#Guides the reciever to safety | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

potionpeddlerpatchy · 1 year ago

Text

word count: ~10.4K

paring: God!Sero x f!Nymph!Reader

warning(s): dubcon, drugging, use of aphrodisiacs, loss of innocence, first time, marking, oral (f!recieveing), creampie, sero being manipulative in general.

authors note: hello again! Figured i would repost this lovely Sero piece once again as I have its sequel coming out very shortly, and its best to have everything in one place. This was part of a Mythology collab, and I loosely based it on the Apollo and Daphne myth; though I twisted it a little. So please, enjoy Sero using sweet words to convince you into his conniving plan~ 🔮

Nymphs, nature deities that are not fully gods yet not mortal as well. The only true creature that lives for themselves and yet the only one invariably bound to the land of mortals. And what more can a nymph do than to plenish their lands, give lone travelers a peek of god-like beauty, and to tempt the gods?

A long time ago, Gods ruled the world.

Before mortals became too abundant, their faith lost, and took over everything; the gods controlled all that was seen, heard, and felt. They gifted the mortals things like the wheat in their fields, the water in their cups, the hearth and warmth in their homes, and even the beautiful visions they would see when they slept.

The gods were kind enough to bless them with the sun, the moon, the tide, the rain that filled the clouds, the mountains that provided shelter from the harsh winds, the peacefulness of being guided to safety in death, and even love; in the many beautiful shapes and forms they came in.

And beings.

Ones that were not fully mortal, yet not fully gods. Creatures created by the gods to simply be enjoyed by the mortals; those that were lucky enough to find them. Maidens of rare beauty, and melodic laughter, that could be found in all parts of the mortal realm.

Some say they were a gift from Aphrodite herself, as a way to give her thanks to those that were ever devoted to her. Some say they were a gift from Apollo, another form of his muses to gift them with beautiful singing and subjects to paint. And some say it was Zeus, having to give away all of his lovely daughters to the mortals to appease his queen.

Either way, they existed too.

Nymphs, they were called. Nature deities that were beyond that of mortals, but not powerful enough to be labeled gods, or even demi-gods. They lived hidden away from all. Not wanting to be seen or disturbed by many, if any at all. But, if a lone traveler was lucky enough, they may spot a few bathing by waterfalls, or dancing amongst the forest's trees, or soaking the sun rays in a beautiful meadow.

They were everywhere. The oceans, the rivers, the mountains, the forests, the meadows, anywhere the gods had touched and blessed there were to be nymphs to plenish and restore. To keep alive what the gods had left behind; to love what had been forgotten.

You were what the mortals called an Anthousai, a flower nymph. The luckiest of all spirits that were contained to forests and fields; even your fellow wood and plant nymphs were jealous of what you were. A beautiful flower to be admired.

Though the tree stands tall, and grass gives plenty, they could not compare to the beauty that came from anthousai, not even if they were to give up their lives and transform; for a tree could not compare to the beauty of an everlasting flower.

Though you never knew what flower you truly were, whether it be a rose, bluebells, or peonies, your beauty was beyond compare. Even your sisters, fellow flower nymphs like you, over time grew to be spiteful at just how radiant you had become; overshining even them, and they were to be just as beautiful.

They were resentful of you, the one that was most blessed by the gods.

You never were to be invariably bound to one place, for no place wanted to keep you. You constantly were searching, trying to find a home to be secure within, to find sisters that loved you and would dance and sing and care for you as you cared for all that crossed your path. But over time it was made clear that those of forest and field would not want to keep you and call you their own.

So you fled towards the mountains, where the springs and rock would be; hoping they would provide you with what you needed to live.

And, as luck and fortune would bless you once more, you came upon a fellow nymph that was like you. An Oceanid, one that was to be associated with water, as the personification of the springs that dwelled within the land you stumbled upon. And much like you, she was blessed more than anyone else and cast out for it.

She took you to where she lived. A place hidden by rock and trees and held within it a large pond of water that was so blue and clear one could get mesmerized by the simplest ripples on its surface. Not far from it was a tiny home, cozy and sweet that made your heart fill with warmth when you stepped inside it for the first time. And right below it, a passageway that led to a path, that if a traveler was lucky enough to stumble across, could cut his journey through the mountains in half.

Not ideal, truly, for a nymph that wishes to hide away from any mortal; and though this path and place were hard to reach, it had a higher probability to have a mortal stumble upon it, and you, than where any other nymph resided.

But, where one saw misfortune, you both saw the opposite.

If travelers wished to use your sacred path, to hopefully gaze upon beauty that they will never see again in their life, to trespass and invade your home, then they must leave a gift upon your altar. Failure to do so meant traveling back to where they once came, and conquering the mountain with even fewer supplies. So it only made sense to give up a small token, or bits of coin and gold to you both to be able to pass through.

And oh how blessed with gifts you were. Piles of gold and silver coins filled tiny satchels that hung upon your walls; and made beautiful jingling sounds whenever the wind would shift them. Jewels that would glisten in the sun whenever you held them up to gaze at their beautiful colours. And trinkets, both old and new, that decorated any part of your dwelling with their unique beauty; with some you would wear or attach to your clothing with how much you adored their charm.

It was not long that the news of this passageway, and the creatures that were being treated better than the gods, reached the heavenly realm.

~~~

“It’s becoming ridiculous!” Ashido cried out, bringing a golden fan up to cool her heated face “They’re getting more offerings than me now! Me!”

Ashido threw herself down on a nearby chaise lounge, the pillows making a soft landing on her otherwise dramatic display, as she brought an arm up to cover her eyes. The fellow gods around her just rolled their eyes, more than used to the over-dramatics their friend and fellow deity was currently putting on display. They knew that, in due time, this would all blow over and she would be acting as if nothing ever happened.

“So, it’s all well and fine if we lose out on offerings. But the moment the Goddess of Love and Beauty starts to lose just a few, then it’s an issue?”

Denki smirked from his spot, chin in palm, as he retorted back to the fellow god that was throwing a fit, more than amused by it all - unlike his fellow brethren. His smile only became wider when he saw Ashido’s eyebrows furrow and a scowl form on her face.

“Oh don’t make such a face!” He laughed, throwing his head back so far he too was lying comfortably on his chaise “It’s very unbecoming of you!”

“Will you two knock it off?” Katsuki grumbled, hands working a stone over the blade of his sword with practiced ease “Who cares about what offerings two stupid nymphs get?”

“I do!” Ashido sat back up again, her glare now pointed towards the man sitting on the floor “They lesser beings! Lesser creatures than I am! And yet their beauty is being more devoted than mine! It’s not right!”

And while those words only received an eye roll from the War God, another god’s interest was now piqued. Sure he knew of the situation, it was all anyone could talk about up in the heavens, but to now know that these creatures were deemed more lovely and fair than his friend? Well, it was certainly interesting news, to say the least.

“Fascinating…”

“Oh come now Hanta!” Ashido cried once more, knocking the arrow he was absentmindedly twirling in his hands “Really? As a fellow love god, I figured you would take my plight more seriously!”

“It is your plight, not mine” He hummed in response, before scoffing in mirth “Come on, how can you not find this interesting? When in our lives has any nymph really claimed the hearts of so many mortals? To the point where they are mistaking them for Gods?”

“Well….”

“Never! We have only ever seen them as nuisances at best, or in Denki’s case a quick romp to let off some steam. Nothing more than a means to an end. Now they are controlling mortals, and even us to a degree! Surely you should find that quite amazing of creatures you half-heartedly help make, turning into something almost as beautiful and powerful as you.”

Ashido rolled her eyes at the last statement, not liking having her greatness compared to that of two lowly nymphs; but Hanta did have a point. Though she would never admit it, her scoff and abrupt standing proof she no longer wished to be in the same room as him for simply being right.

“If you find them so fascinating, then why don’t you meet them?”

Hanta, or any of her fellow friends, did not have a chance to reply before she stormed out of the room. It caused Katsuki to scoff once more before resuming his task, this time with more vigor. And for Hanta to roll his eyes, fingers deftly twirling his silver arrow once again as his mind began to wander.

Just how beautiful was the pair of you?

Before he could ponder the question any further, he stood abruptly too. Not wanting to waste another moment wondering about those thoughts, instead, he wanted to see for himself. He was a god after all, so why shouldn’t he know more about these beings that were creating quite a stir in his realm?

“Maybe I will…” He mumbled to himself, feet starting to take him to where he wanted to go before his mind could fully comprehend where.

“Like hell you are!” Denki stood in his way, effectively blocking the taller god from taking another step “Not without me!”

This caused Hanta to smirk down at him “Nymphs are cautious creatures, and due to their nature one must be careful how they interact with them. And if I actually want to interact with them at some point, my best bet isn’t to bring the one god known for sleeping with, and breaking the hearts of, almost everyone single one.”

“W-well! So what?” Denki’s skin became flushed as blood rushed to his face in embarrassment over his friend's truth, “You’re a god too, and it's clear they don’t like any! So what makes you think you can succeed with them, huh?”

“Because, my simple friend,” Hanta smiled, side-stepping the flustered god to continue on his way “I am the God of Flattery and Sweet Words, hard to lose the trust of such lovely creatures with that.”

~~~

Though it took a lot of effort, and even more flattery, to get just where in the mountains (and which mountain) you and your friend were calling home from Ashido, he still managed to get it. And with gleeful steps, strong winds to help his wings glide him swiftly through the air, and the gracefulness of his very being, he managed to find you both with no issue at all.

He perched himself upon a nearby tree, high enough that one would not notice he was there if they were to walk by, and just observed the pair of you.

Your friend (or sister, as you kept calling her), he would admit, was beautiful. She was the one that caught his eye first. The way her skin seemed to always glow under the sun's rays as she gracefully danced upon the meadow you were residing in was hard to ignore. He chuckled to himself at the thought of some mortal stumbling across her, just knowing they would mistake her for his dear friend Ochako mid-hunt with how ethereal she looked.

But then his eyes finally glanced over to you, unable to help himself from sparing you a glance when your sister had called out to you, and it was then he felt his heart stop in his chest and for the world around him to stop moving.

It was your smile, or so he thinks when he thought back at that moment again and again, that caused such a powerful reaction within him. How radiant it was, how it lit up the world around you brighter than a thousand suns. How warm it made him feel when it unknowingly was sent in his direction. And how it made him finally look at your beautiful face.

After he saw that smile he wondered why your sister had ever caught his attention in the first place. The way the flowers around you sat upon your head and fell into your hair, the way your eyes looked so bright as they gazed up at your companion, and how soft and small your hands look when they reached out to her, to allow her to pull you up into a dance, were all so captivating.

He may have been fascinated before as to why mortals were throwing themselves into danger just for a glimpse of you, but now he understood fully. You were the most breathtaking creature he had ever witnessed in his long immortal life, and he could not lie when he thought to himself that day that your beauty could rival that of Ashido’s. In fact, he could not lie and say that he wouldn’t choose you over his old friend if he had to judge who the most beautiful in all the realms was.

He wanted you.

He wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life, and he wanted for very little. But he knew that you would deny him from plucking you from where you called home; it was in your nature. And in a perfect world, he can simply walk up to you and say a few pretty words and you would be his.

But thanks to his friend Denki, you would not trust him in the slightest; nor his intentions, for you could sense that they would not be pure. For how could they, as nymphs really only existed to be temptresses to the gods and then have their hearts broken once they gave their flowers to them. And you knew you were a rare flower, one that would not choose so willingly to be plucked up and away from your life, home, and companion.

No. If Hanta wished to have you, all of you all to himself, he would have to be patient. And well, it was a virtue and he knew he was virtuous enough to conquer the lust that raged within him when he looked at you to see himself succeeding. To see you run into his arms and ask him to take you away and be his forever.

And what better way can he think to court you, to earn your favour and trust, than to leave you gifts at your altar?

Not just any gifts though. No, he would not waste your time with the meaningless trinkets and coins that those travelers gifted you, he would give you things only the gods could. To give you all the spoils known to them as a way of proving his devotion to you; for why else would a god willingly give up all his riches if not for love?

~~~

It was strange to you at first, the small gifts that were left at your door. Usually when there was a gift there was a traveler nearby, waiting for you or your sister to allow them to pass. But these gifts would just appear as if they came into existence by the wind.

And what gifts they were!

Robes made with the brightest and finest silks, always adorned with beautiful gold and silver embellishments, with a few jewels within the intricate carvings. Rings that were so heavy your hands always felt like lead when you wore them. Bracelets that could wrap and entangle all the way up your arms and legs, adorning your whole limb in its beauty. And necklaces that always perfectly sat upon your chest, with their large gemstones settling flawlessly in between your bosom.

You always shared these splendid and grand gifts with your sister, not wanting to be cruel and hoard all the splendor to yourself. But over time you started to grow nervous about where these gifts were coming from, about who was sending them to you. For who could afford to give you these things if not a god? And if it truly was a god, how did you catch his eye? And why would he only want to give you these things, never your sister?

Soon there were gifts being given to you every day. As every morning they would sit at your doorstep, waiting for you to collect them. There was little space for you to place them in your home over time, with many of the gifts being left unopened; them sitting upon shelves in the bindings they came to you in.

And one day, upon a pile of other treasures that awaited you that morning, a golden apple sat glistening in the sunrise. That was the day all your doubts and nerves got the better of you as you shut the door and hid yourself away.

That was the day you knew for certain a god was trying to court you, for no other being other than god could get ahold of golden apples. The heavenly fruit that they all ate upon as if it was nothing more than a common fruit; but to you and all other mortals it was more than that. It was the only thing that could grant any being immortal life.

Therefore the reason it was given to you, sat upon piles of other treasures, was a sign that a god had wanted to take you away; to call you their own. And the thought terrified you. For where would you end up? What would they want from you? And would they cast you aside as if you were nothing, like all nymphs were treated by them? And what would happen to your sister? Would you never see her again?

That was the thought that terrified you the most.

Heartache, terror, abuse, you could bear if it meant she was by your side. You had waited long enough to finally get the companionship you had always craved; the one you searched for in many lands, and you did not want to give it up any time soon.

So the gifts, and that apple, stayed outside for days as you stayed hidden behind your walls in hopes that the sender would take that as a sign of your rejection. A sign you did not want, or need, the lavish gifts anymore and for him to move onto a more wanting and deserving creature.

When Hanta saw that his gifts were left untouched, the apple still perched precariously upon the other lavish items he had wanted you to wear and adore, it made his entire being slouch in despair.

How could you not like them? Why would you not take them?

He knew they were no different from all the other gifts he had given you, and he knew you loved those. He watched as you glided through the forests, and that wonderful meadow where he first saw you, twirling in those gowns. Giggling with your sister when you were jangling those bracelets as you danced, holding those rings up to the light. Unable to let his eyes wander whenever his necklaces would sit between your breasts.

And though he was never a fan of whenever you shared those gifts with your sister, he only ever wanted you to wear what he gave, he knew that you did so out of excitement. Excitement that you would show with every new gown and jewelry you placed on your body you would always pair it with a new crown made of the very flowers you tended to.

He watched you, from his favorite spot in the trees, as you gleefully would make them. Hands always hurried as you tried to finish them as quickly as possible as if you could not bear to wait another moment without it upon your head. And though they always looked so beautiful upon your brow, he always promised he would give you a real one someday.

One made of gold, if you were to say yes to him; to be his. But there it sat, collecting dust upon your altar. A rejection of him and all other splendors he wishes to give you.

It made him furious, just as it did fill his being with sorrow. Not furious at you, no, he could never hate you. Furious that he overturned his hand and made you skittish. Made you untrusting of him and his intentions. Made it seem like you did not want him.

But of course, you did. Of course, you wanted him.

He just had to make sure you understood why you wanted him. How no one else could compare to him. How no one else would treat you with such warmth and comfort and give you any spoil your little heart could ever desire for the rest of your life.

And well, it seemed only fitting that you should finally meet him as he told you all these things.

~~~

It was in your springs where he found you that night. Though it was not Hanta’s intention to spy on you while you both bathed in the cool waters, he couldn’t help it. How could one resist that temptation? To hear the sweet laughter mixed with the splashing of water to lure one in, and then to see the sight of two beautiful maidens while they bathed. It was simply not fair.

If he were a lesser man he would have jumped out to try and take one of you then.

But he was not and found great pleasure simply watching the pair of you. How the moon illuminated your skin to make it that much more supple; that much more tempting for him to touch. How he could not stop his eyes from roaming your figure as you brought oils to your skin, to lavish and clean it before they disappeared into the water around you.

Hanta was almost envious of the suds, the small bubbles, that had a chance to touch your perfect body and soft skin. Of the water that elicited such sweet squeals of excitement when it was splashed onto you, to the soft sighs it cast from your lips when you would lounge back into it. And of your sister, the only one who was able to witness all of these things about you; and so selfishly kept it all to herself.

Though it was only when a twig snapped under his foot, an oversight he normally wouldn’t let happen, that he realized his mistake. Realized that his first meeting with you would be tarnished over impure thoughts and actions, which would only lead to you not trusting him even more.

For what nymph could trust a god they caught spying on them while they bathed?

But he had to try. And he leaped from his spot once he saw the pair of you scurrying for your clothing and out of the spring. He cared not for your sister, and allowed her to run towards your home, though he followed you closely; making it impossible for you to return to the place you felt the safest.

He managed to corner you once again, back to where it all started. The waterfall from the springs could be heard faintly behind you as you watched him approach the tree you had hidden behind. Your breathing labored as you held your clothing up to your body as best you could to conserve what was left of your modesty.

“I won’t hurt you.” Hanta called out to you, his voice soft to not further spook you “And I won’t cause you any harm, I promise. I just think you are the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen; so won’t you please come out and talk to me? For just but a moment?”

You glare at him, eyes holding suspicion over his claims. Though you finally relented when you watched as he stepped closer and closer to you, in your ever-vulnerable state.

“S-stop! Please stay where you are…” You called out, voice losing strength as you continue to cower away from him “I will speak with you, only if you promise to turn your head away and allow me to get dressed.”

Hanta gave a small smile, hands clasping behind his back as he turned his body away from you; making sure to keep his head and gaze straight ahead of him, to not make you suspicious that he was trying to catch another glimpse.

“Did you not like them?”

His question startled you, a small gasp slipping out as you stumbled with your garment; almost tripping over your own feet. You took a deep breath to regain some level of composure as you shakily slipped your legs through the gathering.

“I am not sure what you mean…” You pulled the fabric upwards, placing the final strap over your one shoulder; your eyes never straying from the back of his head.

“The gifts.” He replied, “I have given you plenty, but it seems that lately, you have not accepted any. I am wondering if you did not like them.”

