#i just wanted a collar for myself because it looked cool

[hyunsvngs]

hyunsvngbinimas!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

warnings: they're in love your honor, mostly vanilla, brief rimming, brief foodplay, kitchen sex, clit play, unprotected sex, creampie

You hate that Felix is so good at these types of things. He’s had to help you reassemble your gingerbread house three whole times now, when it’s unceremoniously fallen apart on the tray, and his creation looks perfect. He’s even done you and him standing outside in icing, with Bbokari standing next to you both as your little chick pet.

Not that you’d have been able to truly focus on yours anyway. Felix had been accidentally brushing against you, grabbing your waist, sometimes pushing past you to grind his cock on your ass. It was meant to be a cute experience, both of you in matching Christmas pyjamas and Felix in his Santa hat, but of course your gremlin of a boyfriend had to turn it into something sexual.

“Mine looks bad,” You whine, stomping your feet. Felix looks at your house, all slanted walls and barely-attached roof of it, and bursts out laughing. You whine again, elbowing him in the tummy softly. It’s his fault! “Felix. Don’t be mean! Not all of us can be super creative.”

“I know baby, I know,” He’s still laughing, but he wraps his arms around your middle. The Christmas music is still playing softly in the background, and he sways you and hums along to the song. His Christmas hat tickles your neck, and you finally let yourself smile, hands grabbing his forearms where they rest around you. “At least you’re good at making cookies. Look! You even did a Jureumi one for Minho hyung.”

You blink at the cookie where it’s cooling on the tray, before nodding in acknowledgement. The lines are a little bit wonky, but you know Minho will kiss your forehead and thank you nonetheless. “I think he’ll like it.”

“He will,” He nods, kissing your cheek. “He’ll love it, baby, and if all else fails, Chan will love your gingerbread house.”

“He’ll just lie to be nice about it.”

“Well, yeah, but-” Felix is cut off by his own giggle as you swat at him, before he grabs your hands, rendering you motionless. “Don’t attack me! It’s Christmas!”

You ignore the urge to tell him that it’s not quite Christmas yet. You’d been invited to Felix’s dorm to bake for the other members and have a sugar-infused Christmas party prior to the actual day, and Felix had ushered everyone out so that it would be a surprise. An unhappy surprise, you think, because your gingerbread house looks shit. 

“It’s not my fault it looks bad anyway, Felix,” You groan, pointing an accusing finger at him. He throws his arms up in surrender, a faux-innocent look on that beautiful freckled face. “You kept touching me.”

Felix drops his arms then, giggling. “Did it get you hot under the collar, baby? That’s so cute,” You let him crowd you against the counter, the smell of gingerbread and sweet icing filling your senses. He braces you with his arms, surprisingly muscly, and your hands come up to your chest as if to defend yourself. “You’re so cute. I couldn’t help myself, not with you looking so delicious in these pyjamas.”

You glance down at your pyjamas. Minnie Mouse in a Christmas dress stares you dead in the eyes. “I have Minnie Mouse on my shirt.”

“That’s what makes it so cute!” Felix gushes, a smile on his face. “You know I love you looking so domestic. It makes me just wanna… y’know.”

You watch with an amused smile on your face as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. He’s so ridiculous. You love him. “Makes you wanna what?”

“Touch you,” He breathes, leaning in to peck your lips chastely. When he pulls away, there’s a more determined look on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “I want to touch you. I have since we started this fucking baking date. I just wanna bend you over the counter and make you cum, you look so cute.”

Oh. Your chest starts heaving, breaths tumbling out your lips. “Oh, Felix…”

“Will you let me?” Felix questions, little fingers coming up to play with the collar of your shirt. His hands are burning hot on your skin, making you squirm in your spot and huff out a sigh. “I want to make you cum, baby. Will you let me?”

“I- Yes, yeah, I’ll let you.”

“So cute,” He murmurs, dark doe eyes scanning your face, and then he’s kissing you. You let him, mouth opening pliantly for Felix’s typical soft, yet messy kisses, open mouthed and channelling all of his love through them. 

The pom pom on his Santa hat dangles precariously and tickles your face, but you ignore it, fingers moving up to rest on his broad shoulders. He crowds further into your space, if it’s even possible, and pushes his hands up your shirt. You gasp into the kiss when his hands knead your breasts, sans-bra due to your intended comfort in your pyjamas. Your nipples are hard, pebbled against his palms, and he groans into your lips.

Felix groans into the kiss, his deep timbre reverberating through you, and then he’s shoving his hand down your bottoms. “I wanna play with your clit, make you cum before I push inside,” He huffs, and you nod eagerly, letting your legs fall apart just slightly to accommodate him. His fingers push into your folds, finding your clit and almost whining at the mess he finds between your legs. “Oh, baby. It’s so wet down here, you liked me touching you?” 

“I always like you touching me,” You murmur, a pink flush rising to your cheeks. Felix chuckles, and then he’s rubbing circles around your clit. He always knows how to touch you, how to make you cum so quickly and so hard that you’re seeing stars and can’t breathe for a minute afterwards.

You usually love tangling your hands in his hair while he pleasures you; you love to hear his sharp intake of breath each time you tug a little harder. With the scarlet santa hat hiding his locks, you’re lost. His fingers speed up, harsh circles on your sensitive bundle of your nerves making your hands scrabble for purchase, flitting between his chest, his shoulders, cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips back to yours. You don’t know what to do with yourself, you can barely contain your upcoming climax.

“Felix,” you utter, a breathy moan. “Lix, Lix, look at me.” He looks up obediently, dark eyes wide as they meet yours. “Cumming, cumming, I-”

He hushes you with a kiss, he doesn't need to hear what you're trying to say. He knows you're cumming, he sees it in the way you look at him, the way your eyebrows furrow and your fingertips dig into his skin with a wail. He feels it as your wetness floods his fingers, and he gives you a second to try and catch your breath before speaking.

“Good?” Felix chuckles, kissing your nose. You scrunch your nose up in response, and he does it again, and again, until he stops and presses his forehead against yours. “Mm. I want to fuck you. Can I?”

“Yeah,” You nod, smiling. “You can always fuck me. How do you want me, Lixie?”

“God,” He grins, teeth white and shining. You let your eyes trail across his freckles while he thinks, hands securely on your waist and eyes fluttering shut. He hums, and then spins you around, pressing your front into the counter. “Like this. Bend over for me, baby, I’ll hit it nice and deep.”

You wiggle your ass teasingly and Felix moans, slapping your asscheek. It only takes a second and he pulls your pyjama trousers down with your underwear, running a thumb through your folds. 

“So sloppy,” He muses, and then you hear him sigh. “I want to try something, baby, stay still for me.”

He reaches over and you hear a few clattering noises, and Felix dribbles something cold on your ass. You squeal, shifting, before his hands go to your hips to keep you in place. 

“Lix, what’s-”

“Icing,” He groans, and you hear him shifting onto his knees. His tongue hits your skin, licking up the trail of sweetness on your asscheek. His tongue dips over your skin a few more times for good measure, even going as far to lick over your asshole, tonguing the rim.

“Lix, please, I can’t wait,” You whine, hips wiggling tantalisingly. “Lixie, please, please-”

You’re cut off by the feeling of the blunt press of his cockhead against your hole. It has you wondering briefly if the boys are going to come home halfway through you getting fucked, and it makes you whimper, pushing your hips back into Felix’s cock. The feeling of his pyjamas against your skin makes you realise that he’s fucking you with just his cock pulled out, otherwise fully clothed, and you gasp, feet kicking against the floor.

“Gimme it,” You slur, head dropping down onto your arms. “Wet enough, feel, gimme it!”

When his cockhead breaches your hole you wail, loud and unabashed.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight, baby, fuck,” He groans, sinking into your heat slowly. You whine, pushing your hips back on him again, and his hands splay across your ass. A beat passes, and then he’s thrusting into you, slow and passionate and so delicious that it makes you moan. You feel his pubes against your ass, trimmed hairs on his balls slapping against your clit with the sinuous rhythm. “Feel good? Tell me, tell me, fuck, baby…”

“It’s so good, Felix, I can feel everything, it’s so- hnnnng, Felix, Felix, please, faster-”

“I’ll cum if I go fast, baby, give me a second,” He huffs, head dropping to your neck. His chest presses against your back, and he continues to fuck you slowly for a bit before he speeds up. With the position, he’s got you deep and pliant, legs spread for him to do what he wants to you against the counter. Finally, his pace increases and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You feel a wave of pleasure crash over you as Felix's thrusts become faster and harder, his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust.

“Ah, ah, like that, like that, oh my god,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head. Felix always fucks into you just right, and you reach back to grab onto his hand, pulling him closer into you. “Oh, keep going, just like that, I’ll cum again, I’ll cum.”

“Cum for me, cum for me,” Felix moans, his voice higher pitched as his balls slap against your clit. He’s getting close. Your pussy’s so wet that the slapping sounds echo around the kitchen, yet your moans and whines are louder than anything else. “Baby, c’mon, cum for me, I’ll cum inside.”

Your head lolls forward, your bottom lip wet with drool. Felix rarely came inside, too worried about the risks, and the idea has you hurtling into ecstasy. “You’ll- really? You’ll cum inside? God, I want you to, Lixie, please-”

“I’ll fill you up, baby, I promise, c’mon. Show me how good this cock makes you feel.”

With a particularly well-timed thrust into your g-spot, you fall apart, wailing through your orgasm and trying to grip onto the counter with sweaty palms. Your cunt flutters around Felix’s cock over and over, the tightness forming a new intensity for him, and he groans before his hips halt against your ass. You feel his hips trembling against you as he cums inside, filling you up with pulses of white cum and making you feel full of him. It’s so hot, so sexy that it almost makes you want to go again, but you’re interrupted by the sound of voices by the front door. 

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbles, pulling out of you with haste. You gasp at the realisation that the other boys are back, yanking your bottoms up and trying to ignore the feeling of Felix’s cum leaking out of you. He shuffles around the kitchen awkwardly, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible, and you giggle as he wiggles his bottoms up awkwardly. 

You both try to make yourself look busy, trying to fix your now collapsed gingerbread house and fiddling with the cookies. You hear a scoff from behind you, and you turn around to see Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin. The youngest has a dumb smile on his face, Minho looks to be suppressing the loudest laugh he’s ever done and Seungmin’s scowling.

“Hi!” Felix says, too cheery. “Do you wanna try our gingerbread house?”

“Only if you promise that’s actually icing,” Seungmin remarks, raising an eyebrow. You flush, lips parting in shock. “It stinks of sex in here.”

Jeongin grins, elbowing him playfully. “As if you’d know, hyung.”

“No, but seriously,” Minho smirks, eyes flitting between you and Felix. “Can’t you two do anything without fucking like rabbits?”

Felix turns to you, a bright blush beneath his freckles. You’re embarrassed, but the soft look in his eyes reassures you, a fond smile on his face. “It’s Christmas, and we’re in love.”

You coo, and Seungmin fake gags.

“You’re both disgusting.”

[kasagia]

Between the bookshelves

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! non-grisha! reader Summary: It was so easy for you to fall for the Black General. It took him one visit to the library in the Grand Palace to catch your eye and make you fantasise about him - a dangerous, mysterious ancestor of the Black Heretic. But that was all that could happen between you two... fantasy, daydreaming, or dreaming at midnight in the privacy of your chamber. He was the strongest of all Grishas, and you… you were just a librarian woman. But maybe your fantasies and huge/little crush on Darkling can turn into something much more? Requested by: @dreampissybaby It took me ages, but I hope you'll like it! 😅🩵🖤 Word Count: 8,2k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You put the books on the shelves, staring at the landscape outside the window. It was winter. The snow fell slowly, glistening in the sunlight. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the shadows slowly taking over the part of the library you were in. It was only when they blocked the view through the window, creating a black curtain, that you realised you were no longer alone.

You squealed, surprised, as your back was suddenly turned to the shelf and pinned against it as a certain man crashed his lips into yours hungrily, giving you no time to say anything.

You moaned into General Kirigan's mouth and tangled your hands in his snow-covered hair as he held you trapped between his strong, well-built body and the bookshelf, tasting you greedily with a passion you had never felt before. And each brush of his lips against yours only felt more intense.

"I was thinking about you for a whole blody month. I couldn't sit through a single meeting without thinking about those enticing lips and the things I want to do to you when I finally return." he whispers, kissing your forehead.

He strokes your cheeks tenderly with his thumbs and studies your face carefully, looking for any changes that may have occurred in the month he's been away.

"You came back earlier. I didn't even hear any sounds of horses from the courtyard or whispers among the maids that you were back with your Grishas." you say, stroking his hair messed by the air. You notice that he still has a few snowflakes in them and giggle at how this dangerous man looks so cute with the snow in his hair, black cloak, and red nose.

"I could have left Ivan in charge of the rest and set off earlier myself. They should be here tomorrow. I left them as I saw the walls of Little Palace, and actually, I saw them in the distance from the tower when I was running here." he admits, and you're pretty sure the blush on his cheeks isn't due to the change in temperature. However, you decided to ignore it and not tease him about his obvious embarrassment.

"Come. We need to warm you up. We wouldn't want the general to get sick and be more grumpy to his soldiers only because he wanted to see a girl earlier."

"But what a beauty she is."

Before you can even answer him, his now slightly warmer lips crash against yours, stealing your breath. You moan as he pushes you onto the windowsill. Your back, cushioned by his hand, hits the cool window as he kisses you, as if trying to make up for the month of separation with his one (or maybe more) kiss.

"Next time, I'm taking you with me so I can claim what's mine whenever I want." he pulls away for a moment to whisper before capturing your lips again. You smile, pulling him closer to you by the black fur on his coat.

"Aleksander..." you moan as your lips part and his hand travels under your dress, caressing your leg and making you shiver, both from the cold air and the electric touch of his skin on yours.

"So distracting, so teasing... my little Otkazat'sya, who is constantly occupying my every thought when I should be focusing on the possible war to come. The saints know you will be my sweet undoing."

Your hands land on the collar of his kefta under his coat, and you slowly move them along his chest, unbuttoning his kefta and shirt. You are caressing every newly exposed bit of his skin with your hands, not ashamed of the desire to touch, and caressing every single part of your general...

"Your man came here." your colleague taps you on the shoulder, taking you out of your 'reading', and nods towards the main aisle.

You turn your gaze away from the book, which was only your excuse anyway, thanks to which you could freely indulge in your fantasies. You take a quick glance at the general.

"Shush!" you hiss at her, checking if the general didn't hear her. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that his attention was completely focused on the bookshelves. "He might have heard you. Besides, he's not my man."

"You better tell him that. Every time he comes here, he asks specially about you. That means something." she teases you as you put the book back on the shelf.

"That means nothing. It's just that I know most of the books on military tactics from my father and brother, so only from me he can find out where exactly it is. I doubt anyone else in this library would understand which book he's looking for." you brush her comment off and walk over to the general, who was looking at the titles of the books on the shelves.

"Good morning. How can I help you this time, general?" you smile politely, trying to fight the stupid fluttering of your heart you had around him. As well as the dirty thoughts that tormented you about this unfairly handsome man.

You thanked saints every time you talked to him, for that he wasn't a heartrender and couldn't hear your traitorous, stupid heart racing fast each time you were in his presence.

You take a moment to study his face, noticing that the dark circles under his eyes have increased slightly over the course of the week. His eyes, although still shining in their characteristic, even mischievous way, are cloudier and more tired. And if you could, you would comfort this over-busy man, or at least try to provide him with some sense of comfort.

But you can't. All you can do is watch him from a distance.

So you do so. You study every bit of his face carefully, allowing yourself to do so when he talks to you about a book, and you pretend to listen to him, right after you heard the title of the familiar book he was looking for.

After all, you didn't want to waste his time… or give him any suspicion that you were taking every possible moment to admire him.

You know that your infatuation and dreams are stupid and that nothing more will ever happen between you two than a polite conversation and maybe the exchange of a few observations about books. But you can't help but imagine how wonderful it would be to kiss his tempting lips, cup his bearded cheek in your hand, or run your hand through his dark brown hair.

Just as his soft voice is no longer heard in your ears, you come back to reality, and it takes all your strength to look away from his too-perfect (for your stupid heart's sake) face and focus on the books on the shelves.

"This is a basic position. You should have it in your book collections." you say, running your finger along the spines of the books and looking for the one he needs.

If you had turned around at that moment, you would have seen a blush spreading across his cheeks as he looked around nervously and cleared his throat, trying to think of an excuse.

"To be honest... my personal library is not kept in such an... order. It's much easier and faster to come here. A nice company is also an additional benefit, as also the opportunity to break away from reports, plans, and other annoying papers."

"And here I thought that soldiers usually kept order around themselves. Especially the general of the whole army." you tease him with a smile and hand him the book he was looking for. His fingers brush against yours briefly, making you shiver.

"I found it hard to keep everything in order in the thought process. Especially lately when so many things which are on my head."

"So I guess your library is pretty messy." you smile as you hear his soft chuckle after your comment.

Everything about this man was ethereal. Starting with his appearance and ending with the way he carried himself. With pride and power radiating from him, which made everyone show respect, awe and fear for him.

Some invisible electric force was pulling you towards him—something inexplicable that only a few people could resist. And you definitely weren't one of them.

Like a moth to a flame. - you think mockingly, knowing that everything he represented was darkness and danger. But you could see more than his shadows. Something that didn't let you put him out of your mind so easily.

