflection. You smile at what you see, pleased with the product of your efforts. You dab some perfume onto your neck and wrists, feeling the butterflies beginning to set into your stomach. Miguel had texted you thirty minutes ago from his office downstairs, requesting you meet him by the pool in a half hour. You’d been tidying up the bedroom, organizing your closet when you saw the message, a smile instantly adorning your face at the prospect of spending time with your elusive partner.

You make your way down the stairs, bare feet making your movements muted against the marble floors. The house is quiet, the hustle and bustle of running a cartel shut down for the time being. You can feel the breeze through the open ceiling to floor glass doors that line the back patio, the air feeling divine on your bare flesh. 

You see a glass of champagne sitting idly on the dining table, waiting for you. You laugh at the gesture, your heart beating in anticipation. Miguel was always a little over the top. The clear waves of the pool call to you as you make your way outside, the low hum of music echoing through the outdoor speakers. The view is one of the main reasons you bought this house, the California hills and mountains shielding you from view from the rest of the world. In times like these it was easy to imagine you were the only two people that existed. 

A movement from your peripheral pulls your attention to your right and the lounge chairs that sit near the pool’s edge. The man who owns your heart is lounging in the warm rays of the sun, a glass flute of champagne gripped in his hand. 

And he’s naked. 

He’s as naked as the day he was born, brown skin on full display. Your eyes struggle to take all of him in at once. The smattering of hair across his legs, the firm muscles of his thighs, the ridges of his abdomen. You envision running your nails down the planes of his chest, knowing the hiss he would release in response. The strong chords of his neck call to you, begging to be marked with your mouth. His facial hair is trimmed neatly along his chiseled jaw, the mixture of black and grey making your thighs clench. Your eyes linger on the thick muscle resting between his thighs. You’ve had the pleasure of experiencing it first hand, but that doesn’t stop you from licking your lips at the sight of him. A pair of sunglasses are shielding his eyes. It's those sunglasses. The pair that have the power to make your panties flood. 

He looks every bit as luxurious as his bank account says he is. 

He’s aware of your reaction to him and he’s obviously pleased, a devilish smirk planted firmly on his bearded lips as he calls to you.

“Mi amor...” He beckons you with an outstretched hand. 

You go to his side, his free hand smoothing up your thigh and around to your ass as he plays with the string of your swimsuit.

“What’s this?” He asks, finger edging past the fabric and across your pubic bone. You shiver at the touch. 

“You said to meet you by the pool.” You reply, catching the smirk he wore at your slip of attitude. 

“No clothes while quarantining, baby...” He subtly demands, fingers now untying the knots. 

You hesitate for a moment at the feel of him pulling the material away, forgetting how isolated you now were in your own home. 

“No te preocupes.” He soothes and you nod, allowing him to expose you to the warmth of the day. 

He sets aside your champagne glasses and reaches his hand out to you, signaling what he wants. You move instinctively, straddling his lap. You hum at the pleasant feeling of his bare flesh against yours. His skin is hot from the sun and it heats yours instantly, cocooning you in a blanket of warmth. He immediately unties the strings of your top, ridding you of the garment. Your naked chest presses against his, his hands caressing your back in a gentle pattern. 

“Feel good?” He asks, his chest rumbling beneath you. 

You moan in response, burrowing further into his neck as his hands explore every inch of your body. The sun and breeze work together to lull you, your soft curves rubbing lazily against his hard lines. He sits you up, his fingertips tracing along your face and neck, his eyes still hidden by tinted lenses. You can see the mischief in them still. And the thought sends a jolt straight to your pussy.

“Hermosa...” He whispers against your lips, a firm hand now gripping the flesh of your ass. He captures your mouth with his, your tongues tangled in passion. You get lost in each other, your bodies writhing in search of friction. 

His lips move to your breasts, tasting you flesh. Your fingers thread into his hair, anchoring him to the nipple he’s attached himself to. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back as you grind into his lap.