“Oh, it was you…” You made your way from out behind the tree, the movements being heard by the man before you as he finally turned back around to face you.

He was taller than you by a far margin, one that kept growing as he made his way towards you; his steps were careful to show he was not to harm you. When he finally reached you, he crouched down as close to your level as he could and clasped your hands in his, gently squeezing them in his hold.

“I am.” His voice was but a whisper as he pulled you closer, trying in vain to get you to look up at him, wanting nothing more than to gaze into your beautiful eyes.

“Then you should know why I did not accept them” You voice soft but strong, as you turned your head away from him “You are a god, the gifts you have given proof of that. And from all the tales I have heard and seen, all a god does is take the chastity of nymphs before casting them aside.”

“How could I ever do that to you? I would never do that to you. In my eyes, you are far too lovely and beautiful to ever just be cast aside.”

He heard you scoff, head moving away from his deft fingers as they tried to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, clearly not believing him. His actions just displayed proof of why you were untrusting, and so he would have to use his sweet words in a different manner.

“In all truth, had I not come down this very night to see you, I am sure my brethren would try and take you away.”

You stiffened in his hold, fear gripping your being at his words. Frozen in place you finally allowed him to move your head up to look at him, into his dark eyes that told you what he said was true.

“W-what…?” Your voice was shaky, as was your body when you continued to scan his face for any semblance of trickery; only to still find none.

“My fellow gods, the ones I call friends from time to time, they heard the stories of nymphs in the mountains that had caught all sorts of mortals' attention.” Hanta began, “They were curious, and wanted to see for themselves just how beautiful you were. But my friends are more beast than gentleman; I fear of what might have become of you had I not scared them off.”

You collapsed into him, the shock of his words controlling your body more than your mind as you clung to his tunic. Though you could not see it, Hanta had an impish smile on his face as he comforted you; his hands running soothing patterns up your arms.

“But you needn't worry!” He pulled back to look at your face once more, squeezing your arms in comfort “I will protect you from them. All I ask is that you accept me, take my gifts, and allow me your company.”

“How… how will I know?” You looked back up at him, hands lowering from his chest “How will I know you are being truthful with me?”

“I am a God of Love, my dear,” Hanta fluttered the wings on his back to make light of that truth. “And as one, I never appreciated or cared for those that would take advantage of it; to abuse it and harm others with their lust. I can tell my friend's intentions are not pure, as I can with any being, and I cannot bear it if they were to harm a precious flower like you.”

Hanta watched you carefully. Watched how your eyes glanced at his wings, back to his face, and turned downcast once again as you took in his words. He has hoped the sweet words he was known for would work on you, to break down your walls to allow him in. He had to hide the victorious smile from gracing his features when you gazed up at him and accepted his protection and his terms.

“Tell me your name” You mumbled, taking a step away from him. “If I have to agree to all of this, then please allow me to know the name of my protector.”

“Hanta, you may call me Hanta.”

Your head shot back up to look at him, eyes once again glaring at him as you took another step away from him “There is no god named Hanta.”

“None named for the mortals.” Hanta smiled, closing the gap between you once more “None of us gods are ever named what mortals claim we are, even in their stories. Our true names are only spoken and used amongst each other, in the heavens. Only you, in this mortal realm, shall have the knowledge and privilege to call me it.”

“Hanta.” You whispered out, nodding your head in agreement with his words.

“Good, now be off.”

It took all of his strength to step away from you; not wanting to be away from your warmth now that he finally had it. But he did. Only if it were to prove to you he was on your side, that he wanted to protect you.

He watched with bated breath as you scurried away, back to your home. Only allowing himself a breath, and a mirthful smirk to appear, once he knew you were too far away to see it. His wings stretched out behind him as he took flight back home.

His meeting with you went far better than he ever planned it. And now he had plenty to dream of that night.

~~~

It was rare for the God of War to come to the mortal realm.

Especially seeing as there was no war to be had. No fight to participate in, no blood for him to shed, and no victory to be won for him once all the dust and debris settled. And it was even more rare that the God of Strength would follow alongside him into this plane when there was no battle to be had.

But there were never ones to turn down a mission.

Their pride and honor to strong within them to let a challenge go to the wayside simply because they thought it was stupid, pitiful, or a waste of their time. And though Katsuki thought what he was doing here, what he was about to do, fit into all three categories he simply could not tell his friend no.

Hanta never asked for much, especially from him. And Katsuki had to admit that his fellow friends served him very well in battles of past; always fighting on his side to help him claim his victories. So, he could swallow his pride for a moment or two so he can fulfill a small favour in return to the larger ones he was in debt to.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice either.

“Why are we doing this again?” Ejirou asked, scooting himself closer to his friend while still staying crouched behind some foliage.

“Because Hanta asked us to.” Katsuki mumbled, huffing out his answer as it wasn’t the first time he was asked.

“But it doesn’t seem right, doing any of this. And you normally don’t waste your time on such trivial things, especially when it comes to beings like nymphs, so why are you here? And why did you drag me into this?”

“Because!” Katsuki hissed, baring his teeth in warning “Hanta asked for us to do this! And the last time I refused that bastard made it impossible for me to be intimate with anyone for over 200 years!”

Katsuki huffed, watching his friend eye him warily before shifting slightly away, the action making him slump his shoulders in slight defeat.

“Listen. I don’t want to do this either. If I had it my way, we would all just leave these two idiots alone for the rest of their lives. But Hanta seems to like one of them, and we all know there is nothing we can do to stop him.”

“You’re right….”

Ejirou mumbles that last part, knowing that his friend was right. There was no way to change Hanta’s mind once it was set on something, much like it was impossible to change any of their minds. They were gods, and they were selfish. They took what they wanted and when they wanted it.

It was just that both of them were unnerved at the taking of a nymph away from the place they were bound to. Something that was never meant to be done. When they were created they were made to be invariably bound to the mortal realm, to avoid any chaos that may happen if they were to come to the heavens.

Hanta was playing a risky game, and though they trusted he would play his cards right, and well. They could not be sure that his actions would not cause a ripple effect that would turn into a grand-scale fight amongst them; like the choosing of the fairest once again.

Though they had no time to further delve into their thoughts on the matter, not when you and your sister had approached where they were hiding. Your giggles filled the air as you came into the springs once more; wanting a dip in their cool waters to help quench your thirst and cool you from the warm summer rays.

Both men tensed, breath hitching in their throats as you both started to slowly undress; taking off your charms and jewels, and placing them into neat little piles by the water's edge. Katsuki hated that you were lovely, hated that the stories of you both were true; for if they weren’t he would be able to justify what he was about to do as some sort of favor - to save those travelers all that time from trying to seek out a creature that turned out to be hideous.

Eijirou hated what he was about to do because you were so beautiful. Hated the fact that he would have to scar and torment such enchanting creatures for the sake of his friend; for if it were up to him, he would just bask in your glow until he was satisfied, and leave this place with a beautiful memory to last him eternity.

But it was not up to him, nor his companion next to him; and with deep, quiet breaths they both solidified their resolve and stood from where they once were hiding.

The startled gasps, the scrambling, and the screaming were all something they loathed to hear from you both as they made their way over to where you were. They hated how they had to play the part and chase you both down, to separate the both of you to further petrify you both. How they had to watch you stumble and fall, to scratch your perfect skin on tree branches and rock as you tried to get away from them; all of it.

They hated all of it.

But once they watched the pair of you rush into your home is when they stopped their chase. Made it seem like they had lost you somewhere within the trees; mumbling to each other how they would just come back another day before walking off, back to where they once were.

Sickness, that was all they felt at the bottom of their stomachs as they returned home. This victory was not like the one found in battle. Not one filled with glory and blood and sweat. This one was hollow, shallow as its waves crashed down upon them in a way that made them feel uneasy.

It was not the first time they chased a maiden down in hopes to garner their sweet bodies as their rewards. But somehow it felt like it was, and they could not look upon their friend when they told him of what had just transpired; couldn’t bear to see the glee in his eyes when he heard it all.

~~~

You both had not slept that night, for how could you when the one thing you were most afraid of happening to you, happened.

So, when Hanta visited you the next morning you couldn’t help but run out to him. Sprinting through the field of tall grass and throwing yourself onto him; clinging to him like he was the other tether keeping you to the ground.

“You cannot leave us again!” You cried out, tears flowing freely from your eyes and soaking into the cloth of his tunic “You cannot leave me again! Please! You cannot, not again!”

Hanta had to hide his smile, one that was filled with so much joy and satisfaction, from you as he further buried your head into his chest—allowing himself this moment to hold you close and shush you, to try and calm his body down and act the part of a confused and concerned friend.

“What has you so upset, my beloved?” He asked, pulling you from him to gaze upon your face, to allow you to see his concern for you. “What has gone wrong?”

“Y-you were right!” You wailed, unable to hide your sniffles and sobs as you spoke “T-they came! Y-y-your friends! They tried to take us!”

“Shhhh…” He cooed softly, pulling you back into him to try and calm you down “I know you must be terrified right now, but I’m here now. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you’re not always here!” Your voice was muffled due to your position, as you brought your arms up to dig into his side “You weren’t here yesterday! And that‘s when they came! You promised you would protect me!”

Hanta would admit, he hated seeing you cry. Hated hearing the way your voice, one usually filled with cheer, sounded so broken; so miserable. And he hated knowing he was the cause that set in motion the event that shook you to your core.

But it needed to be done, you needed to see how important he was to you. Needed you to see that your place was to be by him, that was where you were meant to be.

“I am trying to protect you, my honeysuckle…” Hanta brought a hand up to pet your hair, “But it is difficult for me to be in two places at once. My home is in the heavens, it is where I am to fulfill my duties to the mortals; it is rather difficult for me to make these trips to you as it means neglecting what I am meant to do. Unless....”

He let it hang in the air, a pregnant pause for you to become curious about what he might say. He knew he had you when you lifted your head up to look at him once again, repeating his last word back to him.

“Unless…” Hanta sighed, “Unless you leave with me, and come to live with me in my domain. Only then can I assure your protection.”

He knew you would not like his answer, especially as he saw new fresh tears starting to fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks with their hot streams. He cupped your face in his palm, wiping them away as he tried to comfort you once again, playing the part of a torn man in a tough situation perfectly, as he tried to reason with you.

“B-but my sister!” You babbled, head shaking at every word he was saying “I cannot leave my sister behind! I won’t do it!”

“Your sister can find solace in the mountains if needed! An anthousai is bound to meadows and fields! You cannot find that there, cannot find safety anywhere but where I can protect you!”

“B-but...”

“I know that it is a difficult thing to accept, a difficult choice you must make. But if you want the protection I can provide you must leave with me. I can promise you that nothing will harm you; not a finger to be laid on your skin while you are within my domain.”

You sniffle, looking into his eyes once more; to see if there was any trace of dishonesty within them. And, like always, there was none. With a shaky breath, and a nod of your head, you stepped away from his hold to walk back to your home to say your goodbyes.

Your feet felt like lead with every step. Your heart ached at every flower, leaf, and blade of grass that you passed for you knew it would be the last time you saw it. And as you made it closer and closer to where your sister was, to the home that made your heart feel warm.

Now it filled you with sorrow and dread, as you wondered if you would ever again feel the kind of happiness you felt when you first stepped within these walls. Wondered what would become of your sisters once you left this place for good. You hoped for nicer and better things, better companions, but your heart could not promise you such things, your mind could not ease its worries.

You couldn’t speak when she opened the door, asking you what was going on. All you could do was pull her into you, hold her in your tight grasp as you whispered how much you loved her. How brighter sunrises were upon her horizon, and how you would miss her so.

She watched you walk back down to him, your body shaking with the violent sobs coming forth. Watched as this man, this god, took you back into his arms and shushed you; claiming you down and whispering what she could only assume was sweet nothings to you.

She watched as you turned back to her once more. A broken smile, one that looked more like a pained grimace, appeared upon your lips as you brought a weak hand up to wave your last goodbye to her. A goodbye she never envisioned ever happening.