"That's putting it mildly." he says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You lick your lips and nod, laughing a bit.

"Maybe you should find someone who will clean up this mess for you. It would be a shame if the general of the Second Army got lost under the piles of his own books." you say, expecting to hear another burst of laughter from him.

But that didn't happen. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, as if he was searching your eyes for some kind of answer. You stared, hypnotised, into his dark irises until he finally saw something in your eyes that made him take a step towards you.

"Are you offering?" he whispers, making you shiver as you try to hold his intense gaze.

The fact that he's close enough that you can smell his cologne, his intoxicating scent, and his warmth, which is nothing like your fantasies, makes it even harder for you to string together a coherent sentence.

"Maybe I am." you whisper back, not sure if he understood it as a statement or a question.

But judging by the way he leaned towards you, slowly closing the distance between you and your lips with each small movement, you think he rather understood your intentions...

And just when you think he's finally going to end this torment—when he's going to lean down and catch your lips in a passionate, tender kiss and pin you to the bookshelves like he already did in your dreams, too many times for you to remember—you two hear somebody calling him.

You are the first to break eye contact, shift your gaze to the shelves next to you, and step away from him, even though every cell in your body screams with the need to be close to him.

"It looks like I have to go." he says. It clears your throat and catches your eye again. His dark eyes are focused entirely on you as he decides to make his move and adds, "I shall be waiting for you tonight if you are still offering your help. I could really use it." he says, ignoring the footsteps approaching the alley.

"Well, I shall meet you then, general." you answer instantly and with a little flirtatious tone before you can think about it or get scared and change your mind.

He gives you such a wonderful, charming smile that it convinces you that he was created by the saints themselves. Your heart skips a beat as he leans down and presses a such gentle kiss to your hand that you have to focus very much to feel his lips on your skin.

"I shall be expecting you then, milaya." he says, and you think he winks at you before turning around just as one of his Grishas comes into view.

They walk away together quickly, the man explaining something to him in a hurry, but all you see is him stealing a quick glance at you before disappearing around the bend into the main alley.

"Milaya?" you whisper to yourself, frowning.

And before you can think it through, you rush to the old Ravkan dictionaries to find this concrete word he used, ready to endure your friend's teasing when you tell her you think you have a date with the general of the Second Army.

"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed." he says slightly angry, after they return from the training field, where the young Inferni have started a fight with the Squallers and started a damn fire. Aleksander frowned as he felt the soot harden on the sleeve of his kefta.

"My apologies, General, but that was an important matter." Grisha, who interrupted his conversation with Y/N, explains himself as they enter his chambers, straight to the war room.

"Next time, you can only come to me if a Little Palace is set on fire, not some field. And even then, it will be better if you find some tidemaker to extinguish the fire. Understand, Captain?" he asks madly and sits down at his desk. He sighs when he sees the new papers that Ivan must have delivered to him in his absence.

"Yes, sir." he sees Grisha nods nervously. He rubs his eyes and sighs, seeing that his hands are also black with soot.

"Bring Fedyor here. And Ivan. I need someone reasonable." he mutters and gets up to go to the bathroom and get rid of any traces of fighting the fire. "And make sure the kids show up for their night training with Baghra. That should calm them down and keep them busy... at least for a while."

Grisha salutes him and leaves as quickly as he can. Aleksander rolls his eyes and looks in the mirror, cleaning his face. He returns to his desk and looks over the reports Ivan brought. After a few minutes, his heartrenders appear.

"You wanted to see us, sir." Ivan says this, standing in front of his desk. Fedyor is next to him, looking at the general. He frowns at seeing the messy state he is in.

"I have a task for you." he says, and he signs some orders. "First of all, please explain to me how the Little Palace was almost set on fire when I was only a few minutes away?" Ivan swallows and wants to say something, but Fedyor comes first.

"Zoya is on a mission. The kids felt too... carefree in someone else's care. But I assure you, General, that after today, it is unlikely to happen again. I heard them say on their way here that they had never been so afraid in their lives. Besides, they're just kids. Good thing the tidemakers were close. As soon as Zoya returns, she will definitely teach them a life lesson."

He nods, deciding to deal with this matter another time. "Were you able to gather the information I needed, Fedyor?"

"Yes, sir. Y/F/F. These flowers are waiting in the conservatory; you can pick them up and give them to her whenever you want." before Aleksander can scold him for making such bold assumptions, Fedyor continues. "Oh, right, I forgot. David is finishing the necklace you ordered. With her favourite gem, of course. But we have a serious problem, General. People are talking."

"They always talk. What exactly do they have in mind this time?" he clears his throat, trying to ignore how the heartrender so easily suggests his blatant infatuation of Y/N. He decides to remain silent. After all, Fedyor was the best... informant regarding Y/N. And his help was necessary in this case...

Although he liked Ivan's company more, it was Fedyor who was mainly responsible for them both being together, and that means he was more useful in his little mission. How two heartrenders got together—even Darkling didn't know exactly—but he desperately needed all of Fedyor's advice after his own attempts to woo you had failed.

He may have been handsome and had many women vying for his attention, but since Luda... he hadn't really courted anyone. No one was important enough. No one had broken through the wall of his heart created by Luda's death. When he decided that he had buried too many people close to him to endure another death, another loss.

And then you appeared. An ordinary human, not even Grisha. And he fell for you fast, hard, and suddenly, and despite his better judgement, he gave in to this need to be in your presence. And every day, he wanted much more. Irronicaly, he was too nervous around you to finally make a move. Or at least one that will be clear to you and provide him with your… reciprocity of his feelings.

And Fedyor had too much fun helping him to 'get a girl'. Just like teasing the general, who put up with his taunts as long as his advice worked. At least Ivan was here to stop his lover when he walked on the thin line of the general's patience.

"They are… interesting why our general is so often a guest in the Grand Palace… a library, to be precise."

"And? Is it something wrong? Can't I use Ravka's book resources?

It was a weak excuse. Aleksander knew this. But she won't admit his feelings... especially not to Fedyor.

"It's not like I'm going there just to look at her." he adds, mumbling under his breath as his attention is fully focused on the report in front of him. He wanted to finish this as soon as possible to prepare for your visit.

"And with all due respect, moi soverenyi, what exactly are you doing there?"

Aleksander hears Ivan kick Fedyor in the ankle as Heartrender asks him this question. He smiles to himself and finishes writing the last report.

"None of your worries." he says and hands the completed papers with his directions and orders to Ivan. "I'm unavailable for the rest of the day. Only matters of the utmost importance, and I only accept these messages from you two; keep any incompetent soldiers away from me; I had enough of them today."

His thoughts wander back to that moment where he almost managed to kiss Y/N. If it weren't for that damn soldier… his mind wanders to all the possibilities of how his visit could end.

"It really worked? She comes here?" Aleksander wonders if he should be offended by the incredulous tone he used.

"She is. That's why I hope I won't be disturbed anymore. At least not with trivial matters that can be taken care of without my interference and that I can find out about the next morning."

"Does she know she's staying until the morning, sir?"

"Fedyor." Ivan hisses at him, furious, unsure how much longer the general can take it.

Aleksander swallows, embarrassed. He can't help but wonder if you'll be as willing as he is to extend your overnight visit into the next day… or two.

"General, your heart is beating faster. Do you need any help?"

Fedyor smiles, half-malicious, half-happy to see the general melt at every thought of you. You completely swept him off his feet, and he didn't even have a second to defend himself. It was refreshing to see him so... lost in his feelings for you.

"Ivan, get your other half out of my sight before I send him to West Ravka, right through the fold, without any light or Inferni with him." Fedyor tries his hardest to stop smiling at his words. Ivan covers him and nods respectfully to the general.

"Yes, moi soverenyi."

As the door closes behind them, Fedyor laughs softly at Ivan. "Who would have thought that he of all people would choose Otkazat'sya? The one who never stayed around non-Grishas longer than necessary?"

"Do not be stupid. He definitely needs her for something else."

"You yourself heard his heartbeat. He fell head-over-heels. I have to tell Genya to make him a new kefta... preferably two, one male and one female, matching, you know, just in case."

Fedyor smiles as he sees people cleaning the corridors of the Little Palace. Their general was so obvious about his feelings that it hurt. The opinion of a heartless general effectively covered up his obvious actions.

"Why? She's not a Grisha. The general knows better than to pursue her."

"My dear, in the state our general is in now, he hardly cares about the fact that she doesn't have any powers. Besides, I know of marriages between Otkazat'sya and Grishas. There are few of them, but thanks to the sharing of life energy, the couple lives happily ever after, as long as Grisha's one doesn't die."

"Marraige? Don't go that far into the future. Even if he feels something for her, he will get over it."

"You will remember my words when he asks you to be his best man. Come on, honey, let's see what we can do for our general." Fedyor laughs and pulls Ivan towards the conservatory.

You walk through the corridors of the Little Palace, led by one of the Oprichniks, to the general's chambers. You feel weird coming here. He was usually the one who always visited you. At different times of the day in the library.

Involuntarily, you remember one of his rare nighttime visits.

You were alone in the library. You sat curled up in an armchair by the fire with a blanket around you.

You liked spending evenings in the library. It was completely silent then; you could listen to the crackling of the burning wood and get completely lost in your book.

However, lately, your thoughts have been turning more and more often around a certain general of the Second Army. Hence the book that was on your lap. "The Lives of Saints."

You've read most of the books about Grishas. About how they use their powers. About their little science. They fascinated you. Like Kirigan. At first, you were afraid of the general. He was, after all, a Black General, a descendant of the Black Heretic. But there was something... defenceless about him. Humane. Not identifying with the terrible legend circulating about him. And that little element of the common human in him drew you to this mysterious man.

You smirk to yourself as you hear the quiet footsteps you've learned to recognise as he lets you hear that he's close. You remember quite vividly how you shouted at him when he snuck up on you and almost dropped the stack of books you were holding. You don't know who was more surprised then—you or him.

"A little late for a night visit." you say, closing your book and shifting your gaze to the man walking towards you.

The smile disappears from your face when you see that he has dark bags under his eyes and is much paler than usual.

"Do I look that bad?" he asks with a laugh at your reaction. The blush on his cheeks and his less confident step make it clear that he didn't take your behaviour as carelessly as he showed.

"You look like death. What happened?" you ask, worried as he sits down in the armchair across from you.

"Tough week. I will be good. I had to come here. I... I haven't looked here for a while."

Little did you know that he wanted to say that he hadn't come for you. That he didn't come to check on you even though he wanted to, but he just didn't have time. That he had been watching you at every opportunity, hiding in the shadows. He was stopping at the library to simply look at you each time the king called him to confer with him about a possible war with the Fjerdans, which thankfully he had managed to avoid.

Now that the vision of Grishas' blood being spilled was no longer hanging over his head, he had come here—to the only shelter he had in this forgotten by the saints country on even a world.

He came to you.

"I noticed." you say and give him such a beautiful, comforting smile that this week of fighting against the king and the general of the First Army is worth the price of his nerves, sleepless nights, and the effort he put into avoiding war. This smile is a sufficient reward for all his efforts to maintain peace and security.

For Grishas, his mind screamed; he did it for his people.

For you, whispered a small voice in his head, coming from the remains of his shattered over the centuries heart. He did this to keep you safe—the only piece of his humanity he allowed himself to have. The only ramains of a man he used to be.

"You did?" he asks, swallowing. He watches you carefully, assessing your every little move and reaction.

He doesn't trust you yet... but he feels that he is getting closer to completely losing himself in your presence, which is soothing his battered soul like anything else in this world, and the warmth that radiates from you. If he didn't know you, he would think you were Inferni.

"Mhm..." you nod and start telling him about a book you read recently that he might have liked.

And he really wants to listen to you. Your voice soothed his frayed nerves and calmed the anxiety he had felt over the past few days, but as soon as he allows himself, as his head rests against the armchair, he begins to feel tired as well. And your wonderful voice, the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace, and the familiar smell of your perfume mixed with the smell of books lull him to sleep better than any lullaby.

You smiled, watching him relax in the chair and slowly fall asleep. You quietly got up from your seat and walked over to the fireplace to add a log to the fire. You took the blanket you covered yourself with and walked over to Kirigan.

Just as you were about to cover him, a strong pair of arms swept you off your feet, leaving you in the general's lap while he snuggled into you.

“So warm…” you blush when you hear his half-asleep whisper, but you don't question his actions.

You cover the two of you with a blanket, and after he settles his head comfortably on your shoulder, with his nose gently nuzzling your neck, you can't help but run a hand through his hair. And you almost moan at how soft they are. If you could, you would stroke him at every chance you got. But now you just leave a light kiss on his temple, trying to fight the hope rising in your chest, which tells you that maybe your feelings aren't so hopeless and unreciprocable after all.

Because what other reason could there be for this man, who was completely out of your league and who is currently clinging to you like it's the most normal thing in the world, than that he has feelings for you?

As if this strong, powerful man needed a shelter and could find it only in your arms...

You never talked about that night, nor did it ever happen again, but it was one of your favourite memories with him.

Surprisingly, he always hits your shifts. And you wanted to believe that it wasn't a coincidence that you two met so often.

And that milaya... he didn't call every woman a sweet girl, did he? No. There had to be at least a hint of attraction in him for you. And you were so desperate for him that you would take any scrap of affection he gave you—any chance to see how it would really be to be loved by him. Even if this closeness was to last only for one night.

He was nervous.

The hundreds-year-old shadow summoner was nervous. And not with the upcoming fight, battle, and important meeting with the king, in which he had to use all his manipulation techniques and lies.

He was nervous before meeting with you.

Baghra would laugh at him and beat him for being distracted by mortals. For letting his stupid heart take control again and naively allowing himself to feel something for a woman who would pass so quickly that he wouldn't have time to blink.

But does that stop him? Of course not. He always takes a losing cause and always makes bad choices.

But how could he not, when you were the only light that had appeared in a very long time that he spent utterly alone in the darkness of his war room, still planning and still thinking about how to provide all Grishas with a safe future in which they wouldn't worry about their lives anymore? How could he just ignore you when you were lightening brighter than the sun summoner herself?

A gentle knock on the door sent a shiver of both excitement and fear through him.

You were already here.

"Come in." he says, trembling with anticipation as he waits for you to enter his chambers for the first time.

However, his face grew grumpy when, instead of your silhouette in some beautiful (preferably black) dress, he saw Fedyor enter his chambers.

"What are you doing here? And what is that all for?" he asks, confused, as Fedyor places a vase with a bouquet of your favourite flowers on his war table, a basket with wine and delicacies you like, and goes to light more candles in the room.

"Things that will come in handy. Good night, General."

Fedyor leaves before he can react. He stares at the room for a moment and laughs to himself, shaking his head. You were going to be his undoing. People will see how... soft he is getting because of you. But somehow it doesn't bother him, at least as long as the prospect of holding you in his arms was within his reach thanks to it. He would put up with Fedyor's banter and whispered gossip within the ranks of the Second Army if it meant having you by his side.

The soft creak of his door draws his attention. His gaze is fully focused on the entrance, his breath catching in his throat as he waits to be blessed with the sight of you. Maybe he could afford this one weakness? To allow himself a moment of blissful peace in the constant, lonely war that he waged for the safety of every Grisha.

The curse almost leaves his mouth when someone else appears instead of you. This time, Alina. In a nightgown, loose hair, and an uncertain expression on her face. And although he really needed her in his plans, he couldn't help but damn her for her timing. It looked like he didn't deserve time free from his duties.

"Alina? How can I help you?" he asks instead, glancing briefly at the clock and wondering how politely and quickly he can dismiss her so that you won't see her leaving on your way to his chambers.

Ironically, what Alina would think about his encounter with you at night didn't matter to him at all. But it should be the other way around. After all, he was going to seduce her and use her power for his plans.

You weren't supposed to mean that much to him.

And yet he was there, standing in front of the Sun Summoner he had dreamed to find for so long, but now he was only wondering how to get rid of her.

"Am I... disturbing you?"

As always, he thought, but quickly shook his head.

"Not at all. What's the matter?" he asks in a polite tone, trying not to get irritated by the way she looks around his chambers. Her cheeks blush slightly, and her eyes glow in the candlelight.

He wonders how you will react to the scenery Fedyor has created. Maybe he should light more candles? Or dust off his old record player and put a record of slow, classical music in it. He knew it would help him. Many times, he caught you dancing alone in the abandoned alley of the library. There were many times when he joined you so that you wouldn't have to dance with the air... although the main reason that encouraged him was the opportunity to hold you in his arms.

He doesn't pay attention to what Alina is saying to him. He only catches the way she says his name, and he can't help but let his thoughts fly to you again.

Considering how often he was in this library, he should have known by now where to look for the books he wanted. However, he was glad that none of the librarians commented on it, and they immediately showed him where he could find you.

However, the reputation of a cruel Grishas' general had its benefits. No one dared to question him.

As he walks through the library, he smiles and thinks about you. How you weren't afraid to put him in his place when you didn't like something.

At first you were just a means to an end, then a pretty thing to look at, then over time you became a challenge, and now... he couldn't go a day without seeing your face or hearing your voice.

He swallowed and shook his head. NO. He didn't fall that low. Not for an ordinary woman, a mortal.

A mocking voice in his head that closely resembles Baghra's words mocks him as he tries to deceive himself. How weak he is.

And he would probably have turned back and tried to save his naive heart if he hadn't heard a familiar, slow song playing from the gramophone.