“Miguel...” You breathe out, feeling him hard and wanting beneath you. Your thighs widen as you twirl your hips against him, ensuring he’s soaked and primed for your body. 

“What is it?” He asks, hearing the change in your breathing. You dig your nails into his chest and are instantly rewarded by the hiss that escapes him. 

“I need you.” You plead, curling around him as he sucks almost violently at your neck. 

“Put me in.” He softly demands, his voice the perfect elixir of smooth and rough. You whimper and raise onto your knees, feeling him try to align himself with your opening. 

Your pussy pulses around nothing, desperate to have him embedded deep into your womb. You grip him in your hand, your walls taking him in slowly. You take inch by glorious inch, letting the familiar burn wash over you as he stretches your walls. You moan lowly when he’s reached your barrier, your body now pressed firmly against his. 

“Fuck, baby...” He curses, forehead buried in the crook of your neck.

Neither one of you move at first. You savor the feeling of fullness, feeling the throbbing of his cock against your walls. You squeeze him within you and he nips at your neck in retaliation, a low growl falling from his lips.

You both take your time, moving in an unhurried rhythm as you just feel the other. He lets you take control as your hips rotate above him, never letting him leave the confines of your body. His hands rest on your ass, gently guiding you. His sinful mouth devours your breasts, pulling a moan from your throat. It's perfect, the kind of coupling that almost makes you feel intoxicated. 

Miguel bends his knees, his feet firmly planted on the chair beneath you. You feel the thinly veiled control start to unravel as he bounces you in his lap, meeting your thrusts. You lock your arms securely around his shoulders, maintaining balance. A thick finger begins to assault your clit as he moves your hips, forcing you to take him in repeatedly. 

“Oh, god...” You cry as the crescendo builds, readying for your climax. Pleasure leads you as you move with him, lights beginning to dance behind your eyes. Your limbs tense and your spine twists as wave after wave of ecstasy pulls you under. Your walls quiver and ricochet off his cock, your hips no longer moving in tandem with his. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He confesses between gritted teeth. 

His jaw is clenched, his arms straining with tension as he continues to pound up into you. The sound is obscene, but it only adds to the moment as he finally releases inside of you. His hips stutter as his body spasms, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. You moan at the feeling, basking in the guilty pleasure of having him fill you. 

Satiation hits immediately. Miguel pulls you to him as he reclines against the propped up back of the chair. Your ear settles over his chest, listening to his heartbeat attempting to slow down after his high. His hands run up and down your back, his softening cock still locked in your depths. You can feel his cum threatening to escape from between you as you adjust your position. Your eyes already feel heavy, the combined stickiness of sweat and fluids securing you to him for the time being.

“Jesus...” You say with a tired laugh, trying to catch your breath.

You crane your neck up to look at him, those ridiculously attractive sunglasses still perched on his nose. Beads of perspiration decorate his forehead, but there's an ease to him that wasn't there before. 

“Its Miguel.” He quips, smiling at his own joke. His arms encircle you while your fingers dance delicately over his chest. 

“That was quite a surprise.” You tease, pressing a kiss to the flesh beneath you.

“I’m taking full advantage of this quarantine, my love.” He showcases his white teeth in a grin, and even though his eyes are hidden, you know he’s winked at you. His statement is further punctuated by the light slap on your ass, his fingers in no hurry to stray from where the two of you are still joined. 

You only smile, letting the breeze, the sun, the music, the champagne, and Miguel’s touch take you away. Spending the quarantine with the cartel may not be so bad after all. 

[hermionemonica]

Watching Her Sleep

AO3 link

“I am so sorry, m’ lady..”   

“No Chaton,” Ladybug argued, “it wasn't your fault. It was I who wasn't looking where I was going.”   

“But none of this would have happened if I hadn't challenged you to race me,” Chat said in a little voice.  