And then she watched him take you away; forever.

~~~

Hanta’s home was beautiful.

It was filled with golden pillars and furniture. Marbled rock adorned many surfaces, with plush pillows and linen upon beds, lounges, and chairs. You knew they would feel like clouds, be the softest things you could ever lie on.

But at this moment you couldn’t care for how soft anything felt, how plush and inviting the comfort was as it sank perfectly when your body had collapsed on top of it. Or how inviting it was to allow your body to enjoy it all, to allow it to lure you into a wondrous sleep.

No, for at this moment you were mourning the greatest loss you could possibly think of.

Hanta was kind enough to sit next to you through it. A hand running soothing patterns up your arms, your back, and even your hair as you cried out in anguish; never saying a word. Only murmuring out to you, after what felt like days of sobbing, to rest your head; to let yourself enter the land of dreams, and for Hitoshi to guide you to a sweet one. And you could not stop your body from finally agreeing.

For you would need your rest.

Hanta had waited long enough to finally have you here with him. He adored that you always believed him, that your naivete allowed you to trust him and his sweet words. To allow him to take you here, to the one place where you will never be able to escape him; for once a nymph was the enter the realm of the gods, she would lose her ability to transform - for how could a nymph become a tree, or a flower, while in the heavens?

They couldn’t. And now you were forever at his mercy. Forever to spend your days with him, indulging him in whatever splendor he wanted from you; for he was kind enough to indulge you for the months it took to woo you, it was only fair to pay him back in kind.

You, the sweet little anthousai. One too blinded by the God, whose sweet words and flattery made you melt, to notice that he had other titles too; that treachery and deception and craftiness came hand in hand with sweet nothings and empty compliments.

And oh, what a crafty web he had spun for you. The one who laid so sweetly upon his bed.

The one who called to him like a lost and sad child when you finally awoke. Your big eyes stared up at him, as you asked him for some food for your hungry tummy and something to quench your dry throat.

And who was he to deny someone so precious? A sweet little thing that asked him so nicely? He couldn’t and wouldn’t, and so he went to fetch you some of the finest fruits and ambrosia to nibble on as you tried to awaken your tired body. And wine, his special and most favourite wine for you to sip on.

When he held out the goblet to you, you hesitated; your arm halting before it could reach the drink. “I-it’s pink…”

“Yes, yes it is!” Hanta couldn’t help but laugh at your obvious statement, enjoying the way you eyed the pink liquid that seemed to swirl within its confinement with a mind of its own “A special kind of wine, the only kind reserved and enjoyed by the gods.”

The way you looked at him, eyes still showing trepidation over what he was offering. He couldn’t blame you for it, someone like you would not know the type of splendors the gods enjoyed from day to day; you were but a humble and simple thing.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders, bringing the goblet to his lips and taking a gulp of its contents. “Look see? Nothing wrong with it at all! Just a sweet wine, one that tastes like wild strawberries.”

He smiled when you finally relented, a sheepish smile gracing your own face when you finally accepted his offer; almost like you felt silly for doubting him in the first place. But again, you were just a sweet simple thing. How could you have known that gods are immune to the effects of aphrodisiacs?

How could you have known what they would feel like once they had taken hold of your body?

You couldn’t. And when you felt your breathing become labored, your body started to sweat as your heartbeat quickened, and for a strange heat to enter your belly; you grew scared. Wanting whatever heat that had entered you to subside and allow you to breathe; to allow the aching you felt to stop.

Hanta watched with mirth from the corner of his eye at you. Watching how your body squirmed and shifted, trying to get comfortable but never succeeding. Trying to ease your discomfort but failing to do so, not knowing how.

“Honeysuckle, are you alright?” He asked you, moving aside the platter of fruit to shift closer to you.

“I-I feel funny…!” You mumbled out, hand grasping around the wrist trying to check your temperature; unable to help yourself as you pulled him closer to you “I don’t know what’s wrong!”

You wished you could stop yourself, and show some form of modesty and restraint. But your body was on fire, and your mind had no way of stopping it from acting on its own. You clung to him, yet again. Though this time you had climbed into his lap, your hips stuttering as you inadvertently ground your lower half onto his leg.

“Funny how?” Hanta asked, eyes turning dark with lust as he watched you try to relieve yourself upon him so shamelessly, it made blood rush to his cock as he had to hold your hips in place; to help ground himself.

“I don’t know!” You whined, nails digging into the muscles on his shoulders - wishing he would allow you to move your hips again “I feel warm and funny, and it hurts!”

“It hurts?”

“Mhm!” You nodded, head ducking down to rest against his chest as you panted heavily, trying to get a level head once more, but failing miserably “I don’t know what to do!”

“I can help you” Hanta murmured, taking some of your hair and pushing it aside so he may be able to kiss along your neck, smirking when he heard you whine at the contact “Will you let me help you?”

You frantically nodded your head, but he tuts at that response; teasingly squeezing your hips in his gasp “Ah, ah, ah, I need you to say it love.”

You moved your head back up to look at him, and he relished the frustrated tears that were now forming in your eyes. The way your lips formed a pout, made them look more plush and delectable to try and bite and suckle on.

“Please help me Hanta” You whimpered out, unable to resist pushing yourself closer to him.

“Say that you’re mine, and I will give you everything you could ever need.” He baited, wanting to hear even more of your sweet voice.

“I’m all yours…”

You were going to say more; going to beg him further to finally help you; to ask him to stop prolonging your suffering. But you were silenced when you felt his lips press into yours. Felt the way they moved against yours, trying to get you to follow suit; which you do after a moment with fever.

You could help the moan that was muffled between you when you felt his tongue peak out, running along the bottom of your lip. You wished you knew what he wanted, you would be more than willing to give it to him. But Hanta seemed to understand this, and he moved your hips against him, allowing you to feel the hardness underneath. The gasp you let out was short-lived, as his tongue plunged into your mouth, exploring it slowly and expertly.

All you could do was melt into him; melt into his touch and the way he was kissing you. He left you breathless, panting hotly into the air when he finally parted from you; unable to keep the smirk off his face when he saw the blissed-out look you had acquired.

Hanta loved hearing the small gasps and whines you would let spill forth from your mouth, almost like you were unable to keep them hidden, when he started to kiss down your jaw. Moving slowly down your neck, leaving little nips to see your jump in surprise; your sweet little mewls going straight to his length that he was slowly rocking you onto

He was taking his time with you; he had waited so long just to have you at this moment and he wasn’t going to rush it; even if it was tempting with the way you kept pulling him closer and calling his name so sweetly. But he knew he needed to do everything right, everything perfectly, so you would crave him. Want him like this all the time.

He slowly pushed your shift down your arms, lips following closely behind his hands; to slowly caress and kiss every inch of skin you had allowed him to see and look upon. And what a sight you were to see; to him every inch of you was perfectly crafted and made him that more elated that you were all his.

“I know…” Hanta cooed, lips lavishing the skin of your breasts, fingers gently tugging on your hardened nipples “I know… it is uncomfortable. But let me take my time, love. I promise you it will be worth it. Let me worship you like you were meant to be.”

You jumped, unable to help yourself from placing a hand in his hair, tugging it harshly, when Hanta’s fingers brushed against your folds. He groaned, both at your harsh tugging and at how soaked you had become; just over some heavy petting.

Though, the feeling was foreign to you; one that kicked your senses into overdrive. You couldn’t help but clamp your legs shut, effectively stopping his hand from continuing, at the sudden and unfamiliar feeling.

“My love,” Hanta cooed, gently pulling your legs apart, “You asked for relief, and I shall give it to you. Put your trust in me, I can assure you it will feel good.”

He placed reassuring kisses along your chest, slowly petting his free hand up and down your thigh to help calm you; to help relax you and allow him access once again to your dripping cunt.

You sigh out after a moment, trembling legs finally parting for him, freeing his hand once again. Unable to help yourself from keening at his long fingers as they slowly started to up and down your folds. Being careful at where to touch, looking at your face to see which spots you reacted most to; centering in on them to hear you cry out for him.

Your little bundle of nerves is where he narrows in after he accidentally brushed against it; the way you moaned his name made his whole being shudder - wanting to hear you say it again and again and again. Wanting to watch you writhe and whine atop of him as you finally come undone by him.

You gasped, legs trying to close once more but unable to do so by a hand holding a thigh in place, when you felt his fingers start to circle your entrance, the one place that has never been touched or breached.

“Just breathe, I need to properly prepare you, my love.” Hanta groaned when he felt your quivering hole clench around nothing at his words “I promise you this will be just as good, if not better, than what I have already done.”

He truly had the hands of a god, the way they so delicately entered you; stretched you in such a way that you had no choice but to moan out for more. You never could have imagined this feeling, even in your sweetest dreams.

And it was accompanied by his words. Oh, how you could listen to him forever with the way he was groaning and purring our praises. Telling you how good you were doing, taking his fingers so well. How beautiful you looked like this, how he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight. And for you to come undone, allowing yourself to feel euphoria and grant him the chance to see it.

Who were you to deny such a tempting offer?

You were such a sight to behold. The way your body trembled, legs buckling as they struggled to hold your weight, hips unable to stop jerking away from his touch by still trying to keep the beautiful friction all the same. The way you cried out his name, unable to stop chanting it as you tried to breathe at the same time.

Hanta couldn’t help but push you down on your back, to hover over you as you tried to gain some semblance of thought once more. Hastily unrobbing himself, hissing when his cock was freed; having to take a deep breath and he stroked himself a few times before placing the blunt head at your leaking entrance.

“W-wait!” Your mind snapped you back into reality so quickly, you almost felt lightheaded “Hanta please wait!”

“For what?” He panted, hands gripping under your knees to lift your legs higher, “You are ready for me, my sweetest, and this will finally make all the unpleasant feelings disappear.”

“M’afraid!” You whimpered out, feeling the entirety of his length move between your folds as if to try and entice you once more; and the heat within you was proof it was working “Afraid it will hurt”

“You need not worry,” He purred, thumb rubbing little circles by your knees as he drank in the sight of you almost folded in half; how complacent you were. “For a moment it will, but only a moment. Then it will start to feel heavenly. Trust me, for I have not lied to you yet, have I?”

You shook your head, the action saying what you wanted to say - as words were failing you. He was right, he had always been honest with you, and even now he had shown you patience and pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. So why doubt him now?

He started to sink into you, after you had asked him to do so. Hanta let out a long groan as he felt your tight walls clamp down on him, both in trying to prevent him further but also milking him for everything he had to offer, and inch by inch he carved his way into your heat.

The burn was as he claimed, painful. But once he was fully sheathed, that burn began to change from that of pain, to that of wanting pleasure. The agonizing heat that had come from nowhere was coming forth once again to consume you in its agonizing flames.

“Hanta, please!” You cry out, hands reaching out to grip where his sat on your legs “Please move! Make this feeling go away!”

He was never one to say no to you. He nodded his head, taking a shaky breath, before slowly moving his hips; taking his length almost completely out of your weeping cunt, before pressing it back into you. Watching your face carefully to see if any discomfort could be found.

When your pinched brows started to relax, your breathing changing from pained chirps into those sweet breathy moans, and when you start to cling to him once more - nails finding purchase into the skin on his arms - does he pick up the pace.

Though, Hanta knows he will not last much longer, not when your warm heat clings to him so tightly, begging him to claim what is rightfully his and paint your pretty cunt white with his seed; he knows he must first have you cum around him. To selfishly feel your messy cunt spasm around him like it has never done before.

He brings one of his hands from where it was placed on your knee downwards to your bundle of nerves, moaning when he feels you instantly tighten around him.

“Come on, my sweet love” He pants, hand rubbing messy, uncoordinated, circles upon it “Let go for me, please? Trust in your god, and let that coil within you snap. Make a mess of the both of us.”

You keen and whine, the pressure building to an almost painful level within you. Though the dam finally breaks when you felt his length hit a particularly sweet spot within you, one that had you seeing stars. Your back arched, as you felt your breath hitch in your throat; unable to make any noise as your mind and body ascended to that plane of euphoria once more.

Hanta could not help but follow suit. Only a few messy thrusts and he stills inside you, his grinding up against the swell of your thighs as he moans; painting your insides with his seed - finally claiming you, completely, as his own. After regaining his breathing, though not fully, and placing your legs back down; he starts to pull out of you.

“No please!” You cry out, eyes turning glassy as you wrap your arms and legs around him once more “Stay with me please! I don’t want you to go!��

“I am not going anywhere, I promise” He smiled gently down at you, tucking your head under his chin as he pulled you to lay atop of him.

Hanta watched your breathing, watching you try and calm down. He cannot blame you for being so emotional, after all the highs the aphrodisiac gives are much stronger than anything you have ever been used to.

He smirks to himself when he sees your breathing finally began to even out, sleep over-taking you in its grasp. For now, he finally has you right where he wants you. And now, thanks to that wonderful potion, you will never, or want to, leave him.

Much like a rose and its petals, once one is swept away by the wind it is gone; forever. You were his rose petal and he was the wind that snatched you away.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #bnha sero #mha sero #bnha oneshots #mha oneshot #sero x you #bnha smut #mha smut #sero hanta smut #sero smut #🔮.the peddler brews #🔮.potion for sero

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bitchlessdino · 1 year ago

Text

TPC: Vernon and Chan's solution to love triangles

Series

Pairing: vernon x afab!reader x chan

Genre: smut

Word count: 4.3k

tags: friends to lovers, bi/pan poly, queer dynamics, mlm content, dirty talking, praise kink, spanking, clit slapping, pet names (doll, baby), ass play, double pen., spitting, fingering, oral (giving and recieveing), throat bulge kink, cum eating, face sitting, couch sex, desk sex, unprotective sex, cream pies, no respect for someone else's private space lol

Summary: Nobody fucking like love triangles, especially you. So what was the perfect solution to that problem? You guessed it.

author note: it's pride so this is pretty gay, enjoyyyyy

Tag list: @iwouldbangchan @1uvlywon @just-here-to-read-01 @candidupped @minnie-mouser22 @shiningstar-byulxx @90s-belladonna @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @lovelyhan

Sometimes being told that your best friend has these intense, overpowering feelings for you other than a friend would has teh potential to change teh trajectory of your dynamic. Being told that it was both your best friends that have these feelings was just internal chaos. Chan and Vernon usually weren’t like that. Since learning about those things, it’s been hard to breathe, suffocating even, especially at a party where the air was a limited quantity.

“Another drink?”

You hand Vernon your solo cup to fill and he refreshes it with ice cold beer, softly smiling back at you. He hands it back to you, your fingers grazing his, and natural electricity runs over his skin. “Thanks.”

“A-anytime.” He stutters.

Vernon hasn’t been himself since his confession. He’s been walking on eggshells waiting for an answer, and he doesn’t doubt that Chan is going through the same. They both agreed to let you take your time and would not resent you for the answer you give. Still, a selfish side of him hoped it’d be him.

Chan joins you both soon enough leaning close to your ear, whispering a gentle “Hi,” before back hugging you. You let out light chuckles before grasping his forearms, and greeting him back. Vernon stands a foot away, envious of Chan’s openness and courage that Vernon only imagines having.

What Vernon doesn’t know is Chan can only get that far pretending he knows what to do, when in fact it’s the opposite. His guess is just as good as his best friend's. He has no idea who you’d choose in the end. He only knows that he has to act fast.

“Dance with me,” he requests, waiting for your nod of approval before he sweeps you away to the center of the room and leaves Vernon behind.

You feel the safety of Chan’s broad build taking up the space behind you, grazing the sensitivity of your arms as he sways you to the beat of the music. You allow him to guide you, tickling the nape of your neck with his breath scented with confectioners sugars. You hum in delight, throwing your head against his shoulder as you drink in the air. To which, Chan can't help but be dazzled by you, mesmerized by the energy you exude.

“I know you wanted to take your time in making a decision and I respect that but I hope you don’t mind me doing some convincing,” His hands find home on your body, dragging them by your sides, and settling on your hips. You lightly gasp, fingers curling up in uncertainty, yet you felt no desire to part ways. You can only focus on the alluring deep rasp of his voice, “You look so fucking incredible tonight.”

“You too, Chan,” you say with a small smile, feeling him only wrap tighter around you. You involuntarily moan as he presses you deeper against his front side, feeling the shape of his bulge nudge you. You can practically feel your arousal pool between your legs, threatening to leave the sanctity of your walls. Your bodies melt into each until you’re one, succumbing to Chan’s body language that speaks in pure unbridled lust. You visibly swoon, falling deeper into the spell of the man whose smile glows brighter than the stars in the night sky.

His lips seductively trail against your neck, “We’re like magic together. Don’t you think so?”

You can feel a confirmation come up your throat until someone places themself in front of you. To your shock, Vernon stands before you and takes your hands, letting them come against his neck. “Hope you don’t mind if I join in.”

Vernon can feel the heat of his romantic rival’s glare but ignores it as he claims his spot. “Of course,” you answer with a soft smile, earning a smile back from the man in front.

Vernon’s reluctant elegance is stark in contrast with Chan’s obvious carnal, giving the best of both worlds. Chan stays at his distance, and the same could be said of Vernon, eyes coated in love as his hand holds politely right at the waist.

This is a bizarre situation to be in, to begin with, and you can’t believe for a second that you’re the person in the middle. Yet, your heart flutters as Vernon tucks your hair over your shoulder, breath fanning over your skin as he leans in just slightly doing so. You were in no position to complain.

You let out a soft gasp, feeling the pebbling of your skin before he pulls away. “I don’t know how much competition I am to Chan, bu—“

“Don’t say that,” you interrupt.

“But,” he continues, “I’m glad to at least be in your thoughts.”

“You’re more than in my thoughts. I care about Vern—I care about the both of you…And I think my answer is clear.”

One second. It’s all it takes—and maybe Vernon’s honey brown eyes staring back at you with so much admiration as if you’re seconds away from turning into a puddle—for you to pull him in a heated kiss. Releasing your inhibitions, you sink into him and flushed against his heat. Your teeth occasionally clashing, entangled with him desperately, your descending moans from your lips as he presses against you, lost in his dream turned reality. You could blame the alcohol, you can blame the R&B playing, you can even blame Vernon's words beaming with sincerity, but really you blame yourself.

In a moment of self-wallow, Chan falters back as he witnesses the scene firsthand. He has every nerve to back off, accepting your decisions per your agreement, but before does, a grip takes Chan’s arm and collides his bodies back to his friends in heated lip lock. His eyes shoot back at your figures in surprise, hearing you make out the word “stay” amongst the noise. Uneven breaths leave him as you part from Vernon’s lips and connect with Chan’s instead.

He tastes what Vernon tastes, visceral lust running through your veins as your lips defiling his until you’re tasting every corner of his mouth. You were like a drug, one that would have him committed and he knows since then he could never have enough of you. He can’t help but return the same energy, languidly moving his lips against yours until you move on to Vernon, their intense jointed lips making Chan more aroused rather than disappointed.

You continue what you started at in a vacant room in the lesser occupied area of the house. Your brain would have recalled that this was the closed-off home office the party host forbade anyone from entering if not for the fact one man’s hand is down your pants and kissing your neck, while the other leads you with his lips and fingers threading through your hair.

You moan feverishly against his lips and pull off his jacket and white tee to abandon them on the ground. You caress his sculpted body, feeling the deep valleys of his abdomen, cupping his chest, while your fingers tingle and excitement churns your stomach. His body was heaven, a safe space, and you could not wait to scratch up his skin, marking it purple, and claiming him yours. “Mmh, Chan…”

The blond presses to your side, grinning from ear to ear against your lips. “Yes, baby.” His term of endearment made you gush, smiling back at him like a love sick puppy before you pull him back against your lips, a leg clenching to his side to keep him close. You moan louder as the man behind you works inside you with more vigor, whines leaving your lips as you buck your hips in frustration. “So…good…”