He froze, watching you dance to the piano sounds coming from the record player, and put the books back on the shelves, rearranging them in order. The skirt moved with your movements, and he wanted nothing more than to place his hands on your waist and pull you as close to him as possible, letting his hands trace your curves as he stared into your eyes.

So he did. Allowing himself to do what he wanted and forgetting for a moment what he should have done.

He walks over to you quietly and places his hands on your waist, turning you towards him and lowering you, keeping his hand on your back in reassurance that he won't let go of you.

"Kirigan!" you scream at him, scared by his sudden action.

You cling to him, and he might have laughed at your adorable reaction if the fake name he gave himself didn't feel like a slap in the face when you said it. And then, as you stare at each other without saying a word, he realises that he wants the only name that leaves your wonderful, tempting lips to be his real one.

"Please... call me Aleksander." he whispers, and somehow this was something more intimate and meaningful than all the flowers and furtive glances you had received for him. Than all the talks you have had. Than all the kisses on the hand, cheek, and hugs you had exchanged.

"Aleksander." you say back, whispering it, like it was something sacred.

His heart sinks further. It does a flip when he hears how gently you say his real name, the name he kept away from the world and close to his heart, only for himself.

He makes himself vulnerable to you.

And instead of freaking out, all he can do is look at you as if you were his only anchor, keeping him sane in his crazy life full of worries, fear, and anxiety. Your eyes shine up at him, reminding him of the stars—the stars that for a long time have guided him in his darkness and made him blind to everything else around him but you.

He was cursed. There was no turning back. He knew it the moment he heard his real name on your lips. And if it weren't for the damn pile of books falling with a loud bang, causing him to go into defence mode and hide you behind him, he would have kissed you right there and then.

He remembers perfectly that day. And he cursed every moment you decided not to use it. As if he cared who might hear it. As long as it came out of your alluring lips, he didn't care who heard it. He knew it would be the end of him to hear you scream it loud in the darkness of his chambers.

He doesn't notice when Alina approaches him. Or when she places her hand on his. At least not until a ball of light appears around them. He looks fascinated by Alina's possibilities and her power.

Alina leans towards him. His gaze shifts to her. He wonders if he should let her kiss him. But then the image of you comes to his mind, and he knows he has no choice but to push her away. He can't do this. Not when he knows he could be kissing you; taste your lips on his instead of hers. And the realisation makes him even more aware of how hopelessly he has fallen for you. To reject the Sun Summoner herself.

And that's when he notices you standing in the doorway.

"Y/N? Y/N, wait!" he pushes Alina's hand away and shouts after you as you walk away, closing the door.

He leaves a confused Alina speechless as he runs after you. When he's in the hallway, he sees no sign of you. He curses, realising what an uncomfortable situation you found him in with the sun summoner.

This will be difficult for him to explain. But damn him if he doesn't try his best.

"Don't." he stops his oprichniki from chasing you. You needed a moment for yourself. He knows that chasing after you would only make things worse... even if that was all he wanted to do right now. "Just make sure she will come back safetly to her chamber. If something happens to her, you will suffer the consequences. Understood?"

"Yes, general."

"That's all." they bow to him and leave. He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Aleksander?" Alina's hand is on his shoulder as she turns him to face her.

And maybe, if they had met a few years earlier—before he met you—he would have allowed himself to take the opportunity to get the sun summoner for himself. But now... all he wants is you.

"You should go back to your chamber." he says coldly, returning to his room.

Only to take his black kefta. Just because he couldn't talk to you doesn't mean he couldn't watch you to make sure you were okay. Maybe, thanks to you, he will figure out how to explain all this to you.

You were stupid. And naive.

You think angrily as you clean the library floor with a broom. If anyone noticed that you started cleaning again as a way to release your negative emotions, they did not comment on it. And good. You were a ticking bomb today.

Honestly, you could have seen it coming. Him and the Sun Summoner. They were perfect for each other. In every book, they would end up together, and you would just be a supporting character.

The less important one.

It's good that you realised this before you let yourself do with him something stupid, before you got to know how his lips tasted, how it was to lay with his arms around you... Although... you guess he got under your skin and into your everyday life too deeply for you to simply forget about him.

Especially when he wouldn't leave you alone.

"You can't avoid me." he says, walking out of the alley. You almost run into him with a broom and for a moment, you feel the urge to hit him with it. But then you remember that you didn't actually promise each other anything. You were nothing to him. Only a librarian. An ordinary person. At best, a friend.

"I'm not." you say it coldly and try to move past him.

"You are." he says, blocking your way. You lift your head to look at him defiantly. All he does is grab your hands and take the broom out of your hands. You suddenly feel vulnerable… as if the broom could somehow protect you from the shadow summoner and your feelings for him. "Please. I just want to talk."

"How can I help you, general?" you ask him in an emotionless tone.

He sighs, but you can see from the look in his eyes that he won't give up that easily. But you also don't want to get involved in something that is doomed to failure. Men like them didn't end up with women like you. Not with someone so… ordinary.

"That's not how it looked like."

"No? You seemed… quite enjoyed your closeness to her. Besides, it is not my business. You can do whatever you want. With whoever… If you don't need my help finding a book, then I should go now."

"No, wait. Please." he grabs your arm and takes a step towards you, refusing to let you just walk away from him.

"Do you call her milaya too?" you can't help but ask him this question in a tone full of resentment, anger, and bitterness.

His reaction surprises you. Instead of responding to your ridiculous jealousy with anger or a comment as cruel as yours, he… smiles. The bastard has the nerve to enjoy how bad you feel.

"Nevermind. Just…forget about it." you say, trying to break free from his grip, but he won't let you go—not even a step away.

After a moment, you feel him pressing you against the bookshelves. His nose brushes lightly against yours, and your lips are closer together than ever. He breathes heavily, his dark, almost black eyes staring into yours as he tries to stop himself from simply kissing every thought that isn't him out of you. You look at him, waiting; you don't know what. Every inner moral battle in him is settled by your quiet whisper:

"Aleksander?"

He's losing it. All the control he had gained over hundreds of years. He leans down and connects your lips in a long-awaited kiss. At first, he tries to be slow and gentle. He caresses your cheek affectionately and carefully places his hand on your waist.

Your moan changes all his plans.

He grips your waist tighter, bringing you as close to him as possible. He tangles his other hand in your hair, deepening the kiss and taking in all your whimpers. And Aleksander, for the first time in his long life, feels like he's in heaven.

By simply touching you. By simply kissing you.

He pushes away all his thoughts about breaking you and about defiling your sweet and pure person with his darkness. But he can't stop.

Not when you respond so eagerly to his kisses. Not when you pull him as close to you as possible by his hair and kefta. Not when he feels the same lust and desire for you that he has for you. Not when his wildest dreams are coming true.

He pulls away as he feels you slowly running out of air. He gives you just enough space to breathe but still stays as close to you as he can, resting his forehead against yours and pressing a kiss there. Both of his hands roam over your figure, and he curses at how delicate and otherworldly you feel under his fingertips. Like you always should have belonged right here, in his arms, in his hands.

The saints created you for him as his eternal trouble, as his baine of existence. To sweep him off his feet. To question any decisions he ever made. To prove to him that all his plans will be ruined and that his priorities don't matter when it comes to choosing between them and you.

"I… I want… I want it to be your business. I want you to care about me… just as I care about you too, moya milaya. My one and only." he whispers, pulling away from you enough that he can look into your eyes.

He strokes your cheek tenderly, deciding he doesn't want to spend another second missing you, your touch, and your presence. Holding himself back from kissing and chereshing you as you should be.

"And how can you possibly care about me? I'm… just me. Otkazat'sya. I can't summon the sun, shadows, or anything. I can't heal or manipulate hearts. I can't composite materials such as metal, glass, textiles, and chemicals. I'm not Grisha. I'm nothing special."

"Do you think I don't know it? Do you think that meant anything to my stupid heart the day I first saw you? That after our first conversation, I gave a damn about anything, but how is your laugh so hypnotic? How can I simply spend the day just looking at you or listening to your sweet voice, talking excitedly about every single book you've read? I know it makes no sense, but... isn't that what it looks like? How is it supposed to be? To fall for someone even knowing that you shouldn't? Even knowing that it's something doomed to fall from the beginning?"

"I suppose that's not how a love confession should look like, Aleksander." you laugh a little and hearing his name on your lips again gives him hope that he needs to fully open up.

"Maybe not. But we are not in the story. I speak from my heart, with my own words, because… nothing I ever knew can be compared to what I feel for you since the time we know each other. You attracted me at first, but… with time, I understand it isn't just some attraction. It is something deeper. More personal. You understand me like no one else has before, so don't stand there and pretend there is no special link between us, because this… this is everything that keeps me sane. With so many wars I have to fight, so many plans I have to put into action, and so many sacrifices I have to make… I shouldn't think about you… and yet it is everything I can do each time I leave your presence. You became a part of me… best part of me that I have ever had. And I know I will probably lose you in time, but… I can't imagine being without you. To go my day without speaking to you, seeing you, or laughing with you. And if you let me… I would like to keep you close for as long as I can. As long as you will have me."

He says all of this while looking at you with so much earnestness and passion that you have a hard time saying no to him or entering into his speech.

He sees your doubts. And he's so afraid of them that he decides to kiss you again, to try to bribe you, to make up your mind in his favour with the feeling of his lips on yours.

This time, you pull him in, placing your hands around his neck. He shivers as you play with the strands of his hair, and he knows that if he doesn't get you, the only ray of light in his grey existence, he has nothing to lose. Nothing will stop him from becoming a monster.

"I'm not so... open-hearted. Time taught me to keep my feelings to myself. But with... with you, I feel like the man I used to be. And I really like to be him again with you by my side."

"And... what about Alina?" you ask hesitantly, unable to get used to the idea that he might be… that he might choose you.

"You are the only one I can see." he whispers. He steals another kiss from you. This time, he presses you closer to him. You feel his muscular body under his kefta pressing against you, and you feel yourself slowly turning into putty in his hands. The bastard grins gladly as he feels you trembling.

"But for how long?" you try to hold on to one last rational thought before the warmth of the moment you share with him overwhelms you, and you become undeniably his. However, your internal struggle is just a matter of decency. You both know who won anyway.

"Eternity." he whispers against your lips before kissing you hungrily, losing control as he finally gives in to his desires, touching and caressing you as he wants with your more than willing consent. "Mine." he murmurs into your neck, pressing kisses there, his stubble teasing your sensitive skin as you moan at the feeling of his hot lips that you've imagined more than you care to admit.

"Mine." you respond, tangling your hands in his hair and pulling him in for another kiss.

Feeling his lips against you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing you, pulling you as close to him as possible, and his skin that you explore with your fingertips while unbuttoming his kefta as his shadows surround you, hiding the two of you from the sight of others who might be looking for you between the bookshelves, is making you realise that maybe, after all, you were the main character… at least in his story.

And that was all you could ever ask for.

[themissinghand]

Hello beautiful I hope you’re doing well! If your requests for dr.stone are still on hold then please ignore this message!

if not then can I request the five wise commanders with a s/o who tries to impress them by learning the stuff they are interested in. (Examples can be like Ryusui’s s/o tried to learn about boats or Chrome’s s/o tries to learn about rocks and tells them the stuff they learned.) Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a good one!😁

Dr. Stone: Painting with Two Hands

Summary: In which the Five Wise Commanders get blown away by your knowledge in their passion. 

Or you want to show them that you are someone they can rely on too. 

Pairing: Five Wise Commanders (Senku, Chrome, Gen, Ryusui, and Ukyo)  x GN! Reader!

Note: Thanks for the request and your patience! This turned out super fluffy and I love it! Each scenario takes place in a different time/place. 

Warning: None. 

★・・・・・・★

The Art of Science

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“A lab coat.” Senku looked at you incredulously, with one brow raised and his other hand shaking a glass beaker. 

“Okay, how the heck did you even get that-“

“Yuzuriha.” Right. 

“And why are you wearing it exactly?”

“Because I look good in it and…” 

"I've been studying chemistry," You declared, revealing a notebook filled with meticulously recorded observations.

When you hand him the said notebook, you watch his skepticism turn into fascination.

“Kukuku, I’m impressed, it’s right. You wrote down the formulas for everything. Where and when did you get this?”

“See, I actually listened to all of your scientific rants. I thought they were interesting and super helpful, so I wanted to learn.”

Senku blinked, slightly surprised that you had put in the effort to take notes, listen and learn.

“I thought that we could experiment together."

For a moment, he was silent, but then his lips quirk up into a smirk, and he flicked your forehead.

“Alright, what are you waiting for? Come help me then. Show me what you learned.” 

“Wait.” Senku was twirled around and handed a lab coat too.

“I got one for you too.” Dumbfounded, Senku didn’t move until you sighed and helped him put it on. Before you went to fix his collar, he came to his senses.

“I can do it myself.” He quickly turned away from you and put it on properly.

"You look good short king."

You had a smug expression on your face.

"Shut up."

You swear he has a little tint of pink on his cheeks, but you decided to not mention it.

“Come on, we got a lot of work to do.” He extended a hand, and you accepted it as if it was the norm. 

“I know Einstein.” 

The Art of Exploration

“Chrome! Look at what I found!” 

“Be careful (Y/N)! Don’t fall down!” 

Chrome ran after you as you skipped ahead and jumped into a flowing river. 

“(Y/N)!” Chrome was always worried about your safety and well-being, despite the many times where you proved where you were just as strong as him. 

“Don’t worry Chrome, it’s not like it’s my first time out with you! Besides, look, I found this cool-looking thing in the water!” 

In your hands was an oddly shaped rock, and while the two of you inspected it, neither of you knew what it was. Until you cleaned it a bit more in the river. 

A golden exterior shone through its surface. 

Almost immediately, you screamed out in excitement. 

“Gold! It’s the thing that Senku was looking for right?” Even Chrome was shocked at your luck, before hugging you from behind.

Even though you both were slightly dirty from running away and exploring all day, neither of you minded.

“It’s gold! Amazing! How did you find that so easily?” Chrome was genuinely curious. After all, from his perspective, he simply saw you jump into a river, bend down, and pick up a random rock. 

“Um…it’s kind of embarrassing but…” Chrome cocked a head at your hesitation before you blurted out. 

“I’VE BEEN LEARNING ABOUT ROCKS!” It was so loud that the world shook around you both. 

"because...I want to go with you more when you explore..." Your voice became quieter and quieter, while you fidgetted with your hand.

Chrome watched your face lit up, before you quickly turn around and make a run for it. 

“Wait (Y/N)! That’s so cool! Come back!” 

Chrome chased you with a giant grin on his face.

He can’t wait to see what you learned, and how, when the two of you go back to his workshop. 

Chrome also can’t wait to brag to everyone (especially Senku) how great you are.

The Art of Communication

“Raise.”

“I’ll play with you Genie, call.” The click of chips being pushed to the center. Gen(ie) winked at you.

Genie was nickname for your little boyfriend, why? Well, man can read minds (probably).

The cards are slowly being flipped over as spectators make their own guesses.

“All-in!” Gen pushed up his sunglasses dramatically (as if he was in an anime) and smirked as he turned to you.

“Sorry dear (Y/N), this is my game.” 

You stayed silent for a moment, observing Gen from head to toe.

But Gen of course, remains calm, and confident in his hand.

“All-in.” 

Gen raises his sunglasses in slight surprise at your bet.

“Dear (Y/N), are you sure?” Gen was slightly worried, after all, you tend to be more on the conservative side when it comes to gambling. He slides his hand over to you, and you put yours on top of his. 

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” You returned his look with a forced smile. Gen whistled, surprised at your sudden bold action. 

“Okay, I’m going to flip the last card.” Kohaku flips and the room goes silent. 

Then he saw a smirk rose to your lips, and felt your hand intertwin with his. 

“You owe me babe.” You hold up his hand while his jaw dropped to the ground. 

This was the first you had ever won against him in gambling. 

“Finally someone gave Gen a taste of his own medicine.” Ukyo rolled his eyes before snickering. 

“Wha-how did you-” 

"I thought I'd learn from the best.” You winked and stole his sunglasses, making your beloved stutter even more. 

“After all, the mind is the most fascinating puzzle, and yours is the most intriguing of them all." You put on his sunglasses with a smug smirk.

“Damn, that was cringe.” Senku commented, which received a nudge from Yuzuriha. 

Gen eventually recovered and chuckled, bringing your hand to his lips. 

“Oh dear (Y/N), are you playing mind tricks with me now?” 

“Of course not dear~ I still have much to learn~” 

(Senku of course, fake gagged behind the scenes, but that never stopped you and Gen from doing anything, has it?)

The Art of Navigation

Under the starlit sky, both you and Ryusui stood on the deck of the Perseus, his eyes scanning the horizon. 

It was at times like these where your boyfriend was finally quiet, appreciating the tranquility, and the ambience as you two were on a date. Delicious food and wine made by Francois, while listening to the waves rock against the ship, and the laughter from others inside. 

Of course, Ryusui is the one to break that silence when he notices the seas changing. 

“My love, a storm is coming.” He suddenly stands up, “Francois, follow me after you clean up.” 

“Yes sir.” Francois, elegant and efficient as always, quickly retreated with the food. 

“Ay ay Captain.” Your little salute made his loosen up just a little, before he held your hand, and pulled you inside as if he was guiding you in a waltz.

Ambitious, confident, and charismatic, that was your love, Ryusui.

As expected, he took the helm immediately, and an excited grin rose to his face as he looked far into the distance with thunderous clouds. 