“Hey,” Ladybug reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. She knew her kitty had a dangerous habit of blaming himself for every small thing that went wrong. “It isn't anything big, I just slightly sprained my ankle, it’s gonna be okay.” She tried to stand up, but stumbled as soon as she tried to put her weight on her injured foot. Fortunately, Chat was there to catch her just in time.   

“Let me take you home,” Chat said, lifting her up in his arms.   

Ladybug knew that it was the best option, given that her foot wasn't exactly in a condition to support her up for too long. “Just one minute,” she said. “Tikki, spots off.”   

Chat Noir did not look away as the pink light of detransformation took over Ladybug, and left Marinette in his arms. Since they had revealed their identities to each other a few months back, he had seen Marinette transform and detransform many times.   

“I just thought,” Marinette offered to explain, “that it will be easier to explain if someone sees Chat Noir dropping Marinette home than if it were Ladybug.”   

Chat smiled. She really did always think of everything.   

“Now, the Knight will drop off his Princess to safety,” Chat bragged, as Marinette giggled and wrapped both her arms around him.   

   “Thanks, Adrien,” Marinette whispered as Chat put her down on her bed.    

“Anytime, m’ lady,” he returned with a smile. “Do you happen to have an ice bag around?”   

“There's no need-"   

“Marinette.” Chat cut her off in a very serious voice. “Do you want to be limping all over the school tomorrow?”    

“I guess that won't be very appealing,” she gave in. “There's one in the second drawer of my vanity.”   

Chat hopped off the bed to get the ice bag. Once he found what he was looking for, he made for the trapdoor.   

“Um,” Marinette leaned over the side of her bed, “where do you think are you going?”   

“To get some ice,” Chat responded, holding up the empty ice bag.   

“Are you saying you are going to move about my house, when you are not even supposed to be here in the first place?” Marinette crossed her arms across her chest, “I hope you have a good explanation for that, in case my dad catches you.”    

“Princess,” Chat offered to explain, “it's 11 in the night, the bakery is closed and your parents are most probably asleep. And just in case they are still up, there are certain advantages of being a cat,” he ended with a wink.   

“You're not a real cat.”   

“You get my point!”   

“Alright fine,” she threw her arms up into the air, “but I won't take any responsibility of whatever happens.”   

Adrien breathed a little laugh as he descended through the trapdoor. If only Marinette knew that he would gladly run into any risk for her.   

   When Chat’s head poked through the door, Marinette's voice came in an urgent whisper. “I was beginning to get worried!”   

“Don't worry,” Chat reassured her, “your Knight is safe and most probably undiscovered.”   

“Most probably?”   

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his head, “You see, your mom was actually still up. But she didn't give any unusual reaction, so I don't think she saw or heard me. I guess, the black suit and my boots saved my butt tonight. Victory!” He waved the filled ice bag over his head like a bag.    

Marinette let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, which aptly expressed how she was feeling.   

Grabbing a towel from the chaise, Chat climbed back onto the bed. As he was placing the towel on her injured ankle, Marinette spoke up, “I could do that by myself, you know?”   

“Are you suggesting I let go of such an opportunity to serve my Purr-incess? Me-owch, I thought you knew me better than this!”   

Marinette threw back her head and laughed out loud.   

Adrien glanced at her with warmth when she wasn’t looking, but promptly turned his gaze away as soon as she looked at him. He then commenced on his ‘treatment’. At first, he probed around to determine the exact spot where it hurt. Once he had located the site, he set off to apply the ice bag. He was surprisingly tender and careful, and Marinette could not help but be impressed. And maybe, a bit flustered.  

“There you go,” Chat announced a while later, as he carefully wrapped the ice bag in the towel and put it away.   

“You know, you're really good at this. I think my leg already feels like new,” Marinette praised him.   

“This cat has many hidden talents, m’ lady,” Chat bragged. “But I'm not done yet. I still have my own personal elixir to any and all ailments.”   