“What's that? Vernon fingers up your pussy feel good?”

You moan a confirmation to Chan, earning a tender kiss under your ear, the owner of the lips pressing his fingers between your slit as his thumb pads over your clit. “Say it louder for me, doll.”

“You make me feel so good, Vernon,” you respond, only hearing the squelch of his fingers as he pleasures you.

“Good job,” he whispers delicately before letting your bottoms hit the ground. You gasp as his big hands grow rough and sharp inside you as they curve in between your damp walls. Chan looks back at you grinning, moving hair away from your face, and a deep chuckle leaves his lips. “You look like a pretty little mess. Makes me want to ruin you.”

“I’m sure they’d like that, Chan. Their pretty pussy cumming all over our cocks until they black out,” Vernon eggs.

Moaning at the thought, Chan lifts your chin with two fingers to meet his gaze, the darkness taking over his eyes that had you weak at the knees. “That sounds like a delicious evening.”

Leisurely, Chan’s fingers undo your shirt, revealing the scandalously deliciously red garment underneath. He bites his bottom lip—pleased with what he sees— before he wraps his lips around you to taste lace. He feels you grow against his tongue, pretty and wet. You softly whimper and circles being drawn on your skin, while Vernon takes care of your sopping cunt the way a washer cycles clothing: thoroughly wet and loudly. “S-shit…”

“You feel so wet around my fingers.”

You arch into the man behind you, a guttural moan escaping you.

“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about doing this.” His words are so delicate, like a butterfly in the midst of a storm. Your climax is so close you could almost taste it, but Chan shakes his head, pulling you forward and away from the tension. “Not yet, we’re going to wait just like you’ve made us wait.”

Vernon quickly adjusts to the situation and lets his hand go limp, preventing the eruption of your climax and following his best friend’s lead. “Right. It’s only fair.” He withdraws his hand to bring his fingers up to your lips, tapping at them for entry, to which he is easily granted access. You wrap around his digits delectably, your arousal sweet and familiar past your lips. He groans back at you, his groin rubbing to your side in thirst. “Such a good doll.”

In an instant, Chan pushes you against the leather couch occupying the end of the room. His hands glide over your thighs and fondle your breast, while Vernon kisses your eager lips. Every inch of your body feels like pure fire. Adrenaline pumps in your veins and you have never been so intensely aroused.

“Are you gonna give an answer?” Chan prods. “Or are you test driving? Seeing who’s capable of making you cum faster and harder?” The tips of his fingers aim at your clit, feeling the reflex of your hips buck back against him, earning his smug grin. “Or is our pretty baby that selfish you want us both to yourself?”

You act as though you can’t hear him, but you truly can’t hear him. Your brain makes sense of what he says but your body prevents you from speaking, and all you can do is moan, shake, or cry in response. Vernon finally parts from you to look directly back into your eyes, “Answer him, doll.”

You gasp aching, turning to Chan's domineering gaze. “N-no, I can’t choose. I need both of you. I-I’m selfish.”

“Why?” He hits it again, now hearing the whimper once muffled from Vernon’s lips. “What’s it about us you need both so badly?”

You could write an essay about how both individually made you feel but you had no words that could describe how they felt together. It simply could not be compromised. You love both so deeply and you can’t imagine anything different. Chan is not without Vernon, Vernon is not without Chan, but you were not without both. Choosing one would be pure blasphemy in your eyes.

Your thoughts get muddled by Chan’s impatience as he dives face-first between your legs. His tongue pulsates like it has a mind of its own, teasing you until bounding himself to your cunt. His arms come over your thighs and he tugs them to hug his cheeks, prickling you all over with goosebumps. “So…sweet…all mine…”

He could only describe your taste as ambrosia: nectar of the gods. If he believed in any of them, he imagines you would be what they sought out. If he wasn’t already mindlessly in love with you, right now he was sincerely obsessed with you. Your scent, your texture, your ache. You embody pure sex, that much he understands, but what else was there to learn?

You can feel himself groaning in the depths of your walls as his tongue darts faster in you, accompanied by his fingers soon after. Pushing one—“Mmh, Chan”—no, thrusting two —“fuck like that”—actually three plunging in so deep to find the center of your core—“shit…”

“Yes, eat their pussy so good, Chan. They love it so much.”

Your moan echoes in the unnecessarily big room, throwing your head back on the couch while Vernon unclasps your bra and helps it come off. His lips latch on your tit, round eyed and beautiful, and take the other in his hand, pinching and rolling your stiff peak. His teeth come gently around you between sucks as your hand runs through his soft silver-blue hair. Moans leaving between your pressed lips, you ingrain the sensation in your brain, holding for keepsake.

“Doll sounds so pretty being devoured…Chan is good at it, isn’t he? His dirty mouth making your wet pussy feel good?”

You barely make out a nod to Vernon before you notice Chan's wet chin gliding up your slit to suck harshly against your clit, dark orbs staring back at you with a black heat. You choke back your answer, clenching around Chan’s face as you cut off his airways and nearly suffocate him.

Your other hand keeps his head down, feeling him lapping up your arousal and slathering his cheeks in your mess as you ride him in your stead. The blonde moans only grow louder, burying his imminent grave inside you as he swears he loses consciousness. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“Chan, You’re doing it so good, keep it up. They’re so close.”

His fingers drive through you at a merciless rhythm, your peak of arousal comes in waves and your body thrashes from the intense sensation as you buck into his mouth in release. His name is on your tongue like prayer fearing him, thanking him, worshiping him. He pulls himself up, eyes blown out like a mindless zombie, lips glossed with a sex sheen of your cum. “That was so good...”

“Chan.”

The blonde hears his name, soft and malleable, but only realizes it’s a voice slightly gruffer than the person he expects. Vernon leans forward to his friend, eyes shaken from the glossy sheen coating their mouth, and before he realizes, he’s claiming Chan’s lips, tasting your climax.

Your heart pounds sporadically watching them in lip lock. Vernon’s tongue aiming in and out of the blonde mouth to lick up your mess and you feel the heat of your core erupt again. Chan’s hands run through Vernon’s silver locks, expelling an impish moan as he palms his boner through his pants. “Vern…”

The moment the nickname leaves his lips, the younger pulls away, face still a mess, and he sees a matching expression on Vernon. “I…I didn’t mean for that—“

“That was insane.” You interrupt and the back of Chan’s head to reunite your lips. Meanwhile, Vernon is still processing what’s just happened. Hands against his mouth, he’s replaying how he initiated, about how Chan kissed him back just as vigorously, and how he can still feel the ghost of his lips on his. Perhaps there was more to his—and Chan’s—feelings than anyone in this room anticipated.

The silver fox is pulled out of his trace when he tastes your lips, and his thought process melts into oblivion the moment your hands land on his pants. You hurriedly drop them to his ankles and reach for his cock, upright and needy for the mouth inches away from him. “You’re so big, Vernon…” You drag him over your tongue, feeling his twitch, while he’s watching you take his cock and how your plush ass lifts up in the air.

Chan’s familiar fingers run along your slit, feeling you pulsate around despite having already came. “You’re so wet for us, baby,” Chan says, knowing the other man is watching as he drags his fingers in you–mewls vibrating around Vernon’s cock–and his lips kiss the rim of your entrance.

You moan something incomprehensive, only pushing your rear back to Chan as he devours you clean, licking circles and sucking you in loud slurps. There’s something about the power of his mouth, reducing you to a feeble mess that was just so hot, Vernon couldn’t help but blush. Moments before, Vernon would’ve just assumed he was turned on by the blatant euphoria in your eyes–which were indeed intoxicating–but after that kiss, he realizes that it’s possibly more than that.

“You have such pretty holes, baby. I want to fill them up so badly with cum.” The blonde is obviously saying the words to you, given the context, but the way his eyes look Vernon feels like it was meant for him. It renders him practically speechless.

“You want us in your holes, baby? You want us to fuck you open?”

Your whines got only more immense, seizing pleasure from Vernon’s cock, and finally, he moves, rocking back into you. Fueled by tension, his cock hits the end of your throat, the shape of his head bulging at the column of your throat and he whines, erupting the goosebumps to appear on Chan’s arms that go unnoticed by anyone but. Vernon’s hand combs through your hair as the other rubs that column of your neck. His gaze drops at you, watching the tears swell up in your eyes and you’re evidently breathing through your nose. “My cock looks so good stuck in your perfect, pretty throat—fuck…feels so good…”

Chan lifts his knees to the couch, stroking his cock he exposed without anyone noticing, lathering your cum at your slit with the tip and then up your puckered rim. He sucks on his digits, getting them wet, before easing them inside your ass. You clench around him in response, causing him to strike at your cheek with a free hand. You jolt forward, pushing a groaning Vernon’s cock deep down your throat.

“Spread your ass for me if you want to be stretched nice and wide.”

The tears shed burned your cheeks, but you obliged. Arching your back, knees further apart, your hands spread your divide to submit to Chan. Your eyes repeatedly roll back to your head, slightly relieved when Vernon pulls your head off his cock to breathe, and let the obscene and barely coherent speech from your lips. “Please please please, I need you. Fuck me. Fuck me please…”

“Can you take it, hmm,” Chan spanks your ass, “Are your pretty holes gonna take our cocks?”

“Yes, yes, give it to me please.”

Chan scoffs. “Beg louder.”

“Please, Chan. I want you and Non inside of me. I want to feel your cum spill inside of me—ah!” His spit slathers over you, spanks repeating back on your ass, your pussy, everything. Filthy and demeaning. “Such a dirty thing. Lucky for you, you’ve been a good listener. We’ll make sure to give you what you want. Won’t we, Vernon?”

Vernon takes second to answer, shifting his throat at his swallows. “I-I’ll make sure she doesn’t waste a drop.”

Chan grins proudly. “Good boy.”

You move over to the desk, not caring about the papers that flew off from it, and Vernon casually plants his naked body on the edge waiting for you to hop on him. He strokes up his shaft, using his other arm to pull you up on the desk but without slight stumbling, to which he finds the grip to steady you. “Got you, doll.”

“Thank you, Vernon.” You giggle, arms looping around his neck.

His hands smooth over your ass possessively, gripping it in his wide palms before striking your cheeks. “What a perfect ass,” he lowly growls.

“It is,” Chan agrees, licking his lips and approaching after with his hard, red cock in his hand, “I sure can’t wait to see it bounce on my cock. You first, Vernon.”

The silver-haired man attempts his best to hold you by your legs and lines your entrance. You come to his aid and lower him in your slit to feel your plush walls. You take the moment to adjust to his size, his warmth running shivers down his spine and you begin to feel the tension up your abdomen. “Vernon…”

“So wet and tight…” his hand lowers to your ass, kneading balls of your flesh. “God, you’re perfect.”

Chan gets closer—hand over Vernon’s, which runs that familiar sensation of electricity he’s used to from you—and he helps himself get an advantage. He pulls you slightly to align with your ass and eases in, letting out a dry breath and cussing as if his life depended on it. Your jaw drops at the fullness, the stretch so excruciating that your whines ebb in a long period, comparable to a dial tone. You press your chest to Vernon’s, your breast rubbing against him so lewdly, it took every turn in him to not pump the brakes on his pace. “Gorgeous doll, my perfect doll.”

Your screams become pounding and lingering, moaning their names in ache. “Oh god…”

“You like that?” Chan's hand stings on your skin, firmly grasping you while you take every deep thrust. “I love fucking you. You take my cock so damn well.”

Your head nods in musical rhythm. “More. Please. More…”

Vernon brushing sweaty strands of hair off your face. “You look so beautiful being fucked dumb…” You softly thank him, a swelling sensation in your heart as he embraces your side. He kisses up your face, tasting the salt on your skin. You beg you whine, you take, feeling their uneven pace eventually syncing up in wonderful harmony.

You can’t imagine them going any deeper, that is until they do, bottoming out in you until paralyzing your limbs in shock, only contracting from your stomach. “Oh god, I’m close…cum in me please…please…”

Chan feels you writhe beneath him, processing the truth in your words, and takes a look over to his friends to meet his eyes. “Are you close too, Vernon?”

Struggling, the man barely comes up with a “yes.”

A corner of his lips picks up before leaning against your back, kissing your soft skin, and fucking you practically balls deep. “Are you gonna cum? Hmm, think about it.” Chan’s sweaty blond strands hitting at his dark brown eyes that entice him like a siren. His teeth dig at his bottom lip, offering a sultry expression with a hint of jester. “Don’t you think they’ll look gorgeous with their pussy full of cum?”

“Chan…” the older boy whines.

“Come on, they’re begging for it.” Chan’s teeth graze your skin, tongue following their path. “Cum for them. Cum for me, Vernon…”

Vernon's thrusts gets more desperate, needier, and the sound of the blonde's voice holds him like a chokehold. “S-s-shit..” White covers your cunt inside out, pure heat and animalistic release and you tremble uncontrollably on top of him. You kiss him, gratefully, your warm smile touching the blossom of his cheeks. He feels like he’s on cloud nine.

Chan doesn’t take long to follow up, his cum practically dripping out of you like a geyser. Eyes rolling back, he pumps what feels like endlessly in you, leaking out until he does finally pull out and it inevitably spills on the fur carpet. Not a face of remorse in sight. His breathing takes over him, trying to catch his breath, but prideful more than anything.

Vernon leans into your ear. “Doll, sit on my face, please.”

You’re pleasantly surprised by his request but fulfill his wishes, feeling his tongue lap up the cum dripping out of you like it’s his last meal. You were still sensitive to everything they’ve done, panting like a dog in the summer heat, but this has all been worth it. You barely muster the energy to peer down. Seeing him so enticingly lewd, his eyes look black with lust, while the tip of his nose presses lightly against your clit. He swallows every drop, keeping his promise and it's like heaven all over again.

Chan comes to your side, lips depositing kisses on your skin. “He’s such a good boy.”

At some point, you’re licked clean–another orgasm in its wake–and you're all back against the couch, your sweat-drenched bodies ruining the leather. You let the silence fester, too tired to speak, and let your bodies air dry from the intense physical activity. “So,” Chan laces his fingers through yours. “There’s no monogamous answer for what just happened, is there?”

Vernon chuckles and shakes his head, taking your other hand. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, in that case,” Chan sits up to look back at Vernon, red in the face and ears. Clearly, he’s hesitant about his confession but there was no turning back now. “Better time than ever to say I had a crush on you in middle school but never admitted it.”

The other man's eyes shoot open, face tickled pink just as bright as the blond, if not brighter. “…me too.”

You let out an amused cough, redirecting their attention to you. “Well, then we never really had that big of a problem, to begin with then.”

They both smile at you before simultaneously kissing your cheeks, then each other, and then all together before the tension starts heating up all over again—

“I hear you horny fuckers in there! Get out of there before I kick your sorry asses!”

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breannasfluff · 1 year ago

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Great job on 400k words!

[COLLAPSE], sender wild and reciever legend

Can it be in the Wing Bois au please?

[ COLLAPSE ]: a weakened sender (either from exhaustion or injuries or whatever!) sinks into the receiver’s embrace, only to collapse in their arms, too weak to move.

Flock, want flock, Legend calls, and Hylia above, isn’t that embarrassing. He’s a grown bird, not a chick to be chirping for attention. But the recent battle was hard and bloody. Hyrule exhausted himself pushing his healing abilities and keeping them safe. Now he’s nothing more than a ball of feathers, sleeping it off.

The rest of the group are sprawled in various stages of wakefulness.

Flock safe, comes Time’s tired whistle.

The bowerbird knows they are safe, that’s not what he’s looking for. Still, he stifles the instinctual call for attention as it well ups. It’s not Time’s job to baby him.

Hyrule may be out of commission, but Wild is not. He whistles their sub-flock call, hauling himself off the ground where he was sprawled. Come here, he signals.

Legend is moving before he can second guess himself. His wings, twitching with tension, settle as he sinks into Wild’s arms. The magpie gives a gentle coo and nudges the side of the vet’s head.

Bowerbirds are social birds, just like magpies. Legend often covers it up with bravado and a grouchy attitude, but he likes a hug and a cuddle as much as Wild.

“We’re okay,” Wild hums, and sinks further into the embrace.

Only, he keeps sinking.

“Wild?”

Comfort rapidly tips into panic as the magpie goes limp in his arms. Legend is suddenly juggling dead weight, a nervous whistle breaking the silence. “Wild? Are you okay?”

“...sorry,” he mumbles, struggling to hold up his weight. It’s futile. “Think I…just need a rest.”

Worry, worry! Legend calls, and then Time is there, worried about his flock. The kite helps him guide Wild to the ground.

“Shit,” the vet hisses, because there’s a wet stain spreading along Wild’s side. “Stupid bird, why didn’t you say something?” Leave it to the magpie to get injured and decide to be self-sacrificing.

Wild groans, lashes fluttering. “Hyrule was tired.”

“That doesn’t mean we want you to bleed out!”

“Twilight,” Time calls, “do we have any leftover potions and bandages?”

“On it!”

Legend coos with worry, carefully smoothing feathers crushed to the dirt. “Wild…”

“...’m fine, Ledge.”

He’s definitely not fine. The bowerbirds worry spills into warbles and whistles, gaining strength as Wild flags.

“Wild?” A sub-flock chirp has Legend glancing up to see Hyrule, exhausted but alert, coming over. His wings drag on the ground. “What’s going–you’re hurt!”

Wild bats at the air vaguely. “Fine! Don’t worry about it.”

Naughty, naughty, Hyrule chirps, but it’s light-hearted. Despite being overdrawn already, he reaches out and a pink glow surrounds his hands.

“Hyrule…” Time’s worry is clear.

“I’ll be okay. Just enough to keep this silly chick from passing out.”

The kite subsides, taking the bandages that Twilight passes him.

By the time Wild’s wound is mostly healed and bandages, Legend and Hyrule have commandeered spots on either side of him, crowding close and fluffing wings to keep him hidden. There’s no need to, of course, but it’s instinct to surround their flockmate in feathers and safety.

Thank you, love you, Wild coos, and Hyrule and Legend give an answering call. Careful of the wound, Legend winds an arm around Wild’s chest and nuzzles closer. It may not be a full on hug, but it’s enough.

Prompt List

#Bre's hug prompts #lu wing bois #lu wing au #lu wild #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu triple threat #linked universe #linkeduniverse #whoops this got long #I just love them a lot okay #my writing

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annabelle-creart · 4 months ago

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The 13 Primes Au

Some world building for you, my fellow bitches

This became kind of crazy since I let Inept involve in this, so, I needed to reconstruct the world, so, it doesn't feel blurry in my head and/or out of context, this is some kind of first version/guide

Ps: this Au contains story from the Aligned continuity and Earthspark (only the first season, the second never happened)

Ps2: don't use this timeline as reference for the Life of Rescue Bots au, or you will lose your mind

✨️✨️✨️

At the Beginning, when the Primes were created, well, you already know that, so, let's go more in the future

The first dead one was Thirteenth, died during the Unicron's battle

The second was Amalgamous because of Megatronus

The third one was Solus by Megatronus' hand (aka. Cannon)

The fourth one was Onyx (injured but managed to escape)

The fifth one was Megatronus (ahem 'suicide')

The six one was Liege, killed by the rest for his crimes

The seven one was Quintus, killed by his own creations

The eight one was Prima (aka. Suicide, again)

The nine sibling was Micronus, who left the job searching for some peace

The ten and eleven siblings were Alchemist and Alpha Trion, searching for his dead siblings, believing they would find them in another life

The twelve prime was Vector, bored of his loneliness and wanted some vacation

Nexus system separated a lot of time ago but still exist without needing reincarnation

✨️✨️✨️A LOT OF TIME LATER, AS TOLD IN CYBERTRONIAN HISTORY, WHICH I DON'T KNOW AND DUE TO, I WILL NOT TELL, ONLY THE IMPORTANT✨️✨️✨️

Heatwave and his team end up Lost in Space (I should do a crossover with that series, it can be interesting, but not today), during the stasis he unlocked his prime memories

Meg became decepticon leader after Orion recieved the Matrix and unlocked his prime's memories, bla bla bla

War war war

Soundwave unlocked his memories as Alpha Trion on what remained of the destoyed archives

Shockwave unlocked his memories as Alchemist when Soundwave hit him on the head, doing damage to his emotion supressors

Cybertron got fucked up and all who remained had to escape, they saw an habitable planet with energon and both sides went there, Megatron with the Nemesis and Optimus with the Ark, forming the teams we know now from Earthspark, making some human friends

In human calendar it was the 80's, during that period, cybertronians had to remain in secret to evade the human forces, but with the time (more time than they thought), humans ended up finding their secret (decepticon's fault) and humans had to got involve, the Autobots, to guarantee their safety, allied with humans, settling their base in Jasper, Nevada, meeting on the process 3 teens named Jack, the son of a nurse on the military hospital, Raphael, the youngest son of a soldier of the base, and Miko, who got there by accident and stayed because she was bored, becoming in secret their most dearest comrades

During that time, Makeshift unlocked his memories as Amalgamous after almost being killed by both sides, hiding and not letting himself be seen