“Love, can you tell them all to get ready!? We need all hands on deck!” 

“On it captain!” 

With a laugh, you began warning everyone through the speakers, and chaos followed as everyone scrambled to get on desk.

Surprisingly, Ryusui watched you give commands almost effortlessly and matching his pace.

“Furl the sails!” 

“We’re going to change courses!” 

“Make sure to hold to the ship!” 

“Love, you’re perfect.” Ryusui thanks you while he spins the wheel.

“Drop the anchors!” 

Then you turn around and slide beside him. 

“Love, let me help you - it’s that way - where we have to go right?” 

“A little bit more to the left, but love, I see you’ve been learnING-” The ship’s center of gravity suddenly shifts, causing you to lean on Ryusui as you grab onto the wheel for your deer life. 

“I love it! The desire to learn is always so endearing!” 

“Oh stop it~ All I did was read some maps and books!” 

“Hey Captain! Can you stop flirting and steer the ship properly!?” The others yelled while panicking on deck, and with a laugh, both of you steered the ship to safety. 

"One more time?" He proposed, and you agreed, much to the displeasure of your crewmates.

The Art of Archery

Sometimes, the kids are loud. 

As such, Ukyo and his companion often found solace in the tranquility of the forest. Sometimes they would take long walks, talk about various topics they would not share in front of children, and enjoy the silence once in a while away from the chaos of someone known as Senku. 

But one day, you asked Ukyo to learn archery. 

Naturally, Ukyo was elated to teach you, after all, it was a way for you to protect yourself. 

It began with Ukyo making a bow for you, then arm guard, and even received gloves from Yuzuriha. He wanted to make sure you had the best of equipment he could get, and that you were safe at all times.

The first few training sessions began with Ukyo standing behind you, guiding you with a calm, mellow voice, and helping you with aim. 

But soon, you both practiced archery side by side, the twang of bowstrings harmonizing with the rustling leaves.

"Your aim is getting better," Ukyo praised, a smile gracing his lips as he applauded you. 

“Thanks, it all because of your help Ukyo.” You gave him a little hug which he returned. 

“I’m proud of you.” 

“Can I come and hunt with you now?” For a moment he hesitated, but after seeing your adorable puppy eyes, he caved in within a heartbeat. 

“Okay, but safety first ok?” 

“Mhmm. I know.” 

You gave him a peck on the cheek, before he returned one too. 

LIttle did you know, not only were your arrows hitting the bulls-eye, they went through Ukyo’s heart too.

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 

But then he holds the food away from you. 

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 

He is rather pleased, though. 

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 

The orange pops into your mouth. 

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 

Something inside of you snaps. 

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 

He actually cries out in pain. 

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 

Not so pristine. 

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 

You whimper. 

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 

You ache. 

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 

The fever only worsens. 

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 

*** 

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask. 

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.”��

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 

You curse this time. 

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 

You bite off a groan. 

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 

“Suguru—” 

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 

You desire. 

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 

Your tears make him smile. 

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 

And then, “look at me.” 

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 

Without thinking, you obey him. 

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 

You cry out, clinging to him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 

You sob. 

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you. 

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 

Ice cold water pours on you. 

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.” 

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 

It’s like finally coming home. 

[unfinishedslurs]

stonathan fwb (steddie)

this one is inspired by this fic by fivecenturiesverse

“Nancy and I broke up.”

“Shit,” Steve says, somehow managing to sound surprised. As if he and Nancy weren’t teetering on the verge of something throughout spring break. “That sucks, man.”

“It…was a long time coming, I think,” Jonathan admits. There’s a soft thump, like Steve clapping Jonathan’s shoulder in solidarity. 

They don’t say anything else, and Eddie almost leaves to go eavesdrop somewhere else when Jonathan speaks. 

“Are you…going to do anything about that?”

“About what?” Steve asks, genuine confusion in his voice. 

“Nancy.”

“Oh.” Steve doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Eddie braces himself to hear the truth. That he’s going to ask her out, ask to get married, ask her to have his six little nuggets and travel across the country together. “No.” 

Eddie’s brain record scratches. 

“Really?” Jonathan sounds rightfully skeptical. 

“Yeah, I don’t…” he lets out a nervous laugh, and Eddie can picture him raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “There’s…someone else, and I can’t…she’s amazing. Nancy, I mean. She’s, like, this huge person in my mind, you know? I wanted to love her so much, and I convinced myself she loved me back because it was easier than admitting I was clinging onto something that wasn’t meant to be. I kind of put my whole future on her. Figured if I could love any girl, it’d be the perfect one right in front of me.” He laughs again, hollow. “She was right, to call it bullshit. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“If it helps, I think she really did love you,” Jonathan says, sounding fake as all hell. 

Steve brushes him off. “No you don’t. It’s okay, it was never really real. Not like you guys. That…that really sucks, man.”

“It’s for the best, I think.” There’s a long pause. “You said…if you could love a girl, it would be Nancy.”

“…I did say that,” Steve says warily. Eddie has a feeling he really, really shouldn’t be listening to this, but he can’t bring himself to back away. 

“Do you…are you…” 

“If you’re going to be an asshole, I should tell you that I’ve been working out a lot since ‘83,” Steve interrupts. 

“I noticed,” Jonathan mutters. 

What. 

“What?”

“What?”

“I…nothing,” Steve sighs. 

There’s another, longer pause, filled with tension that Jonathan decides to take an emotional jackhammer to. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

What the fuck. 

Oh, God, he’s going to have to save Jonathan Byers from his tragically straight crush. From their mutual tragically straight crush? …their mutual tragically straight crush, who admitted to not liking girls? 

Something’s not adding up. 

“What the fuck, Byers?” Steve sounds angry, and Eddie prepares to jump in. “What, you think just because I’m queer I automatically want to sleep with you?”

What. 

“No!” Jonathan yelps. “No, that’s not it, it’s just…we’re both queer, and stuck here for the foreseeable future, and I’ve never been with a guy but I trust you.”

There’s a stunned silence. 

“You’re queer.”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, probably dying of mortification. 

“You trust me?”

“Steve,” Jonathan says gently, and Eddie nearly bites through his tongue. “Of course I do.”

“You and Nancy just broke up,” Steve says, wavering. “And I can’t…there’s someone else. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can say no. I just figured I’d ask.”

“Fuck,” Steve mutters. “You realize I’m just as in the dark here as you are, right? I’ve never been with a guy either.”

“We can find out together,” Jonathan says. “Only if you want to, though.”

A heavy silence, where Eddie has to bite his tongue to keep his cool. 

“Fuck it. Why the hell not?”

Then Eddie has to leave for the sake of his own sanity. Not before he hears the wet smack of a kiss, though. 

Eddie might be going insane. 

It’s like everywhere he looks he sees signs of Steve and Jonathan’s… development. Steve leans forward to grab something and his eyes catch on a hickey under his collar. Jonathan sits a little too gingerly one day, and Eddie’s immediately caught up in a fiery inferno of jealousy that he’s not the one sore from whatever Steve did last night. He has to leave the room. 

It gets even worse when Steve comes by DND wearing a shirt that is clearly Jonathan’s. 

“What are you wearing?” Dustin demands before he can. It’s probably a good thing he did, Eddie might have just started biting him to stake a claim. Which is a useless thought, because Steve isn’t his to claim at all. Steve is Jonathan’s. And stake a claim he did. 

He kind of wishes he could hate Jonathan, but he can’t. The guy’s just so sweet with his brother, and it’s obvious in the way he takes care of people that he’s a good guy. The kind of guy who deserves someone like Steve. Someone would have to be a crazy, fucked-up, jealous asshole to hate him. 

Eddie is all of those things. He’s also great at lying to himself. If he doesn’t admit he hates Jonathan Byers, fellow freak, for sleeping with the most unfortunately spectacular jock imaginable, he never has to confront his own failure to keep to his code. The doctrine that Steve cheerfully set on fire and then stomped the ashes into dust. All without knowing it, the asshole. 

He really can’t blame Jonathan. Eddie’s well aware that he’s made up some weird, one-sided rivalry in his head over Steve’s affections. It’s not his fault that one of them got the guy, and the other got to scream into his pillow at 2am. 

Sure, they both said they were hung up on other people, but how long would that really last? He’s fairly sure Steve was lying about having feelings for someone. Eddie can’t help but watch him, and he’s never once seen a sign Steve was interested in any of the other men he hung out with. 

Steve colors. “It’s Jonathan’s,” he says, picking at the band tee like he’s self-conscious about it. Which is ridiculous. He obviously knows he looks good in anything. “I…uh…spilled something on mine.”

From the way he talks, Eddie has a pretty good idea what exactly got on his shirt. He takes deep breaths, and tries not to chew through the table. He wishes Steve were in his band shirt instead. He’d look great in Judas Priest merch. 

He tries not to picture him in a Corroded Coffin shirt. He fails.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

LOVE ME HARDER!

you swear your favorite color has nothing to do with kaiser. but unluckily for you, the boy’s fallen madly in love with you and has somehow convinced himself that he can connect the dots to make you fall madly in love with him. when you meet his flirting with a tough front though, kaiser has a secret weapon up his sleeve (or under his uniform collar).

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): reader’s favorite color is blue, kaiser’s tattoo isn’t super visible with his uniform in this fic

You loved blue.

You still do. And for the foreseeable future, you weren’t going to ever stop loving the color. It was a color so dear and special to you, and as much as you loved all the other colors, there was something indescribable about the blue hue.

It was everywhere. The color of the sky. The ocean. The small Google Docs icon while you scribbled down notes on your computer. A stray car in the distance while you crossed the road. It was the color of loyalty and knowledge, the cool tones even embodying the mystifying feeling of melancholy. And, if you allowed yourself to get a little pretentious and philosophical, probably the color of the universe. 

What a dignified color. You would never stop loving blue. Not ever. Certainly not now. And you would never extinguish your love of the color because of a man.

But boy, was someone making it difficult.

You always heard him before you saw him: the rumble of footsteps, Ness gushing incoherent praise, the shrill trill of German words hanging in the air. Like an overture before a grand opera, except those thirty seconds were the only prep time you’d get to turn on your heel and book it out of there if you didn’t want to say hello to your biggest headache.

“Oh, daaaarling! There you are! Hey- Don’t run away!”

An outstretched pair of arms materialized on either side of your body, and you let out a loud yelp before you were pulled backwards into a tight hug. You screeched like a feral cat, clawing helplessly at the air while a loud haughty laugh rang out against your eardrums.

It was only when you turned around that the sense of hearing gave out to the sense of sight. Beautiful strands of blond-blue hair swept across your eyes, the twinkle of his golden locks not too unlike the catlike gleam in his pupils. Speaking of his eyes, you hated the stupid bastard for how much blue he had on him and more importantly, how good it looked. Even the smug azure of his crinkled eyes made you stop breathing for just a split second, and your lips parted unconsciously as your hatred momentarily dissipated into wonder at the delicate hue.

“Staring at me? Awwwww, do you think I’m handsome? Of course you do. You wouldn't be so starstruck otherwise,” he chuckled. You instantly snapped out of your stupor, and you twisted your face into a disgusted frown.

“Take your hands off of me, you idiot,” you snarled. “I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”

“Oh? Perfect. I think that’s perfect timing to talk to you.” Kaiser kept one arm slung firmly over your shoulders, expertly placing himself at your side. You dug your heels into the ground and kept your place whenever he tried to edge you closer to his torso, egging you to relax into his touch. “Busy being a little color nerd again? I think it’s adorable that you’d pick your favorite color after me-”

“-I did not pick my favorite color after you,” you huffed. You crossed your arms, and you glared directly up at him (this time, you took extra care not to get lost in his eyes). “Do you really think I don’t have a personality or something? To pick a favorite color after a man?”

He shrugged. “Hey, I’m a pretty charming guy, if I do say so myself. Just now, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. I’d say I wear the color well. Say, if I swapped my red eyeliner out for a blue one, would that make you stare at me even more?”

You wanted to push him off, but you knew better than to engage a professional athlete in a half-wrestle-half-run-for-your-life-thing. “In your dreams. You’re an atrocious mix of colors.”

“Sure.” He easily brushed your words off. He broke out into his usual smug grin, chuckling at you as if he were a cat toying with a mouse. If he could, you swore that he’d gobble you up in one bite and leave no crumbs. “But I’d say blue is totally my color.”

Red hot annoyance flooded your body. This was so unlike you, to be moved to such anger that you’d be thinking of any color other than your favorite cyan hue, but something about this man made you want to beat him to a bloody pulp until he truly was nothing more than a mix of crimson and black and white broken bones. 

“Blue is MY color!” You grumbled. “I liked it even before I met you! Hell, I probably understand it better than you do! Dipping your hair in Kool-Aid and being born with blue eyes doesn’t automatically make blue your color! It’s my favorite color, and me liking it has nothing to do with you! Not everything revolves around you, Kaiser!”

You fumed at him, having blurted out all of the tension mounting inside of your chest. You stood there, wanting to claw off the weight of his arm across your shoulders. You wondered if Kaiser would yell back at you, if those beautiful sapphire eyes of his would narrow into small slits before he’d wind up for the pounce, if he truly would swallow you up into a void of blue nothingness just to prove you wrong.

But instead he threw his head back, and he laughed heartily.

“You’re too funny for your own good.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye with his other hand, and he barely held himself together long enough to look at you. “The world? Revolve around me? Maybe to all those other stupid commoners. Those brainless fools need a stunning star to guide them. To give them any purpose in life.”

You grimaced, skin crawling with disdain as he yanked you closer. His free hand caressed the outline of your cheeks and jaw, and you let out a small “eep!” as he hooked his fingers under your chin to gingerly lift your face to meet his. You held your breath as the German prodigy leaned in, until the silhouette of his peach-pink lips were much too close to your mouth for your liking.

“But, darling… Oh, my sweet, stupid darling…” His voice was far too smooth for your own liking. Like the lining of a regal blue mink-fur lined cape, the kind you’d see in a 1700s painting of a king, the edge you get from swallowing down a mouthful of ice water. He looked too pleased with himself, having you ensnared perfectly in his arms like this. The thick tension that hung between the two of you felt like poisoned honey, and he shook his head at you mockingly. “If anyone were to pay attention closely, they’d know that the script is much more different for you than it is for those everyday fools.”

“Don’t lump me in your weird fantasy.” You blinked at him defiantly. He pursed his lips slightly, but Kaiser didn’t waver even once. 

“All I want to say is that there’s nothing wrong in admiring beautiful things. If you like blue that much, nothing wrong with admiring the blue on me, is there? It’s unhealthy to deny yourself the things that you love so much.” He let you go finally, and you practically leapt out away from him. “If you don’t want to throw yourself at my feet and beg to play the role of my dedicated love interest, that’s fine too! Although, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to. Anyone would be honored to have my attention the way you do.”

“You’re a self-centered prick. I don’t want to give you any more attention than what I’m already wasting on you.”

“That’s what I’m saying! If you let down your high walls and properly let yourself admire me for the beautiful, charming, handsome guy I am, then it wouldn’t be a waste of your time.” He expertly flicked his hair over his shoulder, winking at you as some of the strands tumbled down his collarbones and back. As atrocious of a haircut as it was, you did have to admit that the color of his weird gradient was very pleasing to your eyes.

But you’d rather eat knives than admit it out loud. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that. Anyone can dye hair,” you muttered, thoroughly unconvinced. “And before you ask, I’m not interested in staring at your eyes either. Blue eyes mean nothing to me. And I can always go buy color contacts off the internet and stare at those instead if I really want to.”

“Boo! That’s so boring! Wouldn’t you want a real living person? Someone with personality?” He pouted.

You rolled your own eyes. “Yeah. Someone that doesn’t have a stick stuck up their ass.”

Kaiser pressed his lips into a line, suddenly lost in heavy thought. He knew your patience was already running thin with him, and while it was frustrating that the typical antics he’d lavish onto his fans wasn’t netting him the reaction he wanted from you, it still thrilled him the same. You were so tough to crack! He knew deep down that you had some heart for him and that you loved admiring beautiful things! And was he not the most beautiful thing of them all? He was skilled, talented, the kind of guy anyone should be flattered to have. All he needed was to convince you with something unique, something that no other groupie or fan of his couldn’t have, and maybe that would be the key to luring you over.

To turn that burning red hatred of yours into a calm, placated blue interest.

“Well, what if I give you something truly special then? If I could show you something that you have to admit is beautiful, would you admire me then?” He offered tentatively. You sniffed, keeping your head held high, but he took your silence to mean that it wasn’t a complete refusal.

He broke out into the biggest grin you had ever seen. Your confidence wavered slightly at his smug smirk, and nervousness prickled over your skin. You held your breath as Kaiser slowly raised his hand to his neck. Two fingers hooked onto the golden collar of his Bastard Munchen uniform, which covered a generous portion of his neck.

He yanked down. 

A flash of deep, royal blue stunned your vision, and your eyes instinctively widened. Kaiser tilted his neck to the opposite side, making sure you could catch a proper glimpse at the part of his throat that was normally concealed by his uniform. You felt like something inside of your brain had violently hit the brakes the moment the color hit your eyes. 

Roses.

Beautiful, beautiful blue roses. 

You’re automatically entranced by them. They’re tattoos, each expertly painted on his skin with a careful hand. The black outline makes the rich hues pop even more against his body, and while you tiptoe forward to catch a better view, you can only make out the better part of one of the bigger roses. The rest are covered by his uniform, and you can see the hint of inked thorns traveling away from the flowers and towards his arm. 