“What are you talking ab-"   

“Shh,” Chat silenced her by gently pushing her down on the bed. And then he shifted his own position to lie on his side beside her, propping his head up on one elbow.   

Before Marinette could voice her confusion, Chat closed his eyes and began to produce the most soothing of purrs.   

The sound was strangely comforting, and soon Marinette could feel her entire body relaxing.   

“But kitty,” she spoke in a little voice, “don't you have to go home?”   

The purring paused only for a moment. “Not until you’re asleep.”   

Marinette could not find it in herself to protest. Instead, she pulled the covers closer to herself and closed her eyes tightly.   

She was fast asleep within a few minutes. Once Adrien heard her breathing drop to a slow, regular rhythm, he stopped his purrs and opened his eyes.   

She looked so peaceful as she slept. Her lips were slightly parted and a light pink colour dusted her cheeks. Stray moonbeams from her skylight window gleamed off her face. Adrien had always known Marinette was beautiful, but at this moment, he thought she looked angelic.   

Adrien reached out to move a strand of hair that had fallen over her face. At the touch, Marinette shifted slightly and he froze in fear that he might have woken her up. Luckily, she didn't open her eyes, nor did she show any sign of wakefulness. But just when Adrien was beginning to relax, Marinette, still fast asleep, grabbed hold of his hand and hugged it close to herself.    

Adrien paled. He carefully tried tugging his hand away from her grip, but Marinette let out such a grunt of protest that his heart stopped for a moment. He was left with no option but to abandon his efforts. With a sigh, he accepted that he was effectively stuck.   

Eyes widened in anxiety, Adrien looked back and forth between her face and his hand, hardly daring to breathe. He had not accounted for something like this to happen. But now he was stuck in a very compromising position with Marinette. His cheeks flared up when he thought about how embarrassing it would be if Marinette were to wake up now.    

But she was asleep now. All he had to do was wait around, quietly and carefully, till she shifted or turned over in her sleep so that he could pull his hand away. That seemed like a good plan, and Adrien finally closed his eyes and let out a Sigh of relief.  

When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking into Marinette's sleeping face. He stared at her in affectionate wonder for a moment. Something happened inside him. His gaze gradually softened, and he could feel a strong sense of protectiveness rising inside himself. He wanted to wrap his arms around this girl, hold her close, and feel her warmth. He wanted to shield her against all the bad things of the world.    

There is probably something magical about watching someone sleep. It's such a simple thing, and yet it holds so much trust, so much comfort, so much love. His Princess, his Lady, slept by his side, holding on tightly to his hand, and what idiot could remain unaffected by that?   

He wished he could tell her how much he loved her. How much he wanted to spend all his nights like this, looking at her as she slept. How much he wanted her to hold onto his hand like that forever. How much he wanted to call her his, just as he was already hers.   

But he had no idea when a night like this would come again. And that was why he could not break his stare from his face. It was a privilege in itself to be so close to a Princess like her, much less be allowed to drink in her beauty like this.   

And then he yawned. Of course, it was pretty late. And Marinette's bed was warm and inviting. He did not want to think about his lonely, looming room. This was his happy place.   

Will Marinette notice the change in texture from leather to skin? Probably not, he would have to take the risk.   

“Plagg, claws in.”   

Marinette did not move. Adrien heaved a sigh of relief.   

He took out a piece of camembert from his pocket and gave it to Plagg, who swallowed it whole without any hesitation. “Wake me up if I am too late,” he whispered to his kwami, who nodded in affirmation before zooming away to join the other kwami who slept upon the headboard.    

He turned back to look at Marinette. Smiling a little, he settled himself under the covers and wrapped both arms around her.    

“Good night, Marinette,” he whispered before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.   

   Adrien had always been an early riser. Hence it was no wonder that his eyes fluttered open as soon as the first rays of the sun peeked through Marinette’s skylight.   