Time passed, and energon mines got each time hard to get due to decepticon's handwork, and the worst part was the battles, each time worse than the last one, until finally one of those battles made Megatron got seriously hurt, Starscream tried to use it on its advantage, and Optimus, incapable of let Megatron died by his fault again, saved him against all his comrades and friends' wish.

Megatron unlocked his memories after almost dying, and, mostly cause of the trauma, decided to redeem himself by becoming an autobot to try to end the war, not before making a lot of the harm that happened during Transformers Prime...

When Miko and Jack, who became military cadets and became even more closer to the transformers for recommendation, also being assigned to Bulkhead and Arcee as human fellows, Optimus, Iron Hide and Megatron got assigned to Charlie Burns, William Fowler and Dorothy Malto, becoming the ten of them the most fierce and strong human-cybertronian team of all of times, and had nothing to fear

Until the battle on the bridge

Where the Allspark got lost

Dorothy lost her leg that day, Optimus arm wasn't the same as before, and Iron Hide lost his life. Since that day, Dot had to retire from the army, and Fowler was reassigned on special forces, Miko and Jack were the only humans that remained because Charlie also retired to return home, but kept contact with Dot, Fowler and Optimus

✨️✨️✨️SOME TIME LATER BUT NOT AS MUCH AS BEFORE, JUST A FEW YEARS✨️✨️✨️

A patrol ship on stasis was reactivated thanks to Raphael skills (and a little help from Soundwave), Heatwave, now with the memories of Solus, and the rescue team was reubicated on an island by Optimus' request, both him and Megatron recognizing Heatwave as Solus, and as I told in another post before, they payed a visit with Bulkhead and Bumblebee to the island (finding Shockwave and Soundwave by accident and also discovering they are primes AND Heatwave's twin-sparks) and Megatron had a talk with Heatwave when he slip all his venom toward Meg and then left (how bad it was)

✨️Some time later but just a year or half a year✨️

BOOM, TERRANS, Dot only wanted a normal life as forest keeper with his kids and husband and end up becoming a "my kids found a magic stone and now I have five more kids and my bestie is also trying to understand why"

Bumblebee had to take care of them while everyone thought he was dead, but no, he was racing (no estaba muerto, estaba de parranda)

And spoiler: Breakdown is not dead, Knockout, who also became an autobot to avoid prison, kept him as hide as possible, but Breakdown is too hothead for that, whatever, the terrans, how the new Dot's kids were named, had a really rough year, almost being killed by Mandroid who used the Emberstone to shout down all cybertronians, including the terrans...!

But wait, why Nightshade is the only one still on his pedes? And that answer kept him awake for weeks. When the battle just end up, Nightshade took some of the dust the Emberstone left, and studying it, they found it was alive and possesed like a ghost one of their best gadgets, telling them and the rest of their family Nightshade was a Prime, especifically, Quintus Prime. The Emberstone, who they called Ember for short, told them she didn't shout down Nightshade because she recognized them as her Prime, and as her Prime, she wasn't capable of doing harm to them, especially after all what she did to kept them safe after Quintus dead

Also, thanks to Mandroid's shout down, the new Primes could localize the Allspark that they thought it was lost, and Optimus, Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, Makeshift (in bad terms but wanting to go home) went to space find it (in bad terms also with GHOST but they were kind of desestabilized, so, the new team of Primes used it on their favor), during that period, that for Earth it took like one year, they managed to find the Allspark, and sacrificing the Matrix (but not Optimus this time) they could resurrect Cybertron and take it on their original state

✨️✨️✨️MEANWHILE, ON GRIFFIN ROCK JUST AFTER MANDROID'S ATTACK ENDED, I MEAN, BEFORE FINDING THE ALLSPARK✨️✨️✨️

The team also got shout down by accident during Mandroid's attack, and when they were resucited again (Heatwave: if I had a coin for each time I came to live, I had two, which it's not much but it's strange it happened twice JSAKKASJ) they found a signal near, it was a stasis ship with two young bots, Blurr and Salvage, a caverman, and an metallic egg in stasis, surrounded by an ancient language

Cody felt like hipnotized by the egg, and when it hatched, THEY FOUND A GRIFFIN PREDACON!!!! (which I still don't have a name or gender for it, give me ideas, please)

And so they were all that year taking care of a predacon baby, Cody who for some reason had an special bond with it (Heatwave knew Cody and the griffin were two parts of Onyx's spark but didn't tell), two teens who became rescue bots only because they didn't had anything else to do, and a little bot named Sissi who was brought to the island with Hightide- WHY THE DOG GIVES HEATWAVE PRIME VIBES???

It's because he was, that's how Heatwave figured out Servo was Micronus Prime, a Prime... in the metal of a dog... wow

Whatever, when the year ended up and Optimus returned to Earth with the notice Cybertron was again working, most of the cybertronian population on Earth came back to start again, others stayed on Earth to evade the justice system

The Rescue Bots didn't wanted to return to Cybertron, but they had family there they wanted to met again, so, they only returned for a short time, during that period, Optimus was on Earth trying to put some order on what remained, making some paperwork

And the time again passed, Cybertron was being reconstructed and with the promise of a better future, a long time passed, like three years on Earth, the Rescue Team lived in peace on Griffin Rock, visiting their relatives on Cybertron some time to time, while the team Prime were having busy but satisfactory days, Cybertron was again a star in the darkness, of course, changing the ways of the past and their old system, like once Prima did with the first cybertronians.

During Bumblebee's stady on Earth, the Council accused Optimus of traitor due to Galvatron's secret manipulation from the shadows, and with it, everyone who was with him, also figuring out Optimus was actually Prima Prime, thanks to Liege Maximo, the council couldn't let the people know the Primes weren't as they thought, and they couldn't let the people know it was their fault all the disasters that Cybertron went through, were their fault, the quintessons, the civil war, the scraplets, if the people knew they all were fault of the Primes, Cybertron would start a civil war against them that the council wasn't sure they could handle (I'm still unsure if this was what Sideswipe saw or make it another thing, like, "this is bad but this wasn't what I saw, so, maybe it's worse" kind of shit)

But there was a problem: Galvatron, who never lost his memories as Liege Maximo, take control as could over the Council, Optimus wanted to change things, and changed a lot of it during these three years since the resurrection of Cybertron, now it was a little more like Earth, and they repaired as much as they could the damage of before, now New Cybertron was nothing like the old Cybertron, but Liege had a new plan, and tried to kill Optimus, instead, he put him on a choma, but now without him, Cybertron had to direct itself for some time.

Time later, Bumblebee, as a high ranked militar, was sent to Earth to reach and capture criminals who escaped a prison, leaving a checkpoint to the things that happened in RiD15, with Strongarm, his most beloved cadet, and Sideswipe, an idiot that was just here as punishment, they had to remain in secret, so, the people on Earth would not suspect about decepticons anymore, having some help from a junkyard's owner, his son, and Raphael, who Bumbeblee didn't saw in a lot of time, also adding Fix It, the pilot of the ship and Grimlock, another dino bot that was prisioner, and so they were on regular missions, until Sideswipe had a bad hit on his head and unlocked his memories as Vector, and with it, a premonition, a bad feeling and a vision, if they didn't do something as Primes when the moment comes, Cybertron will be fucked up again...

Since then, all the leader who had a relastionship with Optimus were searched as traitors and banned from Cybertron, like Megatron, Bumblebee, Heatwave, and with it, Earth itself, making impossible to come back again, now, Sideswipe gave himself the mission of search for his siblings, try to fix their relationships, and be prepared for what's to come, because Bumblebee will have to handle a lot of shit coming from the council, and if they wanted to search for them outside of Cybertron, nothing will be like before if not worse...

✨️And if you ask for the RBA events, those events would be a lot of time later, like, after the end of the council's problem with the Primes, when everyone is safe again✨️

✨️✨️✨️

This is as far what I have, I didn't watch RiD15 complete, so, I don't have a lot of it planned, but definitely, if I decided to write seriously about this, ALL THIS SHIT WILL GO STRAIGHT TO HELL AKSKAKSKSNS but don't worry, I like Happy endings too much to not to give them one

Whatever, I hope you enjoyed the read and give me your thoughts, and also ideas for Sideswipes vision and the Predacon's name (Inept, help me👀 but everyone is welcomed to left suggestions)

Whatever, I love you, thanks for reading, bye!!!

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astarab1aze · 4 months ago

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@azurescaled

He'd been laying in his hammock for some time, arms crossed behind his head to serve as a pillow, gently swaying in what little breeze could blow in from the entrance to his cabin. Rather, he'd been staring at the ceiling, glaring into unevenly cut wood and grain, tacitly picking apart his own craftsmanship. He built this boat himself after all, but now he was thinking that if he could've done so, he would've built it differently, used different wood. Well, actually--

He was avoiding someone. How unlike him! after all, he was quite the seeker of attention - always so pleased with himself when taking on the form of a little stray cat, recieving free bits of food and a good scratching for his silly efforts. But this person was different! They were a dragon wearing the skin of a man, and Satra didn't have the best history with dragons... He'd killed lesser drakes, Dessudora herself, and plenty of gas adders. It was entirely unlikely he would get along with this strange interloper, but if he was so certain of that, why did he invite him onto his boat?

Well, he couldn't just leave the guy. Southern Yuurei was as war torn as anywhere else, littered with Fhal'Tiran Jhevan attempting to conquer more of the Mistwood Tangle and oppress Yuureian elfhen- rob, pillage, murder, destroy everything in their path. The river Satra's boat happened to be gently rocking in, was far enough away from the conflict in Kasu-Gi, up-river a few tens of miles from Tata-Suki Port. Yet still, he could hear the explosive heartbeat of the people, fighting tooth and nail with sickles and pitchforks for their honor amid the crash of Feywild magic. He could feel them, and his heart beat in time. Slowing with the passing of one, hammering in his chest at the courage of another. No, he couldn't leave him so close to the battlefield, even though... Even though, Satra shouldn't have left it himself.

Still, upon arrival, he chose to avoid the dragonkin stranger. A wordless favor, keeping him out of combat so he could find his bearings, but before long, Sati knew he would have no choice but to leave him here and rejoin the fray. People were dying. They needed someone strong enough to deal an...impactful blow, do something that could eliminate enough of the invading Fhal'Tir to put a stop to their advance. He could do that, he could do it with his eyes closed, in an instant-- if he were there! Soon, yes, soon.

He rolled out of his hammock, tail curving with his spine to keep balance, and he padded through the opening of his cabin to find the dragon standing starboard, looking out over the river. He joined him there, leaning over hand-carved wood. What did he see beyond the rush of the river? What was he thinking about in the moment? Would he tell the panther, if he asked? Distracted.

"The best place to be is in the water, rather than above it." Satra muttered, friendly tones underscoring his words. "I must leave you 'ere long, but I will guide you further up-river before then - away from the fighting. No guest of mine shall be dragged into the thick of danger, I'll not stand for it; Getting you as close to Tata-Suki as possible will ensure you find safety quickly."

#☿ || Threads.#♞ // Verse: Of Endless Suffering.#azurescaled #/ i am terribly sorry!#/ i haven't forgotten don't you worry!#/ it's been a Time in the taro household

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nutzgunray-lvt · 1 year ago

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I think something that would have made Izuku strike out on his own all the more interesting (other than not telling anyone) would be if he came to the realization that UA kind of failed him.

He's recieved no useful information from anyone there regarding OFA until the Provisional License Exam (and even then it's bare bones comments), his homeroom teacher obviously has something against him and constantly singles him out, he's either gotten trouble or had his good deeds go unaknowledged since attending UA (saving Mineta, Asui, and Aizawa during the USJ attack, saving Ida and stopping Stain, saving Bakugou, stopping Gentle and Lady Brava) even after obtaining his Provisional Licensing Exam, his classmates see how Bakugou treats him yet they love the guy, and All Might just sits by as Bakugou badmouths the OFA users and Izuku (he should have NEVER been let in on OFA's secret).

It would have been AWESOME if All Might (and maybe some teachers too, idk 🤷‍♀️, it seems like they just sit around and let the students do everything) come to the realization that Izuku was failed and they have to get this boy to safety before he gets killed and/or kidnapped. They could set off to find him along with the Pro-Hero secret team - who if they had any functioning brain cells would say "I know that circumstances are awful right now and Izuku is aprehending many villains and saving a lot of people, but Izuku is not only AFO's top target, but he's a child who shouldn't have to shoulder this burden alone." I did like seeing the OFA remnants starting to get worried about him pushing himself too hard, but it would have been great to see a build up and build up to the point that even the Second user is like "okay this is going way too far, you need to rest". It was building up to that point (the Third user calling out the Second user for approving Izuku's self destructive thinking, and even the Second user admitting that he thinks Izuku needs help) , but no 🙄.

It also would have been great seeing Izuku's body breaking down more. It was mentioned he was using Black Whip to move around since he had little to no energy, but what if Danger Sense was constantly going off as well?

It would have been even more awesome if Class 1-A's fight with Izuku absolutely backfired and only drove him away. Maybe have him call them out on how they sit by and let Bakugou treat him, maybe have him call them out on how this really is a problem that only he can handle because even ALL MIGHT has no clue how to help with OFA at this point (not a knock against him).

He could run off, they could realize that he's right, and Izuku could still collapse, but with All Might catching him in his arms (NOT. FUCKING. BAKUGOU.)

Also, have Izuku go to the fucking hospital. There's no way he was pushing himself so hard to only need a bath and a nap to be at 100% again. It would have been great to have him actually TALK with his classmates, All Might, his teachers (because why even be teachers if we don't see them actually teach and guide the students 🤷‍♀️) about these feelings he was bottling up. They could realize that Izuku was right, PROPERLY APOLOGIZE, and try to work from here on out to make sure that he never gets to this point again. Also, have the teachers (you know, the ADULTS) be the ones telling the civillians that while they have every right to be scared, they're not going to throw a child out on the streets because of it.

Maybe even have the UA traitor strike while Izuku is hospitalized, making the teachers realize that they ignored this problem for too long and they should have listened to Present Mic 🤷‍♀️.

#izuku deserves better #mha critical #bnha critical #ua staff critical

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trappedtowers · 7 months ago

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THE SECURITY AND SURVIVAL CENTRE

ATTENTION RESIDENTS OF THE VALLEY. IF YOU RECIEVE THIS MESSAGE YOUR ATTENTION IS MANDATORY FOR SURVIVAL.

Welcome to The Security and Survival Centre, the core centre of operations for your survival in the new age of Alton Towers.

History:

When Nemesis attacked, most Phalanx members were ordered to fight alongside the Towers' mascots to stop it. As we know, this led to the end of the Phalanx - who failed their only mission. All except one singular Phalanx Scientist, who managed to escape a brutal death by the creature. They retreated back into the Phalanx Research Facility, the building the Phalanx had been using to prepare and monitor the activities of Alton Towers. With all their colleagues gone, and their safety compromised, they began doing what they could to rennovate the building. Eventually, they found the Air mascot - Cy - too, who joined them in the new hideout. After the initial few months, they had taken all three floors of the facility and transformed it into what it is today!

Long gone was the Phalanx... now stood what is Forbidden Valley's last hope.

Layout:

The Security and Survival Centre (S&S Centre) is open to all and home to all your needs for surviving the current situation we face.

Floor 1:

Starting at Ground Level, you'll find yourself at the top of the facility. This is where all main communications and outdoor security equipment is stored.

Using our advanced super computer, as well artificial intelligence guide EVE, you can access a plethora of resources and information regarding the state of the land, dangerous creatures and how to handle them, and visual on activities that the S&S Rescue Team may need to finish which brings us to the second half of the first floor.

The S&S Rescue Team are constantly needing to go out to find lost survivors and new hazards in the Valley. As such, the first floor contains all necessary gear for heading out to face the dangers of Nemesis' minions. This equipment is free to use for all civilians and it is highly advised that you take some of the equipment before heading out. Alongside all of that is the Training Grounds for practice and preperation. Do checks of your gear in a safe and secure zone, or head straight to our trials to put your skills to the test. However you choose to prepare, the Training Grounds will make sure you're set to go out and fight the monsters of Forbidden Valley.

Floor 2:

Going down a floor, you'll find the Sleeping Quarters, Relaxation Room, Medical Centre, and the Strategic Planning Hub. For those wishing to stay with us and join the S&S Rescute Team, you will find your stay between missions to mainly be spent here. We've gathered what we can to make a comforting space amongst the hells of the outside world. Each soldier is designated their own Sleeping Quarter that you can fill with your personal belongings and decorations to make yourself feel at home.

On top of that, we have the Relaxation Room, a hub for everyone to relax during our downtime, play games, chat and rest up. All food and supplies are stored here too, so you can pick from a well stocked selection of snacks and drinks to enjoy. Of course, we also have the Medical Centre, where we bring any injured survivors to treat and heal. Current residents may also enter the clinic at any point to be seen by one of our doctors who will help with any physical or mental concern you may be facing.

Finally for the middle floor, we have the Strategic Planning Hub - the centre of our last hopes for the future. Here we hold regularly meetings discussing plan of action for the future, where to go, and how to act. All members of the S&S will have the opportunity to join us in this space and chip in to our plans of action and add ideas to the document. This space will be constantly used until we are free, so if you wish to become a part of the group that helps set the Towers free, this is the place to be.

Floor 3:

On farthest down floor you'll find The Lab - our main area for experimenting and creation.

The Lab is split in two halfs. In the first half, you'll find the testing grounds for "Power Shards", genetic enhancements, and DNA analysis. This half utilises the power given to us by the Towers to analyse and find new methods to combat the Nemesi aliens, and hopefully one day Nemesis itself.

On the other half is all engineering work and testing, using the parts we can gather to craft new machinary, weapons, armour, and more to help boost our day to day life. Upon new upgrade discoveries too, S&S members can visit this half to get this applied to their own personal equipment.

Through each day both halves work together to discover how both can enhance the progression and discovery of each. Sometimes, technology will be enhanced through the powers of the Towers, and sometimes our analysis for DNA can be enhanced through our new technological discoveries.

Deeper Beyond:

Our power supply actually heads further down than those 3 floors, with all power coming from the thermoelectric generators we installed in caves closer to some of the lava pools that now exist within the Forbidden Valley. Every now and then, we do have teams go down to ensure they're all looked after and kept up to date to avoid power outages. However, with the location and source - our data predicts we should be able to last off of it longer than any of us here will naturally live!

Thank You

Residents, if you have made it this far, then I can safely say you are now fully informed on the information regarding the Survival & Security Centre.

Best of luck out there, we hope to see you soon in one piece.

- The S&S Team

#alton towers #trapped towers #alton towers au #hi guys actual justdaniel talking now this was a doozy of a post #fun fact this doesn't post place in the current time <3

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texas-writes · 2 years ago

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Gentle Giant

Warnings: piv, oral (f recieving), fingering, size difference

You shriek as your giant husband throws you onto your shared bed, launching himself after you. He catches you as you almost bounce off the mattress and into the floor, pulling you into the safety of his arms. A contented sigh falls from your lips as you snuggle deeper into his broad chest. Jonathan’s breath is warm as it feathers your hair to tickle the back of your neck. You let out a soft giggle and roll over to face him. Despite his calm and collected demeanor, his pupils are blown and his eyes are a deeper blue than usual. You know that he won’t initiate unless you’re totally oblivious to what he wants, so you give him a soft smile before slipping out of your night clothes and moving to straddle his wide waist. “Hm, I thought you’d never figure me out,” he hums, placing himself over you. “We’ve been married for a while now, perhaps I should stop being so shy about these things,” he ponders, leaning down to brush his lips against your neck. “But then again, I like it when you undress me like you do.” His voice drips with gentle teasing as you move your hands to unbutton his shirt and slip it off his broad shoulders. His whole torso is muscular from years of wrestling and Rugby. You push his pants down his hips and he repositions himself to remove them completely.