Kaiser instantly caught the shift in energy from you. He wisely kept his mouth shut, but some prideful part of him was celebrating inwardly. He let you step closer to admire the handiwork on his body, your curiosity delighting him to no ends.

You wanted to touch them. To touch him. Oh, you could imagine the feeling of soft rose petals under your fingertips while you were utterly mesmerized by his tattoo, almost forgetting that it was just an inked drawing rather than real flowers.

“Well? Isn’t it lovely?” 

You flinched, snapping back to life. Dumbfounded, you were at a loss for words. It was completely unlike you to not have some kind of mean comeback to snark at him with, but the secret weapon Kaiser had on hand was too much. His tattoo had overwhelmed you in a heartbeat, the artistic touch only making you want to see it again.

But unfortunately for you, he adjusted his uniform back into its regular position with a cruel smile. “See? I knew you’d like it. Do you want to look at it again? Oh, I know you do. C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want to see it again. It’s not like I’m going to refuse.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and very hesitantly, you swallowed back your pride. “Can… Can I see your tattoo again?”

“With pleasure, darling.” He cooed. He paused for a moment, and he pulled you closer towards him. You gulped nervously when he peered down at you, clearly savoring the victory he had earned by pulling wool (or in this case, a lovely tattoo) over your eyes. 

“But why don’t I take you to my room instead? I’ll take off my shirt for you. That way you can see the entire thing. And then you can fawn over me properly. You just said you wanted to see my tattoo again. Those pretty roses,” he leaned in, tempting you over and over with the fleeting memory, “Those pretty, pretty roses that are in your absolute favorite color.”

You were torn, and Kaiser reveled in that tormented expression of yours.

He held his hand out. “No need to be shy. Let me show you all sorts of beautiful blue things, my darling.”

x

[angxlofvenus]

hihi could i request something with the obey me characters with a mc that has a cat/their reactions to meeting their cat or just their pets in general?

Hi, Thank you so much for the request! As an owner to two cats myself, This was so much fun for me to write, I hope you have a great rest of your day/night :) Genre: Fluff ! Ship: The brothers/Side characters x reader (platonic Luke!) TW: cussing, Mentions of catnip, Eating catfood (Beel's section),

When You Own A Cat

Lucifer

Well, this won’t do.

He has a very strict pet policy in the HoL but for you…He may twist his words a little

Will act cordial with your cat just because he doesn’t want to upset you but like

Luci is a dog person through and through so this may be a bit of an inner struggle

Here's the thing though, I don’t think he has ever really been around a cat before

So when he starts to warm up to your furry friend…He kind of relates to the cat 😭

Listen, I think Lucifer acts a lot like a cat, Hard to get close to, Will act better than you, etc, etc

Once he and your cat get close though? They are two peas in a pod- He’ll let the cat snuggle up to him when he isn’t busy. 

Mammon

Ehhh, He isn’t too crazy either way about it, You got a cat, so what?

If y’all are dating, He’s gonna be a little clingy because he thinks the cat takes up too much of your attention in his opinion! 

Will definitely play with you’re cat though, no matter if he likes the animal or not, He finds your pet running after a laser/string hilarious!

May blame the cat for breaking things so that Lucifer doesn’t hang him from the ceiling…

Once he’s warmed up to your kitty though, They are thick as thieves

He will buy them any toy he thinks they’ll like, Will definitely buy some catnip (If you’re okay with it!) just for shits and giggles

Levi

A little skeptical at first,,, Of course you have such a normie pet!

In the beginning, He’s gonna be jealous (shocker, I know)

Can almost feel the envy coming off of him when your cat settles down in your lap

But when your cat starts to do the same things with him? Total 180°

He’s in Love! Will start watching cat-related animes and playing cat-related games

Will try to introduce them to Henry, Just don’t let them get too close…

Satan

un-HOLLLYYY SHHHIITTTT, Y’all, the moment you have been waiting for-

Minds running a mile a minute, Looks just excited on the outside, but on the inside? Oh, He.is.SCREAMING

Will ask every question there is to ask, Name, Age, birthday, breed, personality

He may just kind of…Pick the cat up and leave with them after their first interaction

Your cat will become the most spoiled being in the Devildom, Your cat shall never want anything ever again, Satan will get them everything they want, no matter how hard it is to obtain

Your kitty will kind of get roped into a bond with Satan whether they want to or not, But let’s be honest, Your cat’s gonna love him seeing as he would kill for them

Asmo

Awwwww, How cute!

As long as your cat doesn’t get into his stuff, They’ll also be instant besties

His camera roll really consists of 4 categories

Himself

You

Your cat

All three of y’all together

Will probably try to put your cat into some dumbass costume

Will buy your cat so many accessories, What do you mean they don’t need a bedazzled collar?! >:0

Snuggle buddies when you aren’t around, Yes, This does look as adorable as it sounds- 

Overall, He will love and pamper your cat all the time

Beel

Oh? You have a cat? That’s cool :) 

Loves to see how much joy they bring you, He loves seeing you happy no matter what

He has tried cat food before, both wet and dry and ain’t afraid to try it again…You should probably lock up the cat food just in case.

Will also play with your cat with like just some string, He thinks it’s cute :) 

Is honestly fascinated by your pet lowkey, He never knew how sleek most were! Is bamboozled by the whole, Landing-on-their-feet thing

They become friends pretty quickly I’d say, He makes sure to always be super gentle with them because he knows how much bigger he is than them (I am so mentally ill about him istg)

If your cat becomes interested in something he’s eating, He’ll give them a lil nibble (If it’s safe for that cat to consume ofc)

Buys a lil cat bed for his and Belphie's room, It stays at the foot of his bed 

Belphie

A cat? Ew, That sounds like responsibility

Indifferent at first, As long as he doesn’t have to really mess with it, He’s chill

But one day, He awakens abruptly (Unheard of) To your cat making biscuits on his cheek

Kiss your cat goodbye, It’s his now

Cuddle buddies, every day, all-day

Will put on those bird videos to play with your cat

The second brother I’m gonna say acts like a cat, He will literally catch himself mimicking the cat sometimes

They would so judge people together, Lucifer just entered the room their in? Side eye…

Diavolo

How sweet! He has zero qualms about your little friend

Another one that will buy pretty much everything for your cat, Y’all don’t even have to be close for him to do this, He just thinks of your cat as an extension of the exchange program, Therefor he buys them anything he thinks they need

Best of buddies when they get close to each other

Will some just walk around RAD with your kitty, Just showing them things, Will also ask for your cat's thoughts on laws in a kind of joking way, But he 100% will listen seriously if they decide to answer him with a meow

Barbatos

Doesn’t have a very strong opinion of your cat at first, He isn’t exactly a pet type of person seeing as he rarely has time for such things but in my humble opinion, I think most animals flock to this man like Snow White

Listen, This man is the definition altruistic person so I think Smaller creatures would find comfort in his presence, This is also why the Little D’s love him so much

Your cat will always look their best, Barb will trim their nails, take them to the vet, brush their fur and other things without you even having to ask

Once they become more acquainted, I can see him making some cat-safe baked treats for the kitty

Simeon

He thinks your cat is precious! Though at first will be worried about the small thing being in a place like the Devildom 

Him being an angel does change a few things, I think animals naturally flock to him as well just because of his angelic background so he and your cat are kind of just automatically BFF's 

He will always be up for loving on your cat, No matter how busy he is- He won’t ever turn down your kitty

Probably the first person you should ask to catsit, a close second being Barbatos

Solomon

They will be partners in crime even if your cat doesn’t want that

Don’t be surprised if he starts to refer to your cat as his ‘Furry apprentice’ instead of their actual name

Takes photos of your cat, but only when he finds them in a stupid position

Another contender to buy them some catnip and just watch them go crazy

Once they have warmed up to eachother, He is gonna torment this cat 24/7 almost

Luke

A cat and a chihuahua, Natural enemies!

Jkjk but not really…

He doesn’t like how stuck up a lot of cats are but he thinks your’s is pretty cute

Will ask Simeon how to pet them correctly and treat them well because he cares!

After the first few weeks he actually really warms up to your kitty

Will always ask how their doing like they are a person, no matter what.

Doesn’t admit it but he really adores your cat :(

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: 17 months “Sea legs”

“Did you really need to bring a recorder here? It's an aquarium hun. Do you really plan on interviewing yourself here?”

“It's not that, Abi. I just, with how bad my memory is, I want to make sure I have something to remember this moment.” 

“And you chose a recorder instead of a video camera because…?”

“I really want to eat the fish. This way I get to focus on your beautiful voice when I listen back.”

“...Gay.”

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it? Kiss me maybe?”

“Maybe later. Come on, I want to get to the underwater tunnel before it closes!”

“I know it's Hyper city, but it's really cool to see so many therians here. Back in Canada, I'm lucky if I see one in a week.”

“There's a lot of us, yeah.”

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just a little sad is all… 

Ok ok, I’ll talk, stop making that face, haha It’s just that, yeah there are a lot of us around. Still feels like we never get treated properly. We’re either freaks or walking tourist spots. I know things will get better eventually, but it's. I really wish I could figure out how to shapeshift into a more convincing human.

“You spent how long on this medication and now you're trying to look human again?”

“It's just useful, that's all. Besides, it's not like I have the right to call myself otherkin… Ow! Don't flick me hun, my skin is sensitive, and you could lose a finger!”

“stop overthinking things. Enjoy your time here and if anyone calls you out, then I'll kick their ass.”

“Thanks, but please don't fight anyone for me. No offense, but you're not exactly capable of doing damage to people hun… ow, ok ok stop it, ah! Haha, cut it out!”

“I'm not gonna stop until you start treating yourself better. You're my mimic girlfriend! You get to decide what you are and no one gets to tell you otherwise. Also! You have a bunch of other people here who would defend you like… is that a werewolf over there? Next to the robot and… um.”

“Pretty sure that's a cyborg, and also that looks like a black arms member?”

“Wait, like the-

“Abi, we're currently having a date in an interdimensional dead end, looking at fish that do not exist in our universe, and I'm pretty sure that fish over there is a badnik. It's really not that strange.”

“That's… fair.. I guess… Hey hun, I'm gonna go grab some ice cream real quick.”

“We're half way through the tunnel already. You sure you want to go all the way back?”

“I'll be quick, just stay put.”

Bzzzt, crackle, Welcome to the wonderful world of Hyperquarium! Thank you for choosing us as the one and only place that can bring fish together from around the worlds in perfect harmony! If you look to our left, you'll see our trained feeder get a chance to show off those gills and show you what only a shark therian can do, he's a professional so don’t worry about being bitten kids. This therian knows how to take care of others. This is also a reminder not to touch the glass as you may spook our feeder.

“Ugh, great, just what I needed, feeling insulted over an intercom. Why does getting second hand insulted have to feel worse? I'm definitely cutting this part from the recor- OW, OH STARS, WATCH WHERE YOU'RE… slithering, um, miss, are you ok?”

“Oh- I’m so sssorry I didn’t mean to, I sswear! This tail just gets sso long by now it’s… difficult for me to control at times. I uh… You haven’t seen any other Lamias around by chance? Or some people in brown uniformss?”

“Uniforms? You’re not on the run or something right? And no, I haven’t seen any other Lamias around, You’re actually the first I’ve ever really had a chance to see. I kind of thought I’d see more with how popular you guys are. But seriously are you alright?... 

Is- is that a shock collar around you?”

“Well… Yes and no- Yes thisss is a shock collar… okay uh- we’re not suppossed to call them that uh… It’s a.. “behavioral correction device”... But yess it’s a shock collar. And no, I'm not on the run… quite the opposite actually… I had a bit of an episode and lost myself in some instincts when watching the fish… and the next thing I know my group is gone and I'm.. I’m not supposed to be away from the group and… if I don't get back soon I might be in a bit of… ah ssscrew it they’re gonna be mad at me anyway… “

“So then… I know a good hiding spot to watch the fish if you want to hide a bit longer. I mean, if that’s ok, and I won’t get in too much trouble, and you won’t get in too much trouble, and I think I’m stumbling over my words, You want to just go hang out in the jellyfish room? It’s pretty dark there and they don’t allow any kind of outside lights in there.”

“Y-yeah that sounds nice! Low lightss could help with that headache. Uhm, what’s your name if i may assk?”

“It's Mayday, and what about you? What's your name?”

“Ah my name-.. It’s uh… oh wait.. I…hmm…Right! Aria… I think. I… am still not sure if I should change it… it’s uh.. complicated.”

* * *

“The jellyfish are really cool, just floating around with not a care in the world. I guess I get why humans find them so boring, but I think they're just not seeing how nice it would be. You know?”

“I totally get what you mean. Just being able to be you… going with the flow of thingss.. Not a care in the world. But that’s just something that therians like us can fully understand… other than the other animals of coursse right?”

“I'm guessing you're past your own crossroads then, like me, based on your words at least. You wouldn't mind if I asked you some questions would you? It's a bit selfish to ask after dragging you here, but I need to know something.”

“Ah well-... i am still “crossssing” it… doc said it will go on for another month or three… maybe longer they are all very vague about this stuff. But sure, I can try to answer to the besst of my ability.”

“So, what do you think of those that don't take that next step? Like the ones that decide they want to stay human in some way, aren't they cheating or something. Like they got to have their cake and eat it too, isn't it a bit unfair? I mean, look at you, you're getting escorted around in a collar by guards, and then we- they get to walk around with not a care in the world.”

“I don’t think that it’ss cheating… It is my choice to go through with it… and in the end I will be what I alwayss wanted to be… fully in both mind and sspirit. This of course will come with quite a few burdens… I am already forgetting so much that I would have loved to remember… But I alsso gain so much more which is just hard to desscribe. All I can hope for is that I ssomehow end up remembering all the faces of the ones that helped me get sso far… or at least ssome other kind of connection.  Those that however stay human to ssome degree have their own struggless to live with. For some it’s never being able to fully control yourself, alwayss having that bit in them that shines through and reminds them that they are sstill “incomplete” which can be a lot on their mind. In the end we all go our own ways, face our own struggless. No sside has it any easier I think than the other, it’s just… different, and you have to choose for yourself which sstruggles you want to deal with in the end. What you yourself think you are able to handle better. For me it was that I was just afraid that I couldn't control the animalistic sside of myself… I could just not live in this sstate i was in, i wanted to fully become me, hoping that it will set me free of the fearsss and anguish that my humanity brings me. But I know what it can cosst me… what it already has… still I weighed my options and decided that this is the best option for myself.  But if you think that where you are now is what is the best option for you, then no one should hold it against you, not even yourself… Does that make ssense?

“Wow, call me out huh. I guess I'm not as good at hiding these sorts of things as I thought. I technically went too far before I lightened my dosage. It left me, broken. Things don't feel right for either side, and I have things I just- there are things I can't let go of no matter how much I want this. It's like I'm splitting apart and I can't figure out how to be anything correctly. I'm not really Mayday, I lost all my memories in my first year. It should have been the perfect excuse to continue forward, but then I got to know Mayday's friends and family. And... I liked them, I liked them alot, I love some of them. I barely know them and when I met them for the first time it just felt right and they were crying like I died and. I can't put them through that. Not a second time. This human side of me just won't let go. I'm putting others before my own happiness again. I'm undermining your sacrifice, being a coward. Sorry I'm ruining your trip aren't I. I'll get out of your scales for you.”

“No wait! It’s okay, I’m used to doing thisss… sort of. Uhm sso… before I got put with the other Lamia’s… I was part of a group that… helped each other… there iss someone there that's a lot like you… multiple actually.. While they did not lose their memories… they stayed partly human too.. They did not continue like I did. Anyway, you’re a lot braver than me, I think.  You… lost your memoriess and still decided to stay with the ones that love you now and before, I don’t think I could have done the ssame. You’re still happy with them now aren’t you? I mean… the way you said it, it’s not just others happiness at stake but your own too. Sso… heh.. I don’t really know where I'm going with thiss but I think you’re brave.”

I can't believe I'm talking about all this with a complete stranger, solidarity is a powerful thing. Who knows, maybe we did know each other at some point and just forgot. But thanks. It doesn't fix how I feel, but it's a good bandage for now. In the meantime we can watch the Jellyfish together until you're ready to go back…

“Did you hear that announcement a little while back? Nice to see therians getting hired here but way to not only turn it into another tourist spot, but also insult all of us at the same time. Can you believe they actually said all that?”

“Oh my god yesss! How do you actually manage to be ssupportive and a total a-hole at the same time!? Urgh… It’s not just here though… god the way they sometimes announce our exhibit is just… urgh something about staying on the paths and not getting too close without sssupervision… like-... As if they don’t almosst OVERFEED us before so we aren’t even in the mood to hunt… and then these stupid collarsss too.. Sigh I thought this stuff is to make us get away from the negative ssstigma.. Not FEED into it..”

“Wait, I'm sorry, did you say exhibit? Like as in… you're part of a zoo attraction? Y'know, if I was still human, I would be throwing up at that. Is that why you're wearing a collar?! That can't be legal. Like when you say exhibit, you mean like they put you in walls that you can’t ever leave without people acting like handlers? That's disgusting!”