The first thing that greeted him was a mass of raven blue hair. It took him a while to get oriented with the unfamiliar surroundings, before he remembered what happened the previous night. He leaned his head back to take a look at Marinette's face. Her open hair was splayed out on her pillow, and a line of drool ran down the side of her mouth. Adrien lightly chuckled to himself, she was so adorable. Even asleep, she had a strange hold over him. It was as if she was pulling him towards herself. Unable to resist, he leaned in towards her face. Brushing away her bangs from her forehead, he gently planted a kiss there.    

Marinette’s grip on his hand had loosened. Adrien reached out and nudged his kwami awake. “Plagg, we have to go home.” Plagg, however, was a little reluctant. Only after blackmailing him with three wheels of cheese did Adrien get him to budge.    

He sat up on the bed as quietly as possible and whispered his transformation words. Just before leaving, though, he turned to look at Marinette one last time.    

Chat smiled. She would probably have no idea that he had spent the night holding her in his arms. And he was determined not to shock her with that knowledge, which was why he wanted to get away before she woke up.    

“Bye, Princess,” he whispered. And then he leaped out through the skylight silently. Most of Paris was still sound asleep. As he bounded across the rooftops, he prayed no one back at his house had noticed his absence the previous night.   

It was 7 when Marinette finally woke up to her alarm. As soon as she opened her eyes, she was greeted by a red and black being hugging her cheek. “Good morning Marinette!”   

“Good morning Tikki,” she hugged her kwami in return.   

“How does your foot feel?” Tikki asked.   

“A lot better,” Marinette rotated her foot to check. “That cat sure knows his stuff.” And then an image floated into her mind, and she smiled to herself.   

Tikki didn't miss it, of course. “What are you thinking, Marinette?”   

“Oh, it was just a dream I had last night,” Marinette replied. “I dreamt that Adrien kissed my forehead.” Instinctively, her hand went to her forehead and she closed her eyes. A blush rose to her cheeks as she whispered to herself, “Silly kitty.”   

Tikki looked on with a knowing glint in her eyes. After all, she was well aware it wasn't really just a dream. 

[sondepoch]

The Touch (Saeran x Reader)

In a world where everyone has tattoos that move and change when you come in contact with your soulmate, Saeran is one of the few born without any marks on his body. He's led his whole life believing that he has no soulmate, but meeting you might prove otherwise.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST 

Saeran could always tell which couples were and weren't soulmates.

Take Saeyoung and MC, for example. A single glance at the pair was enough to know. Because no matter what, no matter when, no matter where: they would be touching.

But then that girl and guy over there, having coffee? There was no question that they were dating—the twinkle in the girl's laugh and the blush and the boy's face was too prominent for their relationship to be anything less. But their blatant refusal to allow even the slightest physical contact was a blaring, neon sign that though they were together, fate hadn't planned for it to be that way. Lovers they might be, but soulmates they were not.

Saeran let his eyes further wander around the cafe, flitting from couple to couple until he found another prime example: a girl and a boy.

The girl couldn't have been aged past thirteen, the boy scarcely older than her, but their fingers were intertwined tightly together in a quiet display of pride.

Lucky, Saeran thought as he watched the normally black ink on their arms shine a soft baby pink as the designs moved up and down in a neverending motion that passed back and forth from arm to arm. The movement was truly mesmerizing, starting the at exposed skin peeking out of the girl's T-shirt and climbing its way down to the boy's muscular arm, where both sets of tattoos seemed to dance on the skin.

It was rare to see soulmates find each other at such a young age, but endearing too. People said that the way your soulmate tattoos move would change as you age, and Saeran couldn't bring himself to look away as he watched the marks waltz back and forth, slow but steady, from girl to boy.

It was different from how Saeyoung and MC's tattoos moved.

More innocent.

Saeran preferred it.