He lets out a low hum as he brushes his hand up your thigh and brings it to rest on your hip. “Johnathan it’s okay, I promise,” you giggle, guiding his hand to press against your arousal. “Hm, if you say so. Already so wet for me darling, just look at you,” he praises, circling the pad of his thumb around your clit. Johnathan wraps his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer and burying his nose behind your ear. “I love you so much,” he breathes, pressing his lips to your jaw. A soft whimper falls from your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck and urge him up to kiss you. He complies to your silent demand before slipping down the bed and resting his head on your thigh. You gasp as he wraps his arms under your knees and pulls you towards him, his face just inches from your pussy. He teases your entrance with his tongue before once again focusing his attention on your clit. You grip his hair and arch your back as he slips two fingers into you, maling you suck in a sharp breath. He works you through your first orgasam with ease, despite how inexperienced he acts when trying to initiate.

“You’re always so good for me darling,” he coos, crawling back up the bed to lay beside you. “Do you want a taste?” He extends his fingers towards you. You gingerly take them into your mouth, sucking them clean, earning yourself more praise from the giant man holding you. “Now, on to the main course hm,” he hums, moving to hover over you. You reach your hands between the two of you to line him up with your entrance, then using it to clutch at his hip as he slowly pushes himself inside. “J-Johnathan,” you breathe, clutching at his broad shoulders, searching for something to ground yourself with “You alright sweetheart?” You bite your bottom lip and nod, encouraging him to start moving. His pace is slow and rhythmic, pushing all the way in before pulling almost completely out and starting anew. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t well endowed. Everything about this man was perfect, why shouldn’t sex with him be too? Once you fully adjust to his size, something you still took time to do, even after four months of marriage, you wrap your legs around him and urge him to speed up. He leans back and holds your hips as he thrusts into you, admiring you. “Hm, look at how well you take me, darling,” he hums, pushing down on the bulge in your lower abdomen, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. He lets out a groan and pushes down again as your walls flutter around him. “Cum for me sweetheart, you’re being so good for me, now come on,” He encourages, reaching down to massage your clit again. You come undone in his hands and he follows not long after. He pulls out and moves to get a rag to clean you up with, but you pull him back down into the bed with you. “Jojo, I’m naked, if you get up I’ll get cold,” you laugh, hugging his arm. That's all the convincing it takes for him to lay back down and pull you into his warm chest.

#johnathan joestar #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #phantom blood #x reader #smut #fluff

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spacexfucker · 2 months ago

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I became a step mom and had a baby around basically the same time. I had a step mom and did not want to be like her and was trying to find ways to do my best to be dependable and someone my kids actually wanted to tell about their problems to.

Growing up my parents simultaneously did not care about me and sometimes violently over controlled what I could do, say, watch, read, listen to, etc. I did not want to do that to my kids.

So I joined a Facebook group that positioned itself as a safety guide for parents to use for their kids. But upon being let into the group I realized we were not together to share tips for conversations about safety and fostering trust and commiserating about having kids in the current tech age, but instead was a group of parents sharing various ways to spy on their children with cloning apps and password breakers and spotting dummy apps etc.

The whole group was just post after post of parents talking about punishments to hand out if their kid was found to have circumvented a control or how to fix the solve to the app control or about what apps are hardest to get around.

Kids will make mistakes. Kids will talk to bad people online. Kids will see/read/hear bad stuff online. Regardless of how well you think you're keeping them from doing so. Putting insane restraints on anything just makes it more dangerous. If your kid knows that they'll recieve punishment for doing something dangerous then they won't tell you when they're in danger.

I left that group.

You have to have honest conversations with your kids about danger. You have to take your time to explain the kind of things and people they could run into online. You have to explain to them how grooming works and what they should look out for. You should be telling them that anything that scares them/worries them/makes them uncomfortable is something they can talk to you about without being punished.

You cannot keep a kid from getting an old used phone from a friend. You cannot keep a kid from using another kids phone. They can go to libraries, places with wifi like fast food, etc.

People that want to do harm to kids know exactly the type of kid to go after. And it's kids that feel unheard, feel dismissed or talked down to, kids that are controlled will want a sympathetic ear. And another adult will use that as an in with them. Positioning themselves as someone to trust with gifts and assurances that your kid is smart and capable.

Our desire for validation and to be heard is what makes us vulnerable. And groomers know how to exploit that.

You can't take the easy way out when you raise your kids. Slapping Spyware on their devices and putting up cameras in your house and tracking their locations to "catch" them is lazy parenting. You're teaching them that love looks like control. And that someone else having control over you is fine if it's because it's "in their best interest".

My oldest wanted life 360 to connect us because it makes them feel safe to know where me and their dad are. Especially when they're out at school or clubs or friends' houses. But they know that I'm not using it to keep tabs on them to tell them where they can't be. And that if they want, we can turn it off whenever.

Our approach with our kids has made them more likely to come to us with problems and concerns. They want us to know where they are so that if something does go wrong, we know exactly where to get them.

something i don't see talked about enough is the fact that parents having constant surveillance over "their" children is normalized by our society

like seriously, parents will go install the Super Panopticon Kid Safe Parental Controls 2000 that sends their kid's internet history, recordings of their calls and texts, every file on their phone, and exact geolocation to the parents.

and if you ever point out that this is more likely to endanger kids than protect them, people suddenly bombard you with a thousand comments about how children are too stupid or immature to have the most basic privacy in their life.

#sorry for the long addition #i hope its okie dokie but if you want i can remove it

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isaacathom · 5 months ago

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had a dnd session and a subplot is set to resolve and im gonna go a little feral so :) hellow

Naielle Odelia is a warlock under the forgotten star Alcor. She formed this pact 20 years ago in pursuit of a specific knowledge, and was not entirely aware of what was being asked of her in return when she did this. Due to her pact, she was forced into exile from her home country (The Sylvian Empire), and has ultimately ended up here, on the quest of the campaign, opposing a mindflayer incursion in the Jade Sea. This was always Alcor's plan.

A few months ago in-game, Naielle took leave to return "home" to Yerovera to visit her fiancee, who had managed to make inter-planar contact. When she arrived, they learned that Naielle's younger sister, Mariela, was using the remains of her patron-granted research to potentially cause havoc. To prevent disaster, Naielle and the ship captured Mariela, and decided the best way to remove her from the equation was for Naielle to take her back with her to the Jade Sea.

When they arrived, Alcor looked at Mariela and assumed she had been brought there to serve as an acolyte of Naielle's. Another member of a long dead and now maybe resurgent cult of a star. He forced a warlock pact on her, and bound her to Naielle's will, such that attempting to harm Naielle would cause psychic backlash, and that she was bound to follow Naielle's orders and aid her in her crusade against mindflayers.

Naielle, having had 0 intention of this, opposes it categorically. Mariela didn't believe her.

They've been at loggerheads for a while. Naielle and her have never gotten on exceptionally, but realising what she's accidentally done to her sister caused Naielle to flip, to make it damn near her primary objective to free her sister of the pact. There's little the two could do for a long time.

Then, during a brief sojourn in the Plane of Fire, Mariela found a book about the Cult of Alcor, and the history therein.

Alcor once had a cult in the feywild, and when that plane began to tear itself apart structurally, disappearing into pockets of nothingness, he channeled his power through his chief priest, Aerenis, to guide the elves to safety - to Yerovera. In so doing, Aerenis ceased to be mortal, and ascended to serve as an aspect of Alcor.

This was Alcor's goal for Naielle. That she would embody his power against the mindflayer threat.

Naielle fears it. She managed to speak to Aerenis directly for his advice, to be assured his regret that it was coming to this. She was given options;

To forsake her pact entirely, practically erasing 20 years of acquired knowledge. Extremely bad idea

To transfer her 'priesthood' to her sister, sentencing her to that ascendant fate. Undesirable

To, with Mariela's help, declare their pact resolved in the moment of slaying a significant enemy - an Aboleth, more than likely - removing both of them from the pact. Dangerous

To Ascend. Deeply Undesirable.

Naielle relayed these to Mariela, who used the fact she was a political prisoner to have coded messages sent home. Naielle, and then-Commodore Vandervest did not know what the messages contained, but Naielle insisted they be untampered with (and Mariela, apparently, convinced Vandervest to honour this).

Vandervest recieved word on the matter, but due to his failing health, decided to leave much of the matter to be dealt with by his successor, only informing Naielle of a political decision - that, due to the lengths the Sylvian Empire had gone to secure Mariela's correspondance, it had been ordered by his superiors that Mariela either be completely locked down for future use as a bargaining chip, or be killed.

He had recieved an answer from the Empire on the matter.

His successor, Acting-Commodore Marius Aubert, once he became aware of the matter, summoned Naielle to his office and said that the code contained suggested an affirmative answer, and that he wished to talk to Mariela about what question she had asked. Naielle, not being entirely confident, agreed to this.

When they got to her, she says she would rather not explain it with Naielle present. Naielle asks, just one question - does it involve me, or her? both. Naielle goes back above deck.

Mariela explains to Marius privately. In the Empire, warlock pacts are forbidden. She had requested special dispensation to seek that power. When pressed further, she explains that Naielle had 'often expressed that she finds her pact burdensome', and that she would relieve it.

Marius hands her the response from her government, and states that while her people may give her permission, he can't allow harm to come to Naielle.

She requests to talk to her, and Marius goes above deck to fetch her, though takes the short opportunity to pre-warn her of what Mariela appears to be asking for. Naielle descends below deck already on the verge of tears.

They talk. Mariela calls her Kiir, her childhood name. They gave her permission to take the pact. Naielle can only ask her if she's sure, over and over again. Are you sure? Do you understand what you ask for? Mariela is thrown by the question, but says yes - she can do better than Naielle did. Naielle believes her! It wouldn't be hard! But does she know what she asks? Does she understand how easy it would be fuck up the same as she did?

Which is when Mariela reveals part of what has driven the strife between them.

She can't stay in Naielle's shadow.

Their mother is a strict woman, at all times aware that her position is fragile and her family is in danger, that the imperial regime could at any moment deem them obstacles and wipe them out. She lived through the empire's bloody rise, and watched her father's execution.

She criticises. She measures her children, against the world and each other, and finds them wanting.

Naielle didn't notice it, so much. She had the wholehearted support of her father, shared in his field of expertise and his passion for history. If mother found her wanting, her father didn't.

Mariela noticed. Mariela noticed as she was compared unfavourably to her academic sister, a more talented student with a natural gift. Her mother still compares to two, as Naielle's exile looms over the family like a ghost.

Naielle didn't know. These aren't the sort of things she heard. She knew her twin brother had found their separation difficult, that Mariela had remained 'cruel' on the topic of Naielle, had sometimes caused arguments with their brother on the topic. Naielle didn't know that she wasn't just a cudgel by a sister proud and patriotic, but a mother critical of all the efforts her children make.

If Mariela could take Naielle's failings - the research she'd been exiled over - and turn it into an asset for the empire, she would escape that legacy. She'd finally succeed over her sister. She could turn failure into success.

They hug. They laugh. How the fuck did they get here, crying below the decks of a pirate ship?

Mariela had wanted to kill her. To get revenge for the pact Naielle had foisted upon her (regardless of her lack of intent), to remove her shadow from the Odelia's halls. She had wanted to seize their patrons power and use it to imperial ends, and succeed where Naielle failed.

Did she understand what that power meant? And this time she listens when Naielle explains that. That to ascend is not just to be handed power, freely wielded and beyond recourse. It is to leave the material plane and exist as part of the divine, alone and separate.

Mariela absorbs it for a moment. How did Naielle bear the weight of that over her? Ha! Ha... That is all Naielle can say.

Mariela doesn't want Naielle to go.

There remains an option that lets them both have a chance to go home! They kill an Aboleth together, they declare it done. Option 3. And then Naielle will take her home, and she can spin any story she likes that would satisfy the Empire, say she overpowered Naielle and stole her research, that she was bound and coerced and bided her time until Naielle dropped her guard. Naielle will take her home, and she'll return to the sea, and then, in the future -

Naielle will come home, in a disguise? Naielle laughs at that. Perhaps not. But they can surely find a way to stay in contact, perhaps through Naielle's wife, or some other means, until Naielle is safe to come home.

Mariela agrees with the plan. She'll pack her things, and return with Naielle and Marius to the front they rapidly approach, and help Naielle fight the Aboleth. And she'll go home.

And Naielle's chances of coming back from the final fight change. Her death is no longer a guarantee, whether at the hands of dark forces or wrapped in the light of the celestial. Maybe she has doomed the fleet by forsaking the divine, made it more likely none of them come home. But Naielle considers herself a consummate coward, and selfish, and she can't pick anything else.

Doesn't she have orders to hold or kill Mariela? Well, didn't Mariela have orders to take celestial power and kill Naielle? Neither sister will follow what the highers say. Maybe they'll make a show of it on both ends, and live content in their treasons, and dodge the consequences and live to know they spared the other, in a manner of speaking.

#Naielle Odelia #i cant like. articulate the vibes well. but fully there were a few points when i was crying #the gm told me later that the convo very nearly went a completely different way if mariela hadn't succeeded an insight check #to realise that naielle going 'are you sure?' wasnt condescension or judgement but a bone-deep fear for her #an entirely earnest and sincere worry for mariela's wellbeing. it gave her pause. the pause it was naielle needed #naielle didn't go in intending to convince her not to. she went in wanting to make sure mariela knew what she asked #what alcor would ask of her and what the outcome would be. if that changed her mind then thank god. if it hadnt...#naielle would've let her do it. would have talked to Marius about the timing of the ritual. gone through with it #because she wouldnt have been able to deny Mariela a choice on the matter. She would have respected Mariela's choice #and just lived to regret letting her do it. if Mariela had become the priest Naielle would never have lived it down #she would spend the rest of her short or prolonged life knowing she let her sister die. whack #but now they have something like an understanding. they know what stands between them. what lies ahead #and they have their path to freedom.#ignore the dragon king of the west at naielles hip. thats a different problem that naielle will consider separately #she might need to apologise about the dragon thing later haha

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cxnarius · 4 years ago

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protective action prompts // accepting

@veritcs said: [ STEER ] jono @ haruki

Jobs like this always made Haruki irritated. Clearing out some group of two-bit mobsters? Didn’t they have better things to be doing with their time? He was sure the other hunting dogs felt the same way... Though, he wouldn’t be voicing this opinion any time soon.

He registers the sound of feet running towards him, looking up just in time to see Jono as the other shoved him roughly, sending him sliding several meters back.

“Hey! What’s the big i-”

The large explosion cuts him off mid-sentance, the area he had just been standing in reduced to a crater in the ground. Gruffly, Haruki swatted a piece of debris away from him as he stood back up, shaking the dust off himself.

“Well, don’t expect me to thank you.”

#✦ || ‘I am who I’m meant to be.’ ( ic; haruki )#veritcs #✦ || ‘why don’t we rewrite the stars?’ ( asks )#Guides the reciever to safety #shoving him out of the way is the same thing #right?

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ashortdropandasuddenstop · 4 months ago

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John couldn’t help the snicker that left him. James was always so keen to help. To protect and provide. And he was good at it, very good. John wouldn’t let anyone see him like this otherwise. At his most vulnerable, at his weakest. Literally. “Mm. My hero.” He grinned, walking with the aid of his lover.

He didn’t argue, didn’t push James away. It was evident that the vamp wanted to help, just as much as it was evident that John needed it. The shower would hopefully help his aching muscles, not that he regretted anything about the previous night. If anything, he embraced the aches, reminders of his lover’s claim.

Blue eyes watched as James started the shower and turned it to the right temperature. John didn’t have any doubt the water would be perfect. Everything that man did always was. He allowed James to guide him into the shower, a long content sigh leaving the blonde as the water fell on him. He closed his eyes and stood with his head tipped back, enjoying the warmth against his face and body, the pressure hitting those aches. “Mmm…it’s nice. Perfect.” He commented.

As James spoke, head tipped forward. John’s gaze was focused on his lover as he gave a small smile. “I know we will. I know.” He agreed in a murmur. It still felt so odd, like he was an alien in his own body. Yet James hadn’t looked at him nor treated him any differently, and that was a fact John was clinging to. That he was still here, still loved him. Still wanted to be with him, do things for him. Help and support him. He couldn’t do this alone.

John nodded at the gentle command and let out deep breaths. The moment those hands were in his hair, he hummed softly and felt those woes slowly ebb away. Bit by bit, he relaxed under James’ touch, eyes closed as hands reached out to hold his lover’s sides. Just needing that contact, to feel him there while he couldn’t see him. “Mms’nice…” He mumbled, pure putty in the vampire’s hands. The mixture of affection together with the warmth from the shower and the calming pitter patter of the spray, it was all one big safety net. A sanctuary for John.

Ears perked as that soothing voice echoed, hands slowly gliding up and down his lover’s sides. “You always take care of me. You’re the only one who ever has, and meant it. I’d be lost without you, James.” John’s tone was warm, vulnerable. Open. But relaxed. He wasn’t going to argue nor fight on this. Not when it helped keep those bad thoughts away. James wanted to be there for him. He wanted to take care of him. That meant he would stay, that he wouldn’t leave him. That’s what he kept telling himself while soaking up the affection and comforting words.

James was more than eager to be that stabilizing rock for the blonde to cling to. To be what got him through this tough and trying time. He could not imagine losing powers and abilities that were second nature , like an extension of himself, gone. Akin to losing a limb, feeling sluggish and handicapped. James wanted to make this as easy as he could for him. It was working too, he could feel the tension and apprehension ( as well as the pain ) ebb and ease. He could feel his gorgeous hybrid fledgling relaxing against him. Even if said in jest, he prided himself on his heroics. " Well, I do try" he mused.

It never onced even occured to him that .. now that Homelander was powerless… that he should leave him for someone better and more powerful. Because, while he did enjoy those powers and strength the man had at his peak, it was John he ultimately had fallen for. That he loved, was bonded with. He would go to the moon and back just to capture some stardust for him, so having no powers was but a minor setback-- one he planned on rectifying as soon as possible.

Just.. after his lover felt a little better first.

He wore a soft smile when his lover murmured out that the head massage felt nice. James definitely enjoyed giving pleasure to his beloved supe perhaps even more than recieving. But it did his unbeating heart good. " mm good , just relax.. I won't let you fall or stumble. I love you, John. " He murmurs deeply in that rumble of his against the shell of an ear. Suckling upon the lobe a moment.

" And I always will. " he reassured. Reinforcing that love, that hope that someone actually cared for him, and was on his side. James knew what it was like to life so long with no one. When you were looked at as a weapon or tool and not a person worthy of love. It allowed James to help heal John and change him into a better man. If he had not been introduced who knows how unhinged the man would be now?

He began to hum, wrapping his arms around his lover in the spray, swaying with him in the water while rinsing out the shampoo from the blonde hair. " I will always… be here.. for you to count on. When you are at your best, or your worst.. "

SevenCon

#v: vampire #norrilander #SevenCon #hom3land3r #nsfwish.

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the-little-ewok · 3 years ago

Text

Balance

Steven Grant X F!Reader / Marc Spector X F!Reader

Rating: Explicit / 18+ only

Wordcount: 8.8k (ish)

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, PIV, unprotected sex, Oral (F recieving), fingering, language, mentions of food