“Ah-... y-yeah? Well okay, it ssounds bad when put like that but… okay that's uh kinda the best option? It was either… have ssome other person keep me like a pet.. Definitely no, be put into the wilds far away from civilization and be not allowed within a certain disstance of any human civilization… also big nono in my eyes.. or… Join the lamia exhibit in the zoo. I’d still be allowed to see my friends… or, well, have them visit me at leasst… I can help fix the kinda negative view people have of Lamias ssince most think of the evil folklore… or video games…  I get to live with others of my kind in a gated community… food is taken care of… healthcare too… kinda… Honestly it was the besst of the options I was given… All I gotta deal with is people looking at uss all day… the stupid collarsss, handlerss… yeah… Maybe one day laws change, that we do not have to sign some legal ownership document stuff and can be free in the city as well… but until then… that’s how it hass to be.”

“I guess I understand, but that just sounds horrible to me. You can put up with a lot, if that’s what you're handling every day. Speaking of, are you going to be ok? Either your guards find us and something bad happens to you, or I jump in and take the blame for essentially kidnapping this zoo's pet. Either option doesn't sound particularly fun. Stars, I thought after finishing this transition I wouldn't have to deal with all this negativity. Somehow Hyper city ended up being just as bad as back home, only it's bad in different ways. This sucks. Is there really no other option that's better? I thought that lamias had intelligence comparable to humans, are your instincts really so strong that you'd endanger humans around you?”

“Don’t worry, they are gonna be quite mad at me, and i’m probably going to have to wait quite ssome time before they allow me my next outside trip… but as long as I sstay put, and don’t get in any situation that could be interpreted as me being a danger… they will probably not use the shock collar when they find me.  Well… the besst outcome would have been if at least they put my legal ownership to one of my friendss but… I wouldn't have wanted them to see me sslowly forget who I was and all the other legal stuff it brings with it… not to mention that most of them are therianss on HRT themsself so the state probably would gatekeep that somehow too. And please don’t put the blame on yourself, that would probably give a hefty fine if not jail time… rather leave the option open to see you again at the exhibit than have you banned from it. At leasst then I get visitors I know and like! And as for our insstincts… It’s difficult… yes they can be overwhelming but they get more manageable after the crossroads… At least that's what I heard from a friend. Ssomething about being more aware of them subconsciously. But for our intelligence being comparable to humans, that's true but mix it with our statuss being non human… and laws haven’t developed that far yet… we are basically categorized as animals. And with people being afraid of our fangs, ssnake parts and all that, I don't see it changing soon.”

“Oh that is so gross, I can't believe the universe would let something like that even happen. Sometimes I wish I could just bite anyone who ticked me off. But you're probably right. About everything I guess. I hate the idea of a place like that existing, but I'd rather not get in trouble and not have the chance to talk again. You're strangely nice to talk to, also I don't think I could afford bail if I got arrested. I probably would lose my chance to work with Erian if that happened. Maybe I can do some protesting in front of city hall instead… I also want to ask about that old support group of yours, and also… hm, maybe I shouldn't chew your ear off right. If you don't get into too much trouble, we could meet up to chat more? I'll make today up to you, if the zoo allows it I could get you a plush at the gift shop.”

“Ah-.. uhm… no… trust me that you do NOT want that… it’ss… no… you’ll not forget the taste… ever… *sigh* Anyway thank you that’s nice to hear, you’re also a lot of fun to talk to. A nice change of pace. Protesting could help! Make our voice heard~  I’d love a visit and another chance to talk too! The plushie would be lovely. As for my old ssupport group.. Yeah they are nice, you should really go and talk to them. We have an online presence so jusst look for… Therian THEMS support group!  There’s… a… white tiger… her name… uh… damn come on i know thissss… white tiger… and… brown… nghhh… come on COME ON I KNOW their… their namessss i know them…”

“Don't worry, it's fine. I live at THEMS actually, I didn't realize they had a support group. I sort of never checked around, and don't worry, I don't actually bite people… usually. Come on, we can try to sneak over to the gift shop and… um hey Aria, sorry if it's rude to ask but, well it's just a thought is all. Have you had a chance to see what you look like?”

“I-... I’m sssorry it’s… yeah. Yeah let’ss get there… Wait what i look like?... Now that you mention it… I kinda forgot my own face… not really any mirrorss around in the enclosure… we usually help each other with hairstyling and so on. Why do you ask?”

“Would you like to see yourself right now?”

“I… I mean sure? Iss there like a mirror around here or…”

“Supplemental: I had Erian’s help splicing the tapes together, He’s good with old stuff like this. I wanted to add this to better describe the scene. I want no possible chance I will forget this..

Ok, here goes. Descriptor: Morphing like that felt nice, I’d never done anything like that before, but, it just worked out. It felt like body and mind actually agreeing for the first time since I became a mimic. The faint pale glow of the jellyfish felt like it was a radiant sun illuminating not just the room but my shifting form. My mind felt complete. Sharp. Morphing into something with my human remains and mimic self in agreement for the first time. This state of change I went through, this was what I was meant to have. I could feel my legs twist and fuse into a tail that grew longer and longer. Teeth moved from my body and incorporated into fangs and claws. I could feel the chemical reaction inside of me as poison turned to venom. I never looked away, I didn't close my eyes. I just kept looking back at Aria, understanding every crease and shine in her scales. It was then I finally realized how much I had always wanted to be a mimic. This felt correct. The feeling faded eventually, but I knew I had morphed myself into a perfect copy of Aria, because when I looked at her I felt happy. Did the medication somehow know this is what I truly needed? I need more time to think. End supplemental.”

“Thisss- You’re- I- woah! This is uh- I’m sssorry I’m blown away by thiss! This is what I look like!? Wait before that- You’re a shapeshifter? I- Oh my. Thank you! I-... this feels a bit weird to asssk someone that currently looks like my exact twin but-... can i… you know… give you a hug for thisss!? I mean… looking at you it’ss… looking at everything i ever wanted to be I-... sssorry that wass a weird thing to asssk someone i jusst met earlier I-... Thanksss”

“You can give us a hug if you like. We don't mind being ssstrangers. Oh, we do that too, interessting. Eheheh, but yesss, you may hug.”

“Yeah you get usssed to it~ Okay then uh-... here we go. Thank you.”

“I think I hear people coming. I need to change back before any of those guards see two of you. Glad you enjoyed getting to hug a squishier version of yourself. I must feel like a marshmallow. Oh wait, I think my partner is gonna kill me if I leave her waiting any longer.”

“Haha~ I guess we both are going to get our ears chewed off by ssome people. It wass very nice getting to meet and talk to you Mayday, and I hope to see you again! Just… don’t take it to heart if I end up having to assk your name again or… worsse okay? Oh- and if you meet the people from the ssupport group… tell them i sssaid hi.”

“Will do, you better stay safe then, and don’t you dare end up regretting your choice, you got that! Enjoy your new life, and hopefully it won’t just be within a zoo someday. If you ever need to ask my name again, then I’ll be sure to ask yours as well. I look forward to meeting you again Aria the lamia.”

“Yes, I will do my besst to do that. I look forward to meeting you again too, Mayday the Mimic.”

* * *

“Abi, I’m back!”

“Oh my god where were you! I called like eight times! I thought something might have happened to you!”

“Sorry, sorry, I got caught up in a weird situation, I met a new friend I guess. You’d like her. she was really nice… Ok, yeah I’ll make it up to you. Really sorry for making you worry like that. Let’s go out to eat. This place kinda sucks. What about that sushi place you wanted to go to a couple months ago! I’ll pay for it.”

“You seem awfully cheery all of a sudden

“I just figured out who I am. That’s all.”

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Hey, hope you enjoyed what I think is the longest chapter by far. Normally I try to stick with two pages of text to get something that most people can keep their attention on. Not really possible here.

I'd like to take this time to thank @ariathelamia for collaborating with this chapter. She's so cool and you should go follow her right now. Do it right now. Do not finish reading this part until you double check you are following her and reading her Lamia HRT story!

Anyway, I'd also like to point out the cameos/mentions for Tiger HRT and ??? HRT by @tigergirltail and @home-sweet-hive, respectively. Both are extremely good and give me the inspiration to continue writing this story every single day. This story would have probably stopped around the fifth or sixth part without them. So you should go read those stories right now as well. Do it. Seriously though, thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day.

-Navi

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Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: I've been havin' dreams

A/n: I've been stuck in this goddamn dream for like a month now, and you're bordering between the concept of God's blessing and sin's curse. I cling to your scarlet satin shirt like it's my last and only salvation, nearly ripping it off you, and you don't even mind.

Written on Billie's point of view, I'm just interested in experimenting with the presentation of the text.

"'BITTERSUITE'? Well, it sounds delicious just from the name alone," you purr in my ear, and I nearly jump two feet up in my chair in surprise, scattering all the thoughts and melodies going around in my head to dust. Shit.

Your short laugh, the palm of your hand that gently outlines my shoulder - that's all you are. And it's impossible to take offense at you, because you immediately draw a sincere "I'm sorry" in the air with just one lips, sitting down on the table, and I know you didn't do it on purpose, it just happened. A brief glance at you instantly turns into an uncompromising infinity.

"Finneas told me to tear you away from the monitor, and I fully support it." - You're slipping your leg over your foot, which in those straight-cut black pants is a total crime against my peace. - "You've both already done an incredible amount today, and it's barely lunchtime."

Nod silently in response, but my eyes only go higher. Past the supposedly aged eco-leather belt, I meet the expensive sheen of scarlet satin. The slightly carelessly arranged collar and neckline hiding the glitter of the pendant and, more importantly, your tantalizing collarbones.

"What, you like it that much, Eilish?" - the smirk on your face puts an intimate stroke on my heart, and I realize I've been staring at you too openly, for too long.

"Sometimes I wish I could erase all my pictures from the covers and put you in there, my girl," I cling to my desk with my hand (but wish I could cling to your damn collarbones) to pull myself up and move closer along with the office chair.

"Don't talk me into it, honey. Get away from the monitor and give yourself a well-deserved rest."

"Already ripped off, thanks for your presence," - the chair is a thing of the past, with the new tactic coming in. I come as close to you as possible, hands resting on either side of you. Behind you is a plethora of music equipment, in front of you is me. You're trapped, Y/n. - "And do you really think my compliments aren't sincere?"

The corner of your lips twitch as the smirk that was cheekily painted on your beautiful face is replaced by an embarrassed smile, and you look away. My hand touches your chin, bringing eye contact back. Be brave to the end, girl. Not like me.

"You can be expected to do anything when it comes to music."

"Only music?" - my fingers feel a pleasant coolness touching the collar of your shirt. A smile appears on face. It's invariable when you're around.

"Okay, me too," you chuckle warmly. You watch my movements with undisguised interest as I remove a few rings from my fingers.

"And yet what is the reason? Suddenly, the Met Gala was announced, and neither I nor my managers are aware?".

"Shut up!" - You cluck funny and ruffle my hair, wanting to hide the growing embarrassment. - "Your mom asked me to help her with a deal regarding a charity stock package."

"'Support And Feed'?" - I methodically slip my rings onto your fingers, one by one. The finishing touch is to intertwine our fingers into a lock, creating perfect symmetry.

"Absolutely right." - You bring our interlocked hands to your lips, showering them with short kisses. So trembling. - "И... Thanks for the compliments, really."

"Will you kiss me for this?" - I raise an eyebrow, catching the sparkle in your eyes.

And you kiss. Just because we both want it, other reasons are crumpled sheets of paper, something empty and unnecessary. Nibbling on your lower lip, pulling it back a little, pressing you closer to me when the only obstacle is only our clothes - this is my ambrosia. You throw your arms around my neck, burning yourself against the cold of the massive silver chain even through the thin satin, and I just grab your hips, tearing a ragged exhale from your hot lips. A pathetic plea for more in front of the eyes of affairs and circumstances.

"I have to go, Eilish..."

"Do you know I'm always crazy short of you?" - I take a moment to leave the hot touch of my lips on your neck. A new hitched exhale. The knot below your stomach slowly tightens, fiering.

"I know." - You hug me so tightly, completely disarming me with a feeling of all-consuming comfort. - "Still, try not to stay up too, okay? I'll be back late."

You disappeared out the door of my home studio half an hour ago, and I can still see the air trembling between us before you say it and I steal another hungry kiss. I lean back tiredly in my chair and shield my eyes from the blue light of the monitor while my fingers touch the keys of the midi keyboard in a half-sleep and your lips form an eloquent "love you" over and over again. Do you love my fears, too?

×××

The huge tiered chandelier was blinding, and the staircase in front of me twisted into a labyrinth with an incalculable number of ebony steps and equally incalculable meters of carpeting. Everything is as it should be: fabulously expensive carpeting, wood paneled walls, complete with ornate bas-reliefs, and as if that weren't enough - stained glass gilded lamps on the walls. The white light is irritating to the point of grinding teeth, and even if you try to cover your eyes - everything is absolutely useless.

I don't even try to get up from my knees, knowing that any effort will come to nothing. Something presses me so hard to the ground that there is no point in resisting: hundreds of attempts have yielded no result, so why resist, knowing the outcome? The only thing that gives an imaginary feeling of freedom is the feeling of baggy clothes on the body. Sneakers, long-sleeved shirt, pants, all white. And that only adds fuel to the furnace of irritation. The helplessness and the maddening whiteness. And your figure staring down at me, unreachably perched on the steps.

I've been stuck in this goddamn dream for like a month now, and you're bordering between the concept of God's blessing and sin's curse. Everything is unchanging, chiseled with detail in my memory, but not today. Your perpetually naked silhouette, taut as a string in a Stradivarius violin, today is swathed in the red satin of a weightless shirt and raven wing pants. My gaze clings to the silver glint playing on your devilish fingers: not magic, but my rings.

If things aren't the same today, will you be my long-awaited salvation?

"Open up the door for me." - mechanically and without a second thought. I know what I'm going to say, I know what you want to hear. I am but a defenseless lamb before you, a bowed-down bigot.

"Why should I?" - the flames of madness dance in your eyes. Your ringed hand touches the cold, spotless lacquered railing.

"'Cause I'm still on my knees, I'm stayin' off my feet."

And you descended lower, shaking the ghostly silence of the foyer with the stern sound of the heels of your shoes. Step by step, step by step. You keep your eyes on me, but I'm not lagging behind, looking at you as if I'm going to take you into my storm, the blue shards of my exhausted eyes. The closer you get, the higher I have to lift my head, just until you grab my chin imperiously. I catch a reflection of myself in your eyes: blue shards sharper than ever, ready to surrender to you at any moment, just say the word. I see the way you want me, I wanna be the one.

"Just want you to touch me..."

"Anything else?" - you snap your fingers and my throat immediately begins to tear with pain. You're depriving me of oxygen, it'll be over soon. The rings on your hand still glow hungrily. My rings.

"I've been overseas." - Like someone dragging a rusty chain across the floor, a wheeze cutting through my hearing, pushing the words out on the last volume of oxygen. - "I don't need to breathe when you look at me, all I see is green."

"So tell me for real." - Something you've never said before.

Click! And you disappear, a hazy haze dissipating into the air. I clutch at my throat, as if that will help me hold on to the last bits of oxygen. My eyes blur and pure panic runs through my veins.

"Billie!"

The foyer becomes a huge mosaic, disintegrating into a network of many cracks. Concrete crumbs are falling from the ceiling, and the gigantic chandelier is shaking to an outrage, wanting to fly down, glass fragments spread across the floor.

"Billie!"

And I finally take my first loud breath.

×××

I jerk out of bed, clutching at your scarlet satin shirt like it's my last and only salvation, almost tearing it off you, and you don't even mind. You wrap your arms around me like a lost child, stroking my head, whispering something, and I can't focus. I can't piece together the stained glass of my dreams and reality, so I just tearfully snuggle into your chest, seeking refuge like you're Noah's Ark.

"Shh, I'm right here, Billie, it was a dream." - You smell like night and street and ink. Wrapping my arms and legs around you, just so you don't leave again.

You don't ask me what I was dreaming about, just rocking me in your arms like a baby, telling me over and over that it's just a dream, offering me water. It's only when the two of us are on the bed, right on the blanket that was knocked over in the panic of the nightmare, that I tell you everything. You remain silent, listening intently, while I undo the buttons of your shirt. One by one, like a meditation.

"Who am I to you?" - A whisper in the dark when you are left completely unclothed. - "Who am I, along with all my fears?"

"L'amour de ma vie," - you whisper confidently as you gently touch your lips to my forehead.

L'amour de ma vie...

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Protecting my best friend

PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1K

SUMMARY | All of the Avengers are going to a bar, and Steve is keeping a close eye on the man who is trying to get your attention. He is trying his hardest to keep his cool, but he won't hesitate to intervene when things go too far, and you're getting uncomfortable.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Protective Steve, a SHIELD agent making sexist jokes about women, non-consensual touching (not sexual, just physical), and broken bones.

A/N | I would absolutely love to write more for Steve, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thank you in advance! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

''Dude, you really need to calm down, everything is okay!'' Sam says as he looks at the scowl on Steve's face. He's been watching you and the man you're talking to like a hawk because he doesn't want anything to happen to you. ''I don't know, she seems uncomfortable,'' he says as he's looking at the SHIELD agent you're talking to. You're completely fine, but Steve has always been very protective of you since you joined the team. While you're talking to the agent you keep looking over to Steve, and you have noticed he keeps staring at you, so you excuse yourself for a moment to talk to him.