Though that was just his jealousy speaking, he knew. Still, the knowledge of his envy didn't make dealing with it any easier. He'd seen more than enough of his brother and his girlfriend. Those two never stopped touching each other, obsessed with how their tattoos would pulsate in rhythm with their hearts, triggered only by the revered touch of the soulmate.

Saeran sighed.

A touch he would never feel.

"Ray?" A voice called, forcing the boy's eyes away from the young lovers. He stood up to retrieve the coffee he'd ordered, mumbling a quiet 'thank-you' to the server.

In truth, he'd left the bunker mainly to get away from Saeyoung and MC.

It wasn't their fault, he knew. Fate had spelled out their romance for them when it inked their soulmate tattoos onto them in the womb, that was just how they were meant to be.

So why did looking at them always deepen the void Saeran felt inside of him?

The redhead sighed as he took a sip of his coffee, pulling down the sleeves of his jacket as if someone would notice the lack of any markings on his left hand. As if someone would notice that he was one of the few born without a destined soulmate.

I should be thankful, he thought bitterly. If I had a soulmate, she would be miserable with me.

That much was true, at the very least. Saeran was damaged, he knew. Years of following the Savior's orders and taking Elixirs had ravaged his mental state, and he still woke from nightmares daily.

It wasn't just that Saeran didn't deserve anyone.

No one was bad enough to deserve him.

He sat himself down on a bench outside, opting to watch the world go by. Doing that always helped him whenever his brain felt like it was tied into knots. There was so much to see: couples kids running after each other, parents chasing close behind, stray couples wandering up and down the streets of Seoul. It was therapeutic.

It made Saeran forget about the fact that he was destined to live a life of pain.

That he was to live a loveless life.

That his was the life of someone born without a soulmate tattoo.

"Ho-Syun, get back here!" A teenage girl called, chasing gleefully after a boy who was running away from her and laughing. Despite himself, Saeran felt a light smile form on his face as he watched them in their merriment.

"Chua! Mr. Chua! It's me! How could you forget?" Saeran followed his eyes to a new set of people, a young boy crossing his arms in front of a confused looking elder man. A part of Saeran wanted to pay closer attention but he found himself distracted by yet another call.

"Applications out! Applications are out! BC-Sonic is hiring! Get your application today!" The boy relaxed in the sea of voices, the neverending conversations, the seemingly infinite activities that people all had going on at once.

"Sir! Sir!" The boy took another long sip of his beverage. The voices around him made it easy to ignore even the incessant whispers inside his head, the noisy street giving him a temporary refuge from his mind as he just existed. "SIR!"

At the sudden increase in volume, Saeran opened his eyes. One can imagine his shock when his mint-green eyes caught sight of you, dashing after a cat that was escaping you with every fiber of its being.

Wait, was the cat really running away from you? Or was it specifically running toward him?

Saeran tried to stand up and eject himself from the cat's trajectory, but before he could even move, the little black creature had pounced into his lap.

The boy could only blink.

"I am so sorry about that," He heard you say, as you tried to coo the cat out of Saeran's lap. You wouldn't meet his eyes in your embarrassment, he noted with mild amusement, as you brought a hand to pet the creature before it hissed at you.

"Is this your cat?" He inquired, wondering why the little devil seemed to be so averse to you.

"No, ah—" You scratched the back of your head sheepishly. "My best friend asked me to take care of it. It's hers. The damn fuzzbutt hates me though, so..."

Saeran had to suppress a smile at that, placing his coffee down on the ground. He pried the cat off his lap, awkwardly holding it in midair so that you could take it from its hands. "Here," He murmured softly. The cat was cute, without a doubt, but he didn't want to keep it from the person responsible for taking care of it any longer.

The cat, on the other hand, seemed very much opposed to leaving Saeran.

The second your hands approached it, the thing wriggled furiously in Saeran's grasp. When it found itself unable to squirm out of the boy's strong hands, it settled for biting your approaching fingers with all its strength.