Summary: A day in the life of Steven, Marc, and their girlfriend…

This is technically a loose sequel to Tilt taking place a long time down the road in their relationship. However it can be read entirely independently for what it is… a self indulgent smut fic ;)

A/N- Steven and Marc are very much aware of each other at this point. And it deviates slightly from the show with regard to the mention of Ammit.

I am not a system, nor do I know anyone who is a system. This fic is purely based on my research, the show and the comics. No offence is intended.

Gif by Salome-C / Beta by mypedrom

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Balance. That's what they bring to your life, and to each other.

It's Steven who makes you breakfast in the morning, but Marc walks you home from work at night.

Steven watches Disney movies with you. He sings along, until he realises you're watching him, not the movie. Marc makes you watch ghost movies. He lets you hide your face in his chest. He laughs when he realises you hardly see any of the film.

It's always Steven who bundles you into a hug after a bad day, when you're stressed and upset. Marc is the one who helps you make a plan for how to resolve your problems.

Steven continues to teach you hieroglyphs, he's patient and sweet. He gets excited when you get things right, he's gentle when you don't. He always leaves messages on post-it notes for you to translate, usually sweet words of love or terrible puns.

Marc, much to Steven and Khonshu's (so Marc tells you) disapproval, teaches you how to throw crescent darts.

"That's our girl!" He yells when you hit the targets. When you don't, he just takes the opportunity to press himself against you, to wrap his fingers over yours to guide your hand, while he whispers in your ear where you went wrong. You're still not very good at it, but that might be on purpose.

The apartment is full of Steven's Egyptology books, but next to them now are books on other countries. Far flung places you want to visit. Steven buys them for you because he's scared of flying. It allows you to travel from the safety of his room on a flying carpet made of paper.

That is until Marc decides it's boring to live through books and buys you a scratch map. He allows you to pick each destination you want to go to and scratch it off on your return. Steven always buys you a book on the history of your next holiday, and Marc handles the flying.

They balance everything out. They make your world whole and bright. You can only hope you do the same for them.

But getting to that place hadn't been an easy journey, not even close That day in the museum you had fooled yourself that knowing Marc's existence, you could figure it all out in a heartbeat. You'd find a way to work around it. If only it had been that simple. If only it had been that easy.

No, it hasn't been easy. It had been complicated, and sometimes downright terrifying. But it was worth it. Every moment of upset, every tear, every long sleepless night. It was all worth it to get here, to build your family.

First with Steven — slowly tripping and stumbling your way in love until you learned to walk, to fully trust each other, to understand each other.

The early days had been dizzyingly warm — sweet dates filled with laughter and romance, smiles and shyness. But as time went on you realised the complexity of Steven, of Marc, and there had been days filled with fear, arguments and tears from both of you. Still, you stuck it out, never willing to part from each other just because of the difficulties. You stuck to the promise you made to yourself in the museum that day. Whatever challenges came, however hard they were to figure out, he still smiled at you the same way, and you fought through because of that.

Your relationship with Marc had come much later, and with a lot more complications. You still remember the way he'd looked at you, after you'd yelled at him to stop interfering in a relationship he wasn't involved in. You hadn't meant it to come out that way, still new to your learning of them both, still learning that Marc was trying to protect not just Steven, but also you. Still learning he didn't want any of you to get hurt. All the anger had dropped out of his shoulders in an instant. He'd stepped back, allowed Steven to blink at you, confused when you suddenly burst into tears. It hadn't been your proudest moment, and after that Marc had disappeared for days, refusing to speak to either you, or Steven. Those days had been the hardest. Those days you didn't think your heart could survive it.

Marc confessed it eventually to Steven first, some weeks after that day, that he had fallen in love with you, that seeing you and Steven together was hard. He wanted the best for both of you, but it was costing him his own happiness, and so he tried to remove himself from the situation entirely, but it didn't work, it couldn't work, Steven needed him and that was more important.

That had opened a whole new can of worms that had almost unbalanced everything you and Steven had worked towards. You loved Steven, but you already knew you had started to fall for Marc. Perhaps you'd been falling for a long time before you realised it, biting down your feelings because it couldn't be possible to love them both, and making Steven choose was never an opinion. He needed Marc. You were an option, a choice he made, he didn't need you in the same way.

In the end it had been Steven who brought you both together, who explained that it was ok, if you wanted them both, if you wanted to try, that they wanted you to try. So you did. And somehow the three of you together just worked. You balanced, even if Khonshu often tried to tip the scales.

The soft sound of your name draws you out of your thoughts, back to Steven kissing your temple softly. Bringing you back to the dim loft room they've made their home in, bathed in early morning light. Back to the weight of the Egyptology book on your lap, Steven’s naked chest pressed against your back as you lean against him in bed, dressed in only his shirt.

"Hmm?" you hum softly, blinking yourself out of your daze, the noise of the street vendors setting up outside drifting through the open window, disturbing the quiet surrounding you.

"I asked if I could turn the page yet?" He repeats softly.

You look down at the book, worn in the corners, its spine broken from so much use. It was one of your favourites to read together, snuggled up in bed, sitting between Steven’s legs, waiting for each other to read pages before you turn to the next one. You suspect he already has the pages committed to memory, and he only reads it because you enjoy it so much.

"Sorry, I got distracted," you mumble, your fingers tracing the gold leaf picture of scales on the page, the feather weighed against the heart.

Steven shifts slightly behind you, running his hands slowly down your arms as he drops his head to press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"Is everything ok?"

Twisting around to look at him, you brush his unruly curls back from his forehead and kiss him sweetly, feeling guilty for suddenly being so lost in your own thoughts when you should have been spending time together. He blushes, a sight that never fails to warm your heart. No matter how long you've been together, he always seems enamoured by you, as though you were the most precious artifact he's ever seen.

"Everything's perfect," you assure him, sweeping your thumb over his cheek as you cradle his face in your hand for a moment. Turning back to the book, you run your fingers over the pictures, as though you could bring them to life with a touch.

"What do you think my scales would do?" You ask curiously, wanting to set Steven off on one of his excited speeches about history.

Steven hums in thought, taking both your hands in his, weighing them as if they carried the weight of your heart, before he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not good. Apparently you might have murdered a fish?"

There isn't a shred of malice in his tone, more one of an underlying smile he's trying to badly suppress, but you still grimace. The fish in question, Gus II, had inexplicably died while Marc had been away, and you had been put in charge of looking after it. Just hours before he'd returned, you found Gus floating belly up in the tank. Steven had softly told you it wasn't anything you did, and it was obviously just Gus's time to go.

Marc on the other hand had spent a week making fish jokes, insisting you killed the fish because Steven loved it more. Except for all his teasing, the week after two fish had appeared in the tank overnight, a post-it stuck to the front with a message in Marc's scrawled handwriting.

Got two so you have one each. Try to keep them alive this time x

"I thought we banned that topic?" You grumble quietly.

"I'm sorry," he apologises sincerely, "I won't bring it up again."

You give his arms a reassuring squeeze, to let him know there's no need for apologies, to let him know you're not the least bit upset. You feel him relax again, leaning his head against your shoulder in quiet contentment.

"What happens now, then? If I can't pass through to the field?" You ask, wanting to cheer him up a bit after his joke had fallen flat.

Steven doesn't launch into an animated explanation like he usually does, instead he sighs, taking off his glasses, closing the book and putting both safely on the night stand, alongside the plushy hippo he'd bought for your first proper date. For a moment you're worried you might have upset him, but then he cuddles you closer, his soft curls tickling your cheek, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers.

"You sure you want to know?"

"Yes," you breathe, fully leaning back into him.

"You have been judged unworthy and Ammit gets to eat your heart now," he growls in your ear, his arms tightening around your waist, but not quick enough to stop you slipping out of them and attempting to scramble away down the bed, catching the playful tone in his voice.

You make it halfway down the bed on your hands and knees before his hand wraps around your ankle, giving you a gentle tug, making your arms give way and ending your escape.

"Mercy," you giggle as he flips you over and crawls over you, growling through his giggles, his curls haphazardly falling into his bright eyes. You're sure you fall in love with him all over again then and there. It's impossible not to. He beams down at you, giving you a smile that makes your heart burst.

"No mercy. You are unworthy," he giggles.

You're surprised, and not for the first time, at his strength combined with such gentleness, as he pins you down against the bed, pushing the shirt up so his teeth can nip playfully at your ribs, working his way towards your heart. Giggling, you squirm under his ticklish bites, his teeth barely caressing your flesh before they are gone. Steven would never leave marks on you, not even tiny bites. Marc on the other hand…

Stopping at your heart, Steven grins up at you through thick eyelashes.

"Any last words, sinner?"

"Yes," you giggle, "you can't eat my heart because I don't have it. Some time ago I remember giving it to a gift shop worker. What was his name…Stevie?" You pause, humming I thought as he waits, "Steven, that was it. Steven -"

"With a V," you both giggle out at the same time.

"Guess I can't eat it then can I?" He sighs dramatically. "Probably be a bit sad if you died anyway,"

"You did tell me you'd cry an entire river if I did," you grin, pulling him up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I don't think I said that, did I?" He laughs against your mouth, giving your ribs a soft jab for good measure at your teasing.

"Maybe not exactly those words. It's close enough, though," you giggle, still able to remember exactly what he said.

"When he died, she cried so much that her tears made the Nile." Steven had sighed affectionately, looking over the hieroglyphs depicting the love story of Iris and Osiris. The museum was frequently in your date cards, and no matter how many things Steven told you stories about, he always seemed to find something new to tell you.

"That seems sad," you'd answered with a frown.

"I guess it's sort of romantic. You miss someone you love so much you like cry a literal river for them," Steven had answered, still addressing the stone pictures, purposely not looking at you. "Guess I'm lucky to have that sort of feeling too. Not the crying part, I mean, you're not dead, are you? So ignore that bit."

"But the love story?" You'd asked softly, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah, that bit," he'd answered quietly, leaning into you, a comforting weight against your side. "Do you think that's what that guy was singing about?"

It took you a minute to catch up with his thought process before you snort with laughter.

"Justin Timberlake? I mean, maybe. I guess he could be real into ancient Egypt as well? Apparently, all the hottest boys are." You had grinned at the way his cheeks had flushed red, how he'd stuttered over his words, how his hand had gripped yours a little tighter.

You smile, running your hands through his continually messy curls as you press another kiss to his lips.

"What time do you have to leave for work, love?" He asks, dipping his head to run his nose up the column of your neck, his hand warmly slipping up your thigh.

Twisting, you tilt your head back to look at the clock, your breath catching as he starts to place kisses against your collarbone.

"About an hour,"

"Can I ask you to stay in bed a little longer?" He lifts his head to look at you again, soft curls falling onto his forehead, a sweet smile on his lips. Even if he wasn't looking at you with complete adoration, even if his thumb wasn't slipping down to your inner thigh, saying no would have taken a far stronger person than you are.

Your answer is to wrap your hand around the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours.

He smiles against your mouth before he kisses you back, taking his time to slowly kiss your top and bottom lip before he teases them open, sliding his tongue against yours. As he deepens the kiss, you feel his hand sliding further on your thigh, warm calloused fingers exploring your flesh.

When you first slept together, Steven hadn't been the most experienced with girls. He wasn't entirely inexperienced, but you got the impression they hadn't been the best of times. So the first time you had taken things slowly, guided his hands, told him what you did and didn't like, until he knew your body better than you, until he knew exactly how to make you tremble.

And once he did, boy did he use that knowledge to his advantage. You haven't ever had anyone as attentive as Steven, as dedicated to making sure you're a shaking mess every time. But not just that, he treated you with such gentleness, such love, such intimacy, that nothing came close to the intensity of your climaxes with him.

You moan into his mouth as his fingers brush against your burning core, feeling the wetness already gathered there. You hear the catch in his breath, watch the flicker of his eyes across your face, the expression he always tries to hide, the one that tells you even now he's surprised that you want him.

His fingers ghost over your folds in feather light touches as he presses soft kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, before moving to the top of your breasts. As he peppers your flesh with soft kisses, your own hands unbutton the shirt you'd been wearing, allowing it to fall open and expose the full view of you to him.

Steven lets out a soft groan of appreciation at the removal of the material.

"Bloody perfect you are," he breathes, working kisses across your exposed breasts before he takes one peaked nipple into his mouth, dragging his tongue over the nub at the exact same time he runs two fingers over your clit, making you gasp and arch in pleasure. He pays the exact same attention to the other breast, his other hand still exploring your more intimate parts.

His mouth moves to press a trail of kisses down your ribs, across your belly and further to where his fingers are still pressed against your clit.

"Perfect," he breathes again, before his fingers are gone, and he replaces them with his mouth. He drags the flat of his tongue across your clit, drawing a soft curse from you. He repeats the action, again and again, until you're trembling and raising your hips to his mouth. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you open for him as his tongue curls around your clit before dipping inside you, humming at the taste of you.

Your fingers tangle in his dark curls as he moans against your pussy. Glancing down at him, framed between your thighs, your breath catches at the sight. His eyes are squeezed shut, a look of pure enjoyment on his face, as though he loves this just as much as you.

"Oh, fffuu-" your hiss of a curse fades off into a trembling whine as he presses two fingers into you, stretching you and curling against that spot inside you, while his tongue moves back to diligently work against your sensitive bud. Your climax surges up surprisingly fast. Faster than you can stutter out a warning to him.

"St-Steven…i-i…im-"

His fingers tighten against your thigh as he seals his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking hard, his fingers thrusting into you as your hips buck into his mouth. Your eyes roll back, walls clamping down on his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you.

He coaxes you gently through every wave, tearing soft whines and whimpers from you, slowly bringing you down from your high. As your breathing evens, your body still jolting at the sensitive drag of his tongue, he moves his mouth down, removing his fingers with a sinfully wet noise, that with anyone else would make you embarrassed. But any thoughts of even thinking about being embarrassed, are soon forgotten as he presses his tongue inside you, lapping up the evidence of your climax with a soft groan of satisfaction.

His nose nudges against your clit and your whole body shudders at the contact, your nerves still on fire. You could swear you feel him smile against you for a second, before his tongue is swipping a hot stripe through your folds, slowly circling your clit and back down, tearing a broken moan from you, scattering all coherent thoughts.

His hands gently pin your hips down against the bed as he places soft kitten licks to your sensitive clit. Your heels dig into the mattress as your fingers tangle in the sheets, equally desperate to squirm away from the pleasure as you are to lift yourself into it.

"If you keep…I'll…again…" you whimper, unable to complete a full sentence when your senses are overwhelmed by the electric bolts of pleasure firing through you.

He moans against you, a deep, broken sound that sends vibrations through your core and shoves you straight over the edge.

Your climax shudders through you with a whimper, your pussy clenching around nothing as you cum hard enough to strain your abdomen muscles, lifting your head before you slam it back down on the pillow.

"Fuck, Steven!"

He doesn't let up, his tongue diligently lapping up your second climax, making you shudder with oversensitivity. It takes you pushing his head away to stop him, the drag of his tongue becoming too much against your sensitive flesh.

He lifts his eyes to yours, dark and lust filled, but still with a flicker of worry in them. Before he can speak, you give him a reassuring smile, your chest still heaving while you come down.

"Just need a minute," you pant softly in answer to his unasked question.

"Yeah, 'course, sorry," he smiles, turning his head to place soft kisses against your thigh, allowing you to catch your breath. He slowly works his way up your body, pressing soft kisses against your hip, your belly, up between your breasts before he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

He settles himself between your thighs, leaning his forehead against yours, seemingly content to ignore his throbbing erection pressed against your stomach, content just to have his skin pressed against yours.

There's never any rush with Steven, no matter how desperate his own needs are. He lives for the intimacy of this — the press of your skin against his, the quietness where the world fades away to nothing, where there's nothing but the two of you.

He captures your lips in another kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue, before he pulls back just slightly to whisper against your mouth, his eyes holding yours.

"I do love you, you know?"

You frame his face with your hands, "I know. And I do love you too, Steven Grant," you kiss him softly. "Now, are you going to make love to me or -"

He cuts off your words with a passionate kiss, swallowing your moan of pleasure as he presses his cock inside you, stretching your walls to accommodate him. He sinks in slowly, inch by inch, his mouth working against yours until he finally has to pull away to let out his own groan of pleasure as he fully seats himself inside your wet heat.

He pauses for a moment, allowing you to enjoy the fullness, pressing his body to yours, matching your breathing as you both adjust. Leaning his forehead against yours, he withdraws his hips slowly, barely leaving you before he thrusts his hips forward into you again.

Each thrust is long, slow and drawn out, always hitting deep inside you, stealing the breath from your lungs. It's delicious, passionate, intimate torture. It brings you to the edge and holds you there trembling, your toes curling, your hands grasping at his back, pulling him hard against you. You never want it to end.

His lips press against every part of skin he can reach — your mouth, your neck, your shoulders, peppering soft kisses and bites across your breasts as his hips roll against you over and over, in no rush to push you over the precipice into oblivion.

"Steven." It's half a whimper, half a plea as your body tenses and flexes with each push of his hips against yours.

His name in your mouth is what seems to snap his resolve at dragging this out, and he shuffles his knees up, changing the angle of his thrusts just slightly so that his cock brushes against that blissful spot inside you that makes you see stars, pressing himself closer to you so his pelvis rubs against your clit with each roll of his hips.

Taking your hand, he pins it high above your head, lacing your fingers together as he picks up the pace, his hips rolling against yours in quick, smooth thrusts that make you gasp.

"Oh fuck. Oh, Steven!" You whimper, lifting your hips to meet his, drawing a broken moan from his mouth.

"I need you to—need you to…f-first…please. So close," he begs sweetly in your ear as you gasp and shake beneath him, every touch on the verge of being too much. His own thrusts are erratic, out of time, and he trembles beneath your fingers that explore his skin. His own end is in sight, but yours is racing up faster than you can stop it, whether you're ready for it or not.

You whisper his name in a broken mantra, arching your back, your toes curling as a third climax overtakes you. Steven lets out a moan close to a howl as your walls clamp down around him. He captures your lips in a messy kiss as his hips stutter against yours, spilling himself deep inside you.

"So good for me, so good for me. Sweet darling, love you. So good, so good," he slurs, half drunk on pleasure, messy curls hanging over his forehead as he watches you through half lidded eyes, allowing his hips to roll to a slow stop, shuddering and trembling.

You want to answer, you want to tell him how good he is to you, how much you love him, to say anything, do anything, but your body is a boneless mess, entirely fucked out.

He stays with you in that moment, his hand clasped tightly in yours, the room filled only by the sound of your laboured breathing, in no rush to move, to separate. It's a long time before either of you decide to break the moment.

Leaning down, he kisses you sweetly, over and over until you come down from your high, until you're able to smile weakly at him, just about recovered. Only then does he pull out if you with a wet noise, collapsing on the bed next to you.

"Amazing," he grins, making you giggle as you roll onto your side to look at him. "I mean you. I mean, you are…I mean, you are amazing."