''Steve, you honestly have a bigger staring problem than Barnes,'' you say with a sigh as you're standing in front of him. Everyone at the table chuckles at your remark, and you're getting a soft ''Hey!'' from Bucky, but he laughs too. ''I'm absolutely fine, so can you please just let me finish my conversation with Connor before you start burning holes into the back of my head?'' you ask him and he nods, grabbing his drink and turning back on the stool he's sitting on so he's facing the other Avengers again.

You walk back to the agent you were having a conversation with. ''I'm so sorry for that, Connor, Captain Rogers was just worried,'' you say with a small smile, and he nods. ''It's okay, but I would be worried too if I were him. I wouldn't let such a gorgeous lady like yourself talk to other men,'' he shrugs and now you are getting a little uncomfortable even though he called you gorgeous. The two of you carried on your conversation, but he kept making more sexist remarks like that and now you honestly wish Steve was looking your way. ''Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom,'' you say and you're starting to walk away, but he doesn't let you as he grabs your arm.

You let out a small whine at the feeling of him squeezing your arm like that, and due to Steve and his super soldier hearing, he can hear you perfectly fine. His head snaps to the side in an instant and when he sees what is happening, he pulls Bucky off of the stool next to him and he immediately follows Steve. ''Are you okay, Pumpkin?'' he asks and you shake your head, because Connor is still holding your arm pretty tightly, making tears stream down your face. Steve grabs Connor's arm and in an instant, he lets go of your arm, Bucky pulls you away from him and out of the way so he can take care of you.

''How bad does it hurt, doll?'' Bucky says as he inspects the place on your upper arm where Connor squeezed you. ''It mostly burns, but that's it. But I was really scared, he was okay one minute but when I came back he made all these sexist remarks about me and women in general and when I excused myself to go to the bathroom he didn't let me,'' You explain, the tears streaming down your face more steadily now. ''Oh doll, I'm so sorry about what happened,'' he says as he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he shields you with his body from what is happening behind the two of you.

Steve dragged Connor outside by his collar and pushed him into an alley, so they wouldn't be seen. You ran after the both of them at first but Bucky was quick enough to stand in front of you since you didn't want to go back inside. ''I just can't believe he's doing this, he has no right to be jealous. I get that he was making sexist remarks and everything, but Steve is going too far now,'' you say, softly sobbing into Bucky's chest. ''Doll, I promise you he's not doing it because he's jealous, he's just extremely protective over you. I get that it looks like he's jealous, but he isn't,'' Bucky says, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

You're well aware that Steve has always been protective - and sometimes even possessive - over you, but you didn't mind until tonight. You could hear grunts and the sounds of broken bones coming from behind the thick wall of muscle your cheek was pressed up against, and it only made you sob harder into Bucky's chest, you never meant for any of this to happen. Not long after you can hear Connor groan so you know he's still alive, and Bucky's body quickly gets replaced with Steve's as he pulls you into his arms this time. ''I'm so sorry you had to hear all of that Pumpkin,'' he says against your hair, but all you can do is cry into his chest.

''C'mon, let's go back to the Compound so you can calm down a little, okay?'' Steve says and you nod. The Compound isn't far from the bar where you were so he just picked you up and carried you there, and Bucky informed everyone inside the two of you went back. ''Can I sleep in your bed tonight? Don't want to be alone,'' you ask and Steve nods. ''Of course, Pumpkin,'' he says, and when the two of you reach his bedroom, he sets you down on the bed and he hands you one of his old t-shirts to sleep in. He goes to the bathroom to change in there so you could have some privacy as you changed into the shirt Steve gave you, which was way too big but it smells like him so it's okay.

''Can I come back in?'' Steve asks and you say that he can. You already went and laid down under the covers, and not long after Steve slipped in beside you. You move over to him and your head finds his place on his chest, your leg put over his. His arms are around you and pulling you closer before he puts a soft kiss on your forehead. ''Thank you for protecting me, it means a lot,'' you say and Steve just smiles. ''Everything for my Pumpkin,'' he says, and your eyes fall shut as sleep is taking over quickly when you're wrapped in his warm body acting like your personal heater. You have a nice dreamless sleep and feel well-rested in the morning, and you're even more thankful for Steve saving you now.

[heeheesang]

ɾiȥȥɱαƚch | friends day!

(mentions of punching! and blood!)

“hey guys..! sorry for coming late,” i apologised as we walked up to the group, making eye contact with everyone but harua. “fashionably late..! look at the outfit, you ate and slayed!” pharita exclaimed as i blushed and looked down.

“soo.. let’s get this party started?” minju announced as we all yelled and ran into the mall with laughters. we were divided into two groups. first group was ricky, jungwon, minju and pharita. second group was wonyoung, riki, harua and myself. we agreed to have fun before meeting and cooling ourselves down by watching a movie at the cinema.

“why do you look so nervous, pretty?” riki suddenly asked when he realised i was walking behind the three of them. i smiled, “nothing much… just worried about our friends if they… don’t get along well.” i lied, riki pulled on my wrist to make me stop walking and face him as he bent down to even out our heights, “princess… i’m sure everything will be fine, yeah? don’t worry alright?”

i nodded my head as he smiled warmly at me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we walked behind the two. it was obvious that wonyoung was trying to get something out of harua, but he wasn’t budging. riki and i on the other hand, were window shopping as we slowly walked down the shops, smiling as saying random things such as, ‘that’s us!’

“i need to use the restroom real quick,” riki said as the three of us nodded, wonyoung leaving soon enough to the restroom as well. it was just harua and i left so i took my phone out and scrolled through my twitter page.

“pretty, huh?” a voice called out from behind my shoulder as i yelled and hid behind harua, which i wasn’t so sure why as well. it was him, anton.

“don’t hide behind me.” harua harshly said as he pushed me towards anton and made sure i was in anton’s arms before anton tried to drag me away despite my yelling.

passerby’s saw and ignored, whispering into each others ears as i yelled continuously. “stop yelling, pretty girl…”

“stop..! anton..! fucking let me.. go!” i yelled out as i tried to bite his hand but he slapped me across the face, “and who are you to—“

“she said to fucking let her go didn’t she.” riki suddenly appeared out of nowhere and pushed anton to the ground, holding my wrist and pulling me behind him. his tone was filled with anger and his ears were red. i could basically see a dragon in front of me, but because of my cloudy eyes, i wasn’t able to.

“there he is.. her prince charming..!” anton smirked as he walked closer to riki.

“get closer to me and i’ll push you off this level, anton.”

“and if i don’t? i just want my girl back.”

“first off, she’s not your girl and she never will be, ever again. second of all, you should really get out of here and never disturb us again or else.” riki threatened as he gripped onto anton’s collar and lifted him off the ground slightly.

“woah.. scary..! almost peed my pants. i’ll be back for you yn, i always will. this time, with a plan and a partner.” anton immediately ran off once he was on the ground again.

riki on the other hand, immediately turned his attention on me. “are you okay princess? did he touch you anywhere? did he hurt you? where did he come from? gosh, i’m so sorry i should’ve came out faster and i shouldn’t have left you alone. i’m sorry i couldn’t be any faster princess. i’m so sorry pretty,” riki said as i hugged him tightly.

“i’m fine now riki, thank you. and you didn’t do anything wrong so don’t apologise okay? i shouldn’t have been alone with harua after seeing— nevermind.”

“what princess…” riki pulled away from the hug as he pulled me to a seat nearby.

“i saw harua… and anton when we arrived earlier on… he was like passing anton some money, and i didn’t want to tell you because he’s your friend and i don’t want to break your friendship or anything like that and— and he pushed me closer to anton just now… i tried to hide behind him but he just pushed me towards anton…“

“oh princess… my poor ynnie… i’ll talk to harua. do you still want him to be around or shall we just call it a day..? we can always have gatherings another day…” riki asked as he wiped my tears and smiled sweetly at me.

“i don’t want the perfect day to be ruined so… let’s just go on.”

“i promise to be by your side at all times princess.”

“i like you riki.”

“i like you even more, ynnie.”

masterlist | back | next

taglist— @illvding @mxxnintheskyreblogs @whoiss4m @yoonzns @lukesboo @shewoop @yourgirlzeyy @yourssincerely-mimi @wonkixo @sol3chu @n1k1mura @nctsshoes2 @dimplewonie @kookify @rikisgeef @ilovejeongin007 @nan-lzzn @speedymiraclecloud @pkjay @wk20 @soobs-things

hhs’ notes! short update before i go for my short trip..! hope you all enjoyed this chapter🫶🏻💞

[bonny-kookoo]

Looooove Unstable.

I was thinking about a drabble where OC has a wet dream at her cage, and jk watches but at first don’t understand and get worried thinking she is hurt untilllllll he is not worried anymore…

(I think with her cage you mean her room in JKs ship haha) ((also oof I gotta make all the GIFs myself now since the videos are still too new haha)

-> Masterlist

When your vital signs change, the ring on his finger displays a small message, alerting him of something being off.

He'd gotten the device recently just to soothe his own mind a little concerning your safety- and it worked. You seemed pretty cool with it too, now wearing your collar a lot more often after he'd bought a smaller transponder for it that's not as heavy and clunky than the old one, along with a softer, more comfortable to wear collar in general that's not so.. basic.

It's an investment for the future, down the line. He was serious with himself when he decided to keep you until you want to leave. So why not at least make your stay more comfortable?

Pulling the feed of your vitals up on his control screen, he notices your heart rate in particular having gone up. He's a little worried- are you scared? If yes, what's frightening you? He knows that humans get nightmares- and that they can terrify them so badly that they can actually die from it. So of course he's worried now.

But when he does what he always keeps as a last resort, which is turning on the surveillance camera of your room, he's caught off guard by what he sees.

You're indeed asleep. Clearly dreaming. But with the way you're.. moving, sheets between your legs, lips parted, hips slowly moving back and forth, it's clear that your dream isn't one of terror, but pleasure.

And he's not sure what to think of it.

He almost instantly shuts down the camera again the second he realizes what he's watching- but the image doesn't leave him even after the feed simply displays the message 'Disconnected'.

He's never looked at you in a more.. sensual sense. He's never thought of you as a potential partner, even just in a sexual sense. Would you even be able to last through the ordeal? Maybe. You seem to have good stamina after all.

Why is he even thinking about that?

It's not like you're interested in him like that. Or that he's interested in you like that. It's probably just natural- considering he himself hasn't had any.. sexual relief for quite a while now, it's only normal he's seeing you as a potential partner. And the fact that you're visually attractive to him, only adds to his primal instincts.

And you? Well, he takes your behavior as somewhat of a compliment. You must feel very safe to let yourself go like that. And he'd be an asshole to interrupt your.. private time like this.

So he rather just keeps an eye on your vitals, can't help but laugh when they normalize again, before he notices a blinking light signaling the shower in your room is in use.

Well, he hopes you at least had a good time-

Because he needs a cold shower.

Ice cold.

[emmyrosee]

GUESS WHO’S BACK!!! WITH ANOTHER RANT!!! your resident haikyuu simp, that’s who. (a simp who is currently listening to her friend argue w her bf send help this is so awkward)

Today I offer: sunarin teasing a (slightly) jealous reader.

Okay so let’s just say that your relationship was more on the private side- no one outside of friends, his teammates and family knew he was dating anyone. But you’ve been together for so long?? Like years. And his fans for some reason seem to think he’s been dating some other public figure (up to your imagination) bc they’ve been at the same events a couple times now and somehow keep ending up in pics together. These two have like, never spoken aside from awkward small talk to be polite. Very un-relationship like. So anyway. You’re starting to not like the fact that every single time you open social media you’re flooded with fan pages shipping them, and Suna picks up on this and just??? Posts you one day??? Randomly??? And it’s both the sweetest and most annoying thing ever bc aww cute caption and stuff but “really, rin, did you NEED to add the picture of us from two years ago when my hair looked like that?” (He might have also posted a suggestive pic of you two or a video of you kissing or something at the end and you just haven’t scrolled that far yet so he basks in the peace and hides away before he can hear your shriek when you realize hehe)

Either way it’s sweet and things calm down after that, but he teases you RELENTLESSLY about the fact you were jealous and makes it known that you’re the only one for him ever. and that he would never even make you jealous on purpose or anything, he just likes the feeling of belonging to you as much as you belong to him <3

I’m just soft for rin, my next couple rants might be suna-centric :3

anon <3

WOULD LIGHT MYSELF ON FIRE FOR ONE (1) SUNA RINTARO, HE IS THE LOML AND I WILL ABSOLUTELY DEVPUR ALL THE RINTARO RANTS-

Ahem.

He’s a shit. I love him so much.

Because like, yeah, okay, paparazzi are the worst, and while he’s still able to live his life like a standard person, he knows what people do to celebrities who are in relationships, and he doesn’t want to put you through that. Your friends respected that, his teammates completely close lipped -atsumu actually has it in his interview agreements he’s never to talk about any relationships, and honestly, it’s been a life saver for so many of his teammates- but nothings perfect.

Sometimes, like an idiot, Rin leaves the house with hickeys on full display. Just. Out and about. The media loves that, and usually, Rintaro doesn’t even care, whatever makes them happy.

But then it happens.

He gets out of a limo at a sponsor event, with a ‘mysterious woman,’ dress shirt wrinkled and tux closed haphazardly.

And of course, a hickey just above the pristine white collar.

This. Blows. Up.

Because of course it does, and of course people now assume this woman is the one who leaves marks on your boyfriends body, and how cool he is for dating someone uNdErGrOuNd and whatever the bloody hell they try to spew.

And it hurts, okay, because this woman- Atsumu’s stylist, literally because the man child can’t go one damned day without spilling something on himself, and that’s actually why she was helping Rin, dumbass spilt champagne all over his-damn-self- is very obviously not his partner, you are, and it’s just. It sucks watching them get fan edits and theories on how long they’re been together when you know the truth.

It turns you pretty sour towards him, almost resentful, and he tries to remind you that it’s just a rumor and you’re the only soul he’d ever want to be with, but it gets hard to believe when you open your Instagram and it’s about how stunning “Rin’s girlfriend” is.

And you, obviously, are not that person. You’re you.

Instead of sitting together, you’re sitting on one end of the couch, far from him; he tries to snuggle, and you get up and leave the room. Instead of holding his hand in the car, his hand tries desperately to paw for yours or even your thigh, just to hold onto you, but you turn towards the window. Instead of going with him places when he goes to see his buddies, you croak out an extremely sad “how about you go with the pretty lady who gives you hickeys?”

He feels bad for you, obviously. But in his own mind, he’s at his breaking point. He needs your attention and affection, he thrives and breathes and lives because of it, and now he’s losing his mind that he hasn’t had it for weeks.

So, against telling you, and hoping to smother any other rumors about himself and Atsumu’s stylist, he makes his post.

None of them have your whole face, maybe an eye or a smile or wearing a mask (he put some thought into this okay-) but it’s very obviously not the stylist. He posts a picture of a shadow in which your hands are holding, the next one is a picture you took, where your hand was shaped in half a heart and on the other end, he held up the other half to match, and finally, a video; one where he’s laying on top of you with his eyes closed, your hand in his hair and scratching his scalp while he sleepily mumbles how much he loves you (the last video is actually one he took of you suckling and marking up his neck, his raspy breath on the other end; extremely not safe for the internet, and naturally, when you saw that, you shit your pants and chased him with a shoe, but that’s not the point.)

It’s something he clearly wanted to fix, but also wanted to keep you as safe as possible. And you certainly appreciate it, and when you see what he did and how the comments are now hyping you up, you shuffle your way to find him. He’s on the couch, carding his own hair, and smiling up at you as you approach him.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he shifts one of the legs sprawled out on the couch to rest on the floor so you can lay between them, which you do. “I hated being so far from you but… but I couldn’t-“

“I get it,” he assures, nosing softly at you. “It wasn’t fair to you. I know how much you hated it.”

“She was very pretty, though,” you confess, and he lowers his eyes to peek at you through his lashes.

“You think so?” He asks, shrugging as you nod. “Wasn’t really my type.”

[pippytmi]

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?” 

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint. 

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.

[venomous-qwille]

Hi!

I was curious on what inspired you when designing Nova. The design is so unique that it’s got me wondering!

Ough um, I didn't really have a specific inspiration? I just knew the character backstory and attitude going in and wanted to create some fun shape language and feeling that would support that! Like, thinking logically about how one might mod a robot like that for illicit fighting etc. Here is an example of my brainflow: spikey shape language means danger, lets do that > chainsaw rays are funny and fun and would work > lets add dangerous looking spikes to the knees > okay but that would destroy his clothes often > okay so they make him wear pants that are just garbage bags and stop his clothes tearing off by sealing them with ducktape > denim is a nice element for him because of his backstory and I dont see myself using it in another character > popped collar cool > wifebeater tanktop is cheap and can show off the staining > small details on his shirt could be safety pins > safety pins are used as a part of one of his mods > what other mods? > maybe he is modular, lets make him an amputee > and so on so forth That's a little incoherent but yeah, thats the general logic I used designing Nova/characters in general.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - A Weekend Away

The Tower - A Weekend Away

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 3728

Warnings:  smut (FMM Bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, train)

Synopsis:  Steve, Tony, and Elly go away for their first public appearance after the groups outing.  Tony tries to make their weekend away special for all of them.

Author’s Note: Requested by hopefullylost13 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place after the end of The Tower.