Ouch.

Saeran tried not to wince as the cat bit down, immediately causing you to recoil backward.

"Are you...okay?" He asked when he saw blood begin to drip from your hand. It wasn't much at all, practically nothing compared to what he'd seen at his time in the Mint Eye, but the pained look in your eyes brought an unfamiliar sense of worry to the boy.

"Y-yeah, here, I'll take her from the bottom so she can't bite me this time."

You moved your hands forward to take the cat from Saeran, but he only chuckled, lowing the animal into his lap. "Let's see the bite, first," He muttered softly taking your smaller hand into his own. He was about to tilt the injured finger toward him to get a better look at it when he felt a searing pain in his right arm.

"Ow!"

He flinched when he heard your voice, suddenly realizing that in his pain he'd tightened his grip around your finger.

"M-my arm—" He sputtered out, doubling over in pain while trying not to make a noise. He grabbed the rim of the bench he was sitting on and the world around him was suddenly forgotten, even the innocent meow of the cat on his lap.

He vaguely heard you curse before you jumped to your feet, tearing the leather jacket he was wearing off his body to check for injuries. But the increased contact only worsened the agony in his arm.

Saeran forced an eye open to see what was going on. Had he been shot? Was his arm on fire? What was that light?

Both Saeran and your eyes widened in shock when you both saw the dull glow emanating around Saeran's tattoos. My tattoos from the Mint Eye, Saeran thought numbly through the pain, wondering why they were acting up. Had they been tattooed in poisonous ink? Why did it feel like the tattoo was on fire, being branded even deeper into his skin?

It was only when the tension in his arm had faded that Saeran saw that you were in the same pain next to him, clutching your arm.

"Are you alright?" He managed to stutter out, pulling you to your feet.

The sudden contact caused another strange sensation to flood down Saeran's arm, though this time it brought no agony. His arm tingled lightly, with the same soft yellow glow as before. Eyes wide open in bewilderment, he looked at you to realize that the same thing was happening on your arm.

Shocked, you both pulled back, and the warm feeling Saeran had been experiencing vanished as soon as your hand left his. Then, hesitantly, this time, Saeran reached a delicate finger forward to graze yours and the feeling bloomed inside him once more.

You leaned into him ever-so-slightly, reciprocating his gesture and his touch, and the moment you did the tattoos on your bodies lit up and began to move toward each other, linking and dancing together with no signs of stopping.

The cat on his lap meowed in delight.

"The touch of a soulmate," He whispered, baffled by the fact that he was feeling it. He was born without any markings, cursed to lead a life devoid of love...so how?

"I didn't think I had someone," He heard you whisper, watching the designs intertwine with each other. "My tattoo was fake."

"Mine too," He responded, his face fresh with a smile that—for the first time—wasn't forced in any way. "My name is Saeran," He finally introduced himself after he'd recovered from the initial shock of seeing his tattoo, the fake tattoo he'd acquired after birth, respond to someone.

"I'm (Y/N)," You responded, before taking a step toward him, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple movement brought so much warmth, the sort that spread from within him—and at that moment, Saeran understood.

He understood why MC and Saeyoung were always joined at the hip, why that girl and boy in the cafe had held each other's hands so tightly, why the touch of a soulmate seemed to intoxicate everyone who felt it.

Whether he'd realized it or not, his entire life had been building up to this moment: to meeting you. The tight squeeze he gave your palm felt like a blessing from heaven itself, as if meeting you was the work of an angel who had finally decided to give Saeran the happiness he'd spent his whole life searching for.

His touch was a delicate reminder of everything to come: from the first kisses to the inside jokes to the eventual future he realized he would get to share with you.

The touch was a promise, from one soulmate to the other, to eternally bask in each other's warmth, to love each other and become one as the tattoos already had.

The touch was everything.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 2.0k

Notes: Saeran is PRECIOUS~ he deserves so much happiness

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