"Speak for yourself," you giggle, and he grins.

You can't help the grimace that takes over your smile as you move your legs, feeling the slick mess between them. Steven must notice the scrunch of your nose, and he lets out a soft, almost embarrassed laugh.

"Sorry," he apologises gently.

You blink at him in confusion for a moment before you shake your head, putting your hand over your face.

"You're the only person who would apologise for making a girl cum that hard,"

"Um, sorry for saying sorry?" He grins as you laugh, wrapping his arm over your waist, pulling your body against his. Smiling, you remove your hand to look him over, his skin still glistening with sweat, his curls damp and messy from your fingers, the absolute sweetest starry eyed grin on his face. You stroke his cheek gently with an affectionate sigh.

"Don't ever change, Steven."

"Don't intend to. Well, at least not right this minute," he brings your hand up to press a soft kiss to your knuckles before he pulls you into his arms, cuddling you tightly.

Not for the first time you're late for work, giving in to his request for one more minute, for too many minutes.

It's pouring and dark by the time you step outside, the rain instantly soaking through to your skin. Grumbling out curses, and perfectly picturing Marc's smug expression when he saw the rain, after he explicitly told you to take a jacket — an instruction you had entirely ignored — you run down the steps of the museum. Yelling a quick goodbye to the security guards, you slip out of the gate into the street.

It only takes you a second to see him. He's not easy to miss, bathed in moonlight, casually leaning against the corner of a café, a black umbrella over his head. His normally messy curls are slicked back, jacket zipped up against the cold, his other hand holding your jacket, watching you with the exact expression you expected.

Your feet splash against the wet floor as you run over to him, heels screaming in pain after a long day on your feet, but equally desperate to be somewhere dry.

"You're wet," he comments in greeting, handing you your jacket before reaching up to playfully tug a strand of wet hair, "And not in a way I like."

"Marc!" You admonish him, slapping his arm as he laughs, moving the umbrella over your head to shield you from the pounding rain as you slip the jacket on. You're already wet, but it's at least somewhat warmer. When you're done, he loops an arm around your waist to hug you before he places a soft kiss to your lips.

The taste of rain on your lips makes you smile, the memory of your first kiss still bright in your memory.

"I told you! I told you it would rain," Marc had laughed, your hand clasped tightly in his as you ran through the London streets towards your apartment. You'd been dating for a couple of weeks, still trying to figure out how it would work with both Steven and Marc. You'd agreed to take things very slowly, not to jump into anything too much, even though you were leaps and bounds ahead in your relationship with Steven. This needed to be handled with care, slowly and cautiously.

Thankfully the crazy golf he'd taken you too had been indoors, but the moment you'd walked out, the downpour had started, and with it, Marc's insistence he was always right.

"No, you said it might rain!" You giggled, dodging puddles as you try to keep up with him. You clearly remembered how you had mistimed a jump that had intended to get you over a large puddle, entirely miscalculating and landing straight in the middle of it, sending a wave of dirty water over your legs, and Marc's.

"Really?" He'd laughed, stopping to look at you, ankle deep in water. "You really had to do that?"

"Well it wasn't intentional," you'd grimaced, stepping out of the puddle, your shoes full of water, squelching with each step.

Marc had shaken his head at you, his normally slicked back curls making a break for freedom and sending water droplets flying, before he'd tugged your hand hard, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arm around you. He hadn't given you a chance to react before he'd kissed you, confidently, as though he knew you'd melt into his arms without argument. And of course he'd been right. You had melted into his kiss as naturally as you would have with Steven.

The wolf whistle of a passer by was the only reason you pulled apart, breathless and warm, entirely forgetting your shoes full of water and the rain pounding down on you.

"Didn't realise you were into the drowned rat look," you had teased.

"You'd be surprised at what I'm into," Marc had grinned in return, rain dripping off his nose.

You splutter at a sudden trickle of cold water running over your face and turn to see Marc laughing, righting the umbrella after he'd let the rain run off onto your head.

"Steven said your head was in the clouds this morning. He's worried about you. Thinks something might be wrong?" His casual, offhand question makes you raise your eyebrows as you wipe the rainwater from your face.

"And you're not?"

Marc shrugs in answer, "I'm sure you'd say if you weren't ok."

You take his hand and squeeze gently with a sigh. He'd never tell you he was as worried about you. He'd never say much of anything about his feelings. That's what got you all into such a mess in the first place, when he realised his feelings. But you've learnt to read him, sometimes better than you can read Steven.

"You don't have to worry. It's all good thoughts."

His frown smooths out, at least a little, as he hums in response to your answer.

"How was work?" He switches the topic, like he always does when things get a little too close to his heart. You'll talk to him later, reassure him everything is alright, encourage him to talk about how he feels, but for now you let it pass.

Your grimace at his question is all you need to do to have him nodding.

"I told Steven we should have let the jackals eat her," he shrugs simply.

"I swear she hates me even more now Steven isn't there,"

Although Steven had lost his job at the museum, you had continued to work there, if only to annoy Donna in all the ways you possibly can as a petty revenge for picking on Steven. Except it had mostly backfired and started a sort of war across the department's. You stubbornly stayed purely because you didn't want her to win, something that both men told you was a pointless endeavour.

"I swear, Marc, the next time she asks someone if Steven should even be allowed outside, I will punch her."

"Okay, but when you do, can you make sure you do it in the way I taught you? I like you having the full use of your hands. No broken fingers," he smiles. All the anger and stress from the day drains out of you as he lifts your clasped hands and kisses your knuckles.

"I'll try,"

The honest answer was that you wouldn't do it. As much as you loved to fantasise about the look of pride on Marc's face if you actually did punch Donna, the fantasy is swiftly followed by the disappointment Steven would have in you.

"How was your day?" You change the topic, not wanting to give any more thought to work.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Steven almost set the place on fire trying to bake cupcakes. We spent most of the afternoon airing the smoke out of the loft and explaining to Mrs Jones the building wasn't burning down."

You can't help but giggle, being able to perfectly picture him arguing with the mirror about whose fault it was, and them having to apologise to the neighbours.

"I'll teach you both how to make cupcakes properly tomorrow," you promise, knowing full well you'll end up teaching Steven, but it will be Marc that eats them all.

Although it's not far to the bus stop, or to the apartment after you get off, and even with the umbrella Marc dutifully holds over your head, you're both still soaked and shivering by the time you walk through the apartment door.

Kicking off your shoes, you scrunch up your nose at the feeling of wet socks on your feet. You lift one foot, hopping as you try and pull off the offending sock, almost falling over with the effort until Marc's hand shoots out to grip the back of your shirt, preventing your fall.

"Liability." You hear him mutter as you finally remove your sock and make quick work of the second.

He waits until you’re just about steady on your feet before he nudges you towards the bathroom.

"Shower, it'll warm you up."

"I'll just get changed and dry my hair. We can have dinner then," you offer, knowing that he probably hasn't eaten yet, preferring to wait to have dinner with you, even though you've told him a hundred times he doesn't have to when you work late.

"And let you get a cold because you won't warm up enough? No." He gives you a pointed look, folding his arms. "Need I remind you, if you get a cold, Steven ends up with a cold, which means I end up with a cold. Not looking after both of you. Again."

You can't help but laugh at his serious expression. Cupping his face in your hands, you smooth your thumbs over his frown, until he relaxes a little bit. He worries too much, and you wish you knew how to show him not to.

"Your hands are cold," he sighs, turning his head to kiss your palm as he unfolds his arms.

"Come shower with me? Warm me up?"

He gives you a raise of an eyebrow which makes you laugh. Of course he was coming with you, like you even had to ask. You give him a quick, cold kiss before you let him go.

"Hate wet clothes," you grumble, attempting to shuffle your way to the bathroom without moving any of your limbs too much, lest you remind yourself how wet your clothes were.

When you finally reach the bathroom, you struggle to undress, getting your shirt tangled over your head as it attempts to glue itself to your skin with the water. You can clearly hear Marc laughing at your predicament, although your shirt is halfway over your face, so you can't see him.

"Need help?" he laughs, tugging it up over your head before throwing the material down with a wet slap against the tile floor. Obviously deciding you can't do the rest by yourself without some disaster, he unbuttons your pants, peeling them down your legs far slower than he needs to, holding your hands as you kick them off. Next, he unclips your bra with a practiced ease, throwing it down to the growing pile of clothes.

His hands are gentle against your cold skin as they glide down across your hips, licking his lips as he hooks his fingers into your panties, tugging them down your legs, once again steadying you as you step out of them.

He turns on the shower, adjusting the temperature until he's happy it's perfect for you, and guides you under the warm flow of water. You let out a long happy sigh at the warmth, tilting your head back to let the water run through your hair as your eyes drift closed while he undresses.

The feel of his cold hands around your waist makes you jump with a hiss, your body already warming up from the water.

Marc cuddles you close to him, leaning his head against your shoulder and your hands come up to automatically run your fingers down his back, feeling the raise of scars that scatter his skin, physical reminders of another life, one he won't talk about, one you're not even sure Steven knows the full extent of. The life that led him to Khonshu.

"Turn around, let me wash your hair," he instructs, not waiting for an answer before he pulls away from you, gripping your hips and turning you around himself. While Steven has a plethora of patience, Marc has a very little.

He carefully works the shampoo through your hair with practiced ease, massaging his fingers into your scalp, which makes you hum with contentment before he rinses it out carefully.

Marc enjoys this the most, taking care of you in little ways. It's easier for him to take care of Steven, but with you, he has to make it more clearly known, even though you don't need it, even though you tell him all the time not to.

Once he's done, and you're fully relaxed from his fingers massaging the tension of the day from your scalp, he slides his arms around your waist, tucking his chin over your shoulder to watch the movements of his hands as they slide up your ribs to cup your breasts.

You allow your head to fall back on his shoulder, eyes flickering shut, a soft moan on your lips as his fingers lightly pinch your peaked nipples.

"Hmm," he hums in your ear, "such a pretty noise. I could listen to you make those noises all night."

His words bring desire pooling in your belly. The last time he said that the weekend had been exhausting, and when you'd rolled into work on Monday, you were sure your legs were still trembling from the night before.

"Marc," you warn softly, not sure you could survive another night like that anytime soon.

He huffs with laughter against your skin, one of his hands making a slow descent down your body, sliding between the apex of your legs as he softly kisses and nips at your shoulder.

His fingers circle your clit with a confident ease, making your breath catch in your throat and your hips buck against his hand. He wastes no time in moving further down, sinking a finger into your heat and curling it against your walls.

You let out a low moan as you shiver with pleasure. Marc wraps an arm over your chest, pulling you back against him as he slowly withdraws his finger before thrusting it back in.

"More, please," you beg, arching your back as the warm water hits your nipples in just the right way, sending frissions of pleasure to your clit.

He obliges your request, removing his finger before he sinks two into you, the noise of the shower unable to cover the wet squelch that accompanies his action.

He wastes no time in twisting and thrusting his fingers into you, the arm around your chest holding you tight against him as your hips buck, and you tremble.

"You warmer yet, baby?" He asks after you give another long drawn out moan at the press of his fingers against your walls.

There's no coherent answer you can give as you feel your climax starting to build, your walls fluttering against his fingers as you press your hand over his, neither stopping or guiding his moments, simply following, unsure what else to do with your hands.

Your legs tremble as his fingers curl, pressing up against that spot inside you. For a fleeting moment you worry your legs might actually give way, but as though he can read your thoughts, Marc's arm tightens around you, holding you up against his chest.

"I got you, baby. Let go," he rasps in your ear, his fingers curling inside you, his thumb sweeping across your clit in just the right way. His words send you over the edge, a loud trembling moan accompanying your orgasm.

Marc holds you up through each trembling aftershock, allowing his fingers to slow in their movements as your breathing evens out.

"The water's going cold. Think we should move this to the bed," his voice is rough in your ear, his arousal all too clear, pressed against your back. His breathing is heavy as his fingers leave you, sliding up and over your clit, making you shiver with a whimpered moan. "Come on, baby."

He kisses your temple softly, before he turns and switches off the water, stepping out and holding out a hand to steady you as you step out as well.

He's often softer than people would think — Ex mercenary, Avatar to an ancient Egyptian god, midnight vigilante, and yet when he leads you out of the shower, and wraps you in a towel warm from the radiator, you could forget, so easily, he's all of those things. In many ways he doesn't have Steven’s gentleness, but in other ways he's just as tender.

And then he slaps your ass and everything balances again.

"Ow!"

"Naw want me to rub it better?" He grins sarcastically, pulling you back against his chest as you go to leave the bathroom. He kisses your neck, nipping at your still damp skin before he lets you go, giving you a gentle push towards the bedroom, impatient as ever.

Grinning, you turn and walk backwards into the bedroom, keeping your eyes on him as you drop the damp towel to the floor, climbing backwards onto the bed.

He leans on the door frame, towel draped around his waist and doing nothing to hide exactly how much he wants you, his eyes holding yours steady as he slicks back his damp curls.

He waits until you're settled on the bed before he follows, dropping the towel before he climbs over you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue sliding between your teeth, hot and insistent.

His hand wraps around your thigh, hitching your leg up over his hip as his tongue slides against yours, exploring every inch of your mouth.

You moan into his mouth as he dips his hand between your bodies, his fingers slipping deftly between your folds, gathering the wetness there and bringing it up to spread across your clit.

"Guess you need no encouragement for round two?" He gives you a smug grin. Whatever smart ass response you might have been able to think of is wiped from your mind as his fingers disappear, and he eases himself inside you without warning.

He groans against your neck, his hand moving back to hold your thigh up against his hip as he presses deeper into you. He barely gives you a moment to adjust before he pulls almost all the way out of you, before slamming his hips back against yours.

You can barely gasp out a curse at the pleasure that shoots through you at his rapid pace. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, the desperate pants and moans from both of you as the coil of tension in your belly starts to tighten once more.

"You feel so good," Marc groans, hitching your leg higher up on his hip, giving you a grin when you whine in pleasure, his cock brushing against your walls in just the right way. "There, yeah?"

"Yes! Yes! Please, Marc, fuck, don't stop," you groan, pressing your foot on the bed to lift your hips to meet his.

He rocks his hips harder into you at a bruising pace, capturing your lips in a messy passionate kiss, nipping your bottom lip as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

He pulls back from your mouth just in time to hear your broken moan as your back arches, nails digging into his biceps, breath catching as the building tension snaps, your climax bursting through you.

Marc groans, low and deep as you tremble beneath him, lost in a dizzying haze of pleasure. His thrusts slow, allowing you to ride out each trembling wave before they fully stop.

You're barely down from the high before you feel him pulling out of you, raising himself up on his knees before he carefully flips you over onto your stomach, grabbing your ankles to spread your legs.

He lets out a groan at you spread out before him, running his palms up the length of your still trembling legs, and over your ass.

"Fuck, baby, you're so hot. We are so lucky to have you."

He leans down over you, his chest against your back as he settles his body over yours.

You let out a low whine of pleasure as he thrusts himself back inside you in one fluid motion, the weight of his body pressing you down into the mattress. He picks up the same pace as before, quick and deep, as though he hadn't interrupted his stride.

You whimper his name as each thrust allows his cock to brush against the blissful spot inside you. Your fingers curl into his pillow, inhaling his scent as his hips slap against yours. Stretching his arm over yours, he laces your fingers, holding your hand tightly as he tucks the other arm under your hips, lifting you to him and pressing his fingers against your clit.

You didn't think it was possible for your body to go again, but your muscles tighten, your breathing stutters, your legs trembling as another climax builds. It's almost too easy, how they can both drag you over the edge so many times, in so many ways.

"Once more. Give me, fuck, one more," he begs as you all but sob in pleasure. The circling of his fingers on your sensitive clit and a well placed thrust is all it has to take you tumbling over the edge into another climax, babbling his name with curses as all the tension seeps out of you, and you collapse boneless beneath him.

Marc hisses out a curse behind you at the feel of your walls clamping down around him. His fingers flex against yours, his arm tightens around your waist, pinning you in place as his thrusts fall out of time.

"So pretty, so fucking pretty, perfect, sweet-" his babbling cuts off in a groan as his own climax shudders through him, emptying himself deep inside you.

He all but collapses on top of you, burying his head between your neck and shoulder as his chest heaves and your trembles finally slow to a stop.

His lips press against the sweat salted skin of your neck before he seals his lips over your flesh, sucking hard enough that tomorrow you know you'll be trying to hide a mark.

When he's done, he hums in contentment, pressing a line of kisses up your neck to your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, the drag of his cock against your walls making your body shudder in overstimulation.

His weight shifts from on top of you as he gets onto his knees, before you feel the press of his lips between your shoulder blades, slowly working their way down your spine until he gently sinks his teeth into the flesh of your ass.

"Marc!" You giggle, twisting to try and look down at him as he seals his lips over the bite, sucking hard enough to leave another mark.

"Steven gets your heart, but this bit is mine. I just want everyone to know," he grins, giving your ass a light slap.

"The only person who sees my ass is you and Steven," you giggle, rolling your eyes. "I'll give you both one half of each thing."

Sighing happily, you stretch out, Marc collapsing on the bed next to you, turning onto his side and reaching out to brush his fingers through your hair as you try to remember how to move your limbs in any coherent fashion.

You smile as you watch him, his fingers following the edges of your jaw, running his thumb across your bottom lip as he admires you.

"I love you," you whisper softly, capturing his wrist to hold his hand steady as you press a kiss to his fingers.

"I know," he responds softly, moving his hand to the back of your neck to pull your lips to his. "Who couldn't love this beautiful ass?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him, shoving him away playfully. He struggles to admit it sometimes. You could count on one hand the amount of times he's told you outright he loves you. Steven throws it out at least three times a day, but Marc is much less free with his words. You know just because he doesn't say it all the time, doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. You know he does, and that's enough.

With a happy sigh of blissed out contentment, you allow your eyes to drift shut in exhaustion. Which of course lasts all of a few moments before you squirm at Marc's fingers softly tracing light shapes against your ribs, ones you could swear are hieroglyphs.

Guess I wasn't the only person leaning from Stevens post-its.

"Don't go to sleep. You'll only be grumpy when I wake you up to eat," he warns softly.

"Won't be," you mumble, trying to fight your eyelids to open as they become heavy, your body sinking into the soft mattress and the warmth, able to just about ignore the sticky mess of your body.

"Come on, you can sleep after dinner," he leans over and places a soft kiss against your shoulder, making you open your eyes to meet his. "You must be hungry?"

Your stomach gurgles in response to his question, and Marc grins, knowing he's right.

"Steak?" He asks, a look of pure innocence on his face, which you know he is anything but.

Summoning your strength, you grab one of the pillows and hit him with it. Marc laughs, holding up his hand in defence and easily deflecting each further blow.

"Oh come on, one bit of steak won't hurt!"

"You promised! You promised we would try and be vegan for a little while for Steven," you pout at him, and Marc gives you his usual easy grin.

"I did try. I tried a whole two -" he ducks as you take another swing at him, "days!" He finishes with a laugh. "So… medium or well done?"

He doesn't wait for your answer before he slips out of bed, dodging the pillow you throw in his direction, and disappearing into the kitchen where he knows your aim can't reach.

It takes all of a few seconds before you hear him arguing with Steven about the dinner choices.

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