A Weekend Away

By a funny series of events, the first official public outing that any of us did in our relationship after Tony had spilled the beans about us being in a polycule was when Steve, Tony, and I attended a gala in DC about Climate change.  Steve, Tony, and Bruce had been invited to be key speakers at the event, and at the time of their invitation, we were still trying to push the narrative that I was just in a relationship with Tony.   So I was supposed to go with all three of them as Tony’s date.  However, when the bomb dropped, Bruce freaked out and refused to make any public appearances until the story had cooled off.  He needed the public to get used to the idea of us all being together, just in case the stress of being bombarded by questions brought out the Hulk.  There was talk about one of the others taking his place, despite being unable to give his speech.  We’d also considered someone going other than me.  Natasha and Sam were both floated as possibilities because of their experience volleying the questions from the press.

In the end, we just decided to leave it.  I’d been excited to finally go out with them, especially to do something like a gala, and no one else particularly wanted to go.  It was a little nerve-wracking.  The reception to us coming out had been mixed and while the negatives seemed a minority, they were certainly the ones that made themselves loudest.  Steve, in particular, faced a lot of negativity regarding his position as Captain America.  He hoped that getting back in the public eye by pushing for things like clean energy and free health care would make it clear where he stood and turn people’s attention away from his non-traditional relationship.

I was mostly excited.  I had wanted to go public with the relationship for a long time and never got to go on dates.  This wouldn’t be any regular date either.  It was a weekend away.  Science.  Dressing up and parading around with two of my boyfriends.  It was exciting.

Tony had had our clothes specially tailored for us.  He was going to wear a red tux with black lapels and a black vest over a red shirt.  It was tailored perfectly to him, so it made his waist look slim and his chest broad, and he was wearing it with the collar open.  He looked hot.  Steve on the other hand was wearing a powder blue tuxedo with a double-breasted vest in the same blue over a crisp white shirt and a pale pink bowtie.

I’d been having regular meetings with a designer for months, and we'd settled on a sheer black lace gown.  It was sheath cut, and embroidered into it were black vines that wound up my body, red and blue flowers dotted the vines along with glittering gems.  I was gonna look hot in it - if I do say so myself.

Because I was so excited about going away with them, both Tony and Steve even agreed to extend the stay over the weekend so we could go to the spa and have afternoon tea together.

I was being very spoiled and the best part was, that it wasn’t just me being spoiled and because there was an event, it wasn’t triggering any of my trauma about receiving gifts.  Tony wasn’t just spoiling me.  He was spoiling Steve too.  We needed to be here.  I needed the gown.  It was amazing.

The first part of being spoiled was the hotel.  Tony had booked the Presidential Suite at the Waldorf Astoria.

Tony’s penthouse was pretty luxurious, but it didn’t feel anywhere near as opulent as the suite.  While it was not as large as Tony’s penthouse, with two bedrooms, a large dining room, living room kitchen, study, and one and a half bathrooms, it was still plenty big.  There were huge arched windows that spanned the living room, dining room, and master bedroom, and each room had chandeliers.  There was even a small one built into the canopy over the king-sized, four-poster bed.  All the furniture was Victorian era and made with dark hardwood with gilt edges.  It was very un-Tony but very beautiful.

“Wow,” I said as I followed the bellhop into the room.  We had a lot of things with us for the gala, and after a short tour through the hotel suite, he wheeled the luggage cart into the bedroom and began to unpack for us. 

“This is a lot, Tony,” Steve said as he took a slow lap of the large living area.

“You say that so often I should have it printed on your business card,” Tony said.  He looked over at me. “What do you think, honey bun?”

“It’s amazing,” I said, approaching him and wrapping my arms around his waist.  His arms closed around me and he kissed my temple. “Thank you, Tony.”

“See, someone appreciates me,” Tony said.

“Sorry.  I know,” Steve said.  “Everything’s just been getting to me.  The press.  This gala.  And you know my upbringing.”

“How have I ended up with nine romantic partners that all have money trauma?” Tony asked.

I beckoned for Steve to come over but looked up at Tony.  “Well to be fair, I don’t think Thor has money trauma,” I said.

He laughed. “That’s true.  Next time I’ll take him away.”

Steve approached us both and put one hand on each of our hips. “I’ll try and relax,” he promised.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tony said.  “And aside from the gala, we don’t have to go anywhere.  We’ll go down to the spa and there's afternoon tea, but all we have to do besides that is nothing.  No work.  No press.  Just us.  So I say, we order dinner to be sent up here, and then we can try breaking in some of this very fancy-looking furniture.”

I ran my hand up Steve’s chest and curled my fingers into the fabric of his shirt.  “And try and keep in mind, you’re doing this for us.  How long have I wanted to be taken somewhere by … well any of you?”

He gave a small nod.  “You’re right.  It’s been difficult, but it does feel a lot nicer getting to live our truth.” 

I tugged him down and he brought his lips to mine.  We kissed slowly and deeply, lips moving together and tongues flicking out to meet.  Steve hummed softly into my lips and Tony made a small, impatient sound as his fingers flexed on my side.

I was just about to pull back from Steve and start kissing Tony when someone cleared their throat on the other side of the room.

We all looked over at the same time, and Steve’s face flushed red.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the bellhop said, looking even more awkward and embarrassed than Steve did.  “I’ve finished.”

Tony slid right into his usual public bravado, strolling over to the guy as he fished his wallet out of his inside jacket pocket.  “Thank you so much,” he said, putting his arm around the guy’s shoulders and leading him toward the door.  “Couldn’t have done it without your help.”  When he reached the door, he pulled it open and guided the man through, pulling out some cash from his wallet and slipping it into his hand like it was a magic trick.

“Right.  Thank you,” the bellhop said.  “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“I have no doubt we will,” Tony said.  He closed the door and turned back to us laughing.  “Why, Captain,” Tony scolded.  “Here you were mad at me for outing us and you’re just making out with two people in front of strangers.”

“Tony…” Steve sighed.

Tony clicked his tongue.  “No, no.  I forgive you,” Tony said.  “That bellhop though…”

Steve sighed and shook his head, while I stifled laughter. “Okay.  No fighting boys.  I’m sure that bellhop has seen things that would even make Tony blush.  He’s not gonna remember us kissing for long.”

“True.  There are a lot of unique tastes in the world.  One time this guy…”

“Nope!” Steve interrupted.  “I don’t want to know.  We should order dinner.”

Tony went and grabbed the room service menu.  “I’ll handle it.  They have some nice share platters here.  You two go make out some more if you like.”

Steve shook his head but his lips tugged up at the sides as he tried not to laugh.  “This is going to be a long weekend, isn’t it?”

“It is and I love it,” I said, taking his hand and leading him to one of the couches.  “Now relax, honey.  Just imagine what he’d be like if Bruce was here too.” 

We did make out and when Tony was finished on the phone with room service he came and joined us.  By the time there was a knock on the door, Tony’s shirt was open and my lips were tingling.  Tony jumped up and skipped over to the door to let in the bellhop with the food.  They laid it out as Steve and I straightened out and came to join Tony at the table.

He’d gone overboard.  There was a seafood tower that included lobster, crab, shrimp, oysters, scallops, tuna, and salmon, a charcuterie board with a selection of artisanal cheeses, cured meats, and bread, and if that wasn’t enough, he’d ordered us each a main, steak for Steve, risotto for me, and a double cheeseburger for him.

“Tony…” Steve sighed when we were alone again.

“I know, I know. It’s too much,” Tony said, waving him on.  “Like you don’t have the appetite of four people.  Just enjoy yourself would you.”

“Thank you, Tony,” I said and kissed his cheek.

He smiled and rubbed my leg.  “You gotta stop being so nice to me, El.  I don’t know what to do with all that positive energy.”

“Okay then.  Goddamn it, Tony.  I hate eating.  Grr…” I teased.

He laughed and nudged me.  “That’s good.  Keep practicing and I’ll believe it.”

The food was delicious and as expected, Steve ate a lot.  Tony and I finished eating, well before Steve was done.  I climbed into Tony’s lap while we waited for him, pulling my feet up and curling my arm around Tony’s shoulders.

“Hello, dear,” Tony said, running his finger along the neckline of my shirt.  “Are we feeling a little frisky?”

“Yes,” I said.

He kissed my throat, grazing his teeth over the sensitive spot at the corner of my jaw.  “You can’t wait for the dear Captain to finish eating.”

“He takes too long,” I said, pouting playfully.  “Carbo loading,” I added with air quotes.

He laughed.  “That’s true,” he said. He lifted my shirt off over my head and tossed it aside.  “Still, we should be patient.”

“I suppose,” I agreed, and unfastened my bra.  I tossed it in the same direction as Tony had thrown my shirt, but it landed two feet further than the shirt did.

Tony cupped my breasts and leaned in, swirling his tongue around my nipple, and then pulling it into his mouth.  I moaned, pushed my chest out toward him, and looked over at Steve.  Steve raised an eyebrow at me and then took a very deliberate bite of his steak.

Tony pulled back with a pop.  He looked from me to Steve and then back to me again and he brought his lips to my ear.  “Maybe we need to try and tempt Steve to hurry.”  He said it quietly but not so quietly that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear.

I nodded.  “I think so.”

He guided me back onto my feet and his hands slid up under my skirt and grabbed the waistband of my panties.  He dragged them down and I stepped out of them.  “Get up on the table and sit down in front of him.  Let him see what’s waiting for him.”

“Oh god,” Steve said with a soft laugh.

I climbed up onto the table as instructed and sat down in front of Steve, spreading my legs and putting them on either side of his plate, my knees bent and my skirt hitched up.  Tony got up and began packing up the used dishes from behind me.

Steve’s eyes ran up and down my body, but he continued eating.  “Why buy all this food, if you don’t want me to eat it, Tony?” he asked.

Tony laughed.  “We’re not rushing you,” he said.  “Just making sure you know what’s for dessert.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

“What is it, Cap?” Tony asked. “Wishing for a nice peaceful life?”

Steve laughed a little louder. “Who, me?  Doesn’t look that way.”

I grinned at him, shifting where I was, and spreading my legs a little wider.  His eyes flicked up to me and he raised an eyebrow.  “Be patient now.”

I giggled and nodded.  “Yes, sir,” he said.

The fact he was just making me wait was incredibly sexy.  He didn’t take his eyes off me, but he also didn’t rush.  He and Tony would talk from time to time, but he never seemed to rush his meal.  Not that he didn’t also appear turned on.  The way he was looking at me was nothing short of ravenous.

Finally, he finished his steak and he moved the plate aside.  “Now, we were saying something about dessert?” he said, grabbing my thigh and dragging me to the edge of the table.

I squealed and fell back on my elbows as he lifted my legs over her shoulders.  I didn’t even get a chance to adjust how I was sitting before his mouth was on me.  He sucked on my pussy like he was starving and I was the only thing on the buffet.  I grabbed hold of his hair and linked my ankles behind his back.

“Oh fuck,” I gasped.  “Steve…”

“That mouth, good for things other than rousing speeches, huh?” Tony joked.

“Yes,” I mewled.  “He can tell you off too.”

Tony laughed and sat back on the chair, putting his feet on the table, one ankle crossed over the other.  “Yeah, he is good at that too.”

The teasing seemed to spur Steve on.  His tongue swirled around my folds, pushed inside me, and then flicked up to my clit.  He sucked and licked at my cunt in a way that I couldn’t get a bead on.  It made me writhe and squirm on the table, my fingers gripping his hair and my hips bucking against his mouth.

I was fighting it, trying to hold it together, but it was no use.  Steve had learned exactly how my body worked and what I liked best and he seemed to be doing everything to bring me over.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted.  My muscles were all clenched and my toes curled.

“Oh, honey,” Tony teased.  “Let it happen.”

“I don’t know if it was Tony’s words that set me over, or that I was just so damned close it wouldn’t have mattered what I did, but I came.  Hard.  I fell back on the table, arching my back and bucking up into Steve’s mouth.  He groaned and pulled back, wiping his mouth.

“Jeez, Steve,” Tony teased.  “You took forever with your entree, but you rushed your dessert.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not done,” Steve said, pushing up from the table.  He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, making me squeal once again. “Come on, Tony.”

Steve carried me into the bedroom with Tony hot on his heels.  He dropped me onto the bed, but before he could climb on top of him, I put my foot on his chest and pushed him back.  “Nope,” I said.

He pulled back.  “What’s wrong?  Is it too much?”

“You have been very judgemental of Tony today,” I said.

“Yeah.  You sure have been,” Tony agreed.

“And you have been a little antagonistic,” I said.  “And now I want you two to kiss and make up.”

Steve turned to Tony and held out his hand. “I’m sorry, Tony.  I know you’re just trying to spoil us.”

Tony took his hand.  “It’s okay.  I’ve been trying to get a rise out of you, I guess.”

“I know,” Steve said and pulled him into a harsh kiss.

I bit my bottom lip as I watched them kiss.  It was always like watching a battle of wills when they kissed, neither of them wanting to concede control to the other.  Steve’s hand bunched into Tony’s shirt and he pushed him back toward the bed, the kiss breaking when he tossed him down on the mattress beside me.

“Elly, how about you straddle Tony’s face?  I can’t be the one having all the fun,” Steve said.

I did as I was instructed, putting my knees on either side of his face and my hands on his chest.  As Tony started to lick slowly and languidly at my cunt, Steve stripped off his clothes.  I watched him through hooded eyes as I slowly rolled my hips on Tony’s face.

Steve got up on the bed behind me and pushed me forward, so I was lying on top of Tony.  With my face so close to Tony’s crotch, I started to open his pants and push them down his thighs.  He was rock hard and precome pooled at the tip of his cock.  As I licked it off, Steve pressed his cock against my entrance, and with a hard snap of his hips, he shoved deep inside me.

I gasped, clenching around him. The sound was joined by a deep moan from Tony, who grabbed my thighs and dug my fingers into my flesh.

It was hard to focus with Steve filling me the way he did, each thrust shoving me forward, and Tony’s tongue lathing up my slit.  Especially given how recently I'd come.  I was wound up and over-sensitive.  I did my best though, pulling Tony’s cock into my mouth and curling my tongue around it.  Each thrust from Steve pushed me onto Tony's cock, and soon I was gagging and drooling all over it.

Tony would lick from my clit to that place where Steve and I joined, and as soon as his tongue reached Steve, the super soldier would jerk into me and moan loudly.

It was a good thing we were in such a large suite because we were not quiet.  Our moans echoed off the walls.  Even with my mouth full I couldn’t keep quiet.  I was moaning and drooling and gagging around Tony’s cock, and the closer I got to my release the louder I got.  My fingers dug into Tony’s thighs as I tried to keep myself together, my nails biting into his skin.

It was no use.  Between Steve’s thick cock hammering into me, and Tony’s tongue lathing over my oversensitive clit, sent me careening over the edge. I cried out, releasing Tony’s cock and arching my back.  “Oh fuck,” I gasped as I clenched around Steve’s cock.

My cunt was still clenching with my orgasm when Steve pulled out of me.  “Turn around, El,” he said, giving my butt a swat.

As I slowly turned on top of Tony, Steve climbed off the bed and went and grabbed some lube.  “Looks like you’re in for a treat,” I said as I began to grind down on his cock.

“I’m a lucky boy,” Tony said, his hand curling into my hair.  He pulled me into a kiss, his tongue coaxing my lips apart.

Steve moved between Tony’s legs as he lubed his cock.  He tossed the bottle beside Tony and lifted his legs so I was bracketed between Tony’s knees.  Steve guided me down onto Tony’s cock, making us both moan.  Tony’s moan only got louder and more animalistic as Steve pushed in.

I cradled Tony’s cheeks and looked down into his eyes.  “He’s so big isn’t he?” I asked.

Tony nodded.  “Yes.  Fuck.  He’s huge.”

“It’s good isn’t it?” I asked.

He nodded again and his head fell back with his lips parted.  Steve chuckled softly and patted Tony’s leg.  “You’re doing really well, Tones,” he praised.  “Taking me like a champ.”

Tony moaned again and his back arched under me, and Tony began to thrust.  Each thrust of Steve’s hips pushed me up and down on Tony’s cock. Tony was barely keeping it together.  He clenched his teeth and the tendons in his neck pulled taut.  I looked back over at Steve who looked completely lost in his own pleasure, holding on to Tony’s thighs as he railed into the brunet.  “He looks good taking you, huh?” I said.

“Mm-hmm,” Steve hummed.  “He’s gorgeous.”

I leaned back against him and he pulled me into a kiss.

Tony wasn’t able to hold on too much longer.  He started to writhe under me and he beat his fits on the mattress.  I broke away from Steve and looked down at Tony.  “Why are you fighting it?” I asked him.

He shook his head, unable to form words.

Steve reached past me, putting his hand on Tony’s throat.  “Come, Tony.”

It seemed to be all it took.  Tony’s whole body shuddered and he bucked up into me and released with a roar.

Steve kept thrusting and pulled out suddenly.  “El, knees, sweetheart,” he said.

I hurriedly got off Tony and onto my knees in front of him, looking up at him and opening my mouth.  Steve pumped his cock a few more times over me and released into my mouth and over my lips and chin in thick ropes.  “God damn,” he cursed.

There was a moment before we both just stayed right where we were, not moving, and just breathing heavily.  Steve was the one who broke first, reaching down to help me to my feet.  “Come on, pretty girl.  Let’s get you cleaned up.”  He reached for Tony next, taking hold of his hand. “You too, Tones.”

It wasn’t long before the three of us were in the tub together, a little cramped, but still able to relax in the warm water. 

“Mm this is nice,” Steve hummed.  “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony chuckled softly and linked his fingers with Steve’s.  “It was my pleasure, Cap.”

~ The End ~