#because he's bought much for himself in all that time

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Heritance

There's not much left for Tim in his parents' wills. Or, well, not much by his standards - the rest of the family, barring Bruce and Damian, think he is absolutely loaded and too full of himself to care. Which is maybe a little bit true; receiving about a dozen properties across the world, a trust fund and a wide collection of artifacts that his parents have accumulated through years of their archeological escapades is a lot by middle class standards.

But Tim knows how much money Drakes actually had, and a few old houses and an assembly of junk seems like not much in comparison.

In any case, it's all rather useless in Tim's position. He has no interest in traveling aside from when he has to for a mission, and he couldn't give less shits about archeology even if he tried. The trust fund is fine, he guesses, but it's not like he needs it, what with being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises and one of the Wayne Wards.

So, as morbid as it is, the best reaction he can muster at his inheritance is a shrug and a mention in his mile-long list of 'things I need to figure out when I have time'. Which basically means he'll maybe get to it when he's old and retired, and not any sooner, because Tim Drake the CEO and Red Robin the vigilante are both very, very busy people who never have time.

Naturally, his life has other plans, and it's only two or three months later that Tim finds himself breaking through the balcony window of his own apartment in Praha.

It's at that moment, when he's lying on top of a soft persian rug, surrounded by glass shards and wondering if this move was enough to lose his tail that he realizes his inheritance might be slightly more than just a few properties and some boxes with old things.

Because, through his own heavy breathing, he hears a thoughtful, slightly sarcastic voice from inside the room, "I guess the door was too hard to figure out for you, wasn't it."

He sits up, turning his head so sharply it almost snaps. His eyes immediately fall on a boy not much older than him, sitting with one leg thrown over the other on the dark red couch near the wall. He looks like he clearly belongs here: white, vintage collar shirt and black, high-waist trousers, a silver ring on his thumb that looks too old to have been bought in this century, dark raven hair and perfect porcelain skin.

And he is reading a newspaper. Like a slightly bleeding costumed guy in a domino mask breaking the window and falling onto the carpet is just another Tuesday.

Hold on, this is Tim's house! He double-checked the address, there's no mistake!

"Who are you?" He demands, frowning, as his hands reach to the birdarangs out of habit.

"Keeper of Doors," the boy answers, not looking up and flipping the page, "And you're the Drakes' heir, I assume."

Tim blinks. The response provides no actual answers, it only creates more questions. "What doors?" He asks because the rest of the points can most likely be addressed later. Like the issue of his busted secret identity, right.

The boy sighs and closes the newspaper, folding it in half and uncrossing his legs to sit a bit straighter. "Doors, capital 'D'. The ones that lead everywhere you want."

"The what?.." Tim repeats, dumbfounded and lost in this unexpected nonsense. The boy gives him a truly unimpressed look, his eyebrow twitching. Then, he stands up - Tim's fingers close around the birdarang again - and steps towards the nearest door, grabbing the handle. His feet make absolutely no sound.

"Drake manor," the boy announces and pushes the door open. He doesn't step through, however, instead just standing in the doorway and turning back to Tim, gesturing for him to look.

Tim does.

Seeing the familiar hall, the one he's seen so many times, the one he walked through every day before he moved out, makes him realize a few things at once. One, he needs to revise the list of houses he inherited since it looks like they are not just properties but a map of teleportation points, most likely. Two, his parents knew full well he didn't need the trust fund, it wasn't for him, it was probably for this boy, who may or may not be the, well, gatekeeper. Three, if the first part of his inheritance turned out to be this, he is going to need to call in Zatanna to sort through the collection of his parents' artifacts lest something turns out to be actually cursed in there.

Four, he's been staring at the boy and gaping like a fish for longer than its socially acceptable.

"...What's your name?" He asks, suddenly conscious about the fact he was kind of rude before. The boy snorts, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he closes the door back.

"Danny," he introduces and snaps his fingers. The glass shards around Tim move all at once, rising from the ground and going back towards the window, like a reversed video recording. A second later, the balcony window looks as good as new, not a crack in the glass. "And you?"

"Red Ro-" Tim starts, but then pauses. Fuck it, he might as well, "Tim."

Danny waves his hand in the air, like snatching something out of nowhere, and, just like that, there's a box that looks suspiciously like a first-aid kit in his hands.

"Nice to meet you, Tim. Now, get over here and stop ruining my carpet with your blood."

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

lunch break

Summary: Joel forgot his lunch at home. When you get to his work to bring it to him, he has you for lunch instead.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.1k

Raiting: E

Warnings: established relationship, no outbreak, breeding kink like woah, smut (unprotected sex, public sex, car sex) dirty talk, a little bit of exhibitionism, fluff too I guess

A/N: look, I don't know, this just happened, okay?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed how you thought bringing lunch to Joel would end.

It was supposed to be a quick in and out to the job site, bringing him the lunch he had forgotten before getting back home in time for Sarah to get back from school and take her to the dentist. You had taken the whole day off especially for that because you knew how scared she was to go to the dentist and Joel couldn’t take the day off. 

The project Joel was currently working on was almost a 45 minute drive somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apparently some billionaire had bought the whole land and was now building a luxury hotel, Miller constructions first big contract they had won. 

It were long and exhausting hours but Joel did it all with a smile. 

Sure, one on one time with him had gotten less and less but you were in it for the long haul with him. So long that you had moved into his place earlier in the year. So long that you had talked about having a baby together. 

Something that very much took the backroad since this project started a couple months ago. Or so you thought as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, Joel towering over you in the dusty bed of his truck as he pumped his thick cock into you with deep and long strokes, making it hard to keep quiet. 

You weren’t even sure how this happened. 

One moment you walked towards the three containers that had been set up for all the workers, walking towards Joel who was sitting with his back towards you, the next moment he had you under him in his truck bed, panties pushed to the side under the summer dress you had been wearing, making enough room for his cock to fill you, him not having even pulled off his jeans, only pushing it down far enough to free his cock.  

„Not gonna let me hear you, huh?“ He teased, voice low as he leaned in, his lips kissing up your neck, steadily thrusting his cock into you. 

„Don’t want your people to hear,“ you whimpered, one hand in his hair, to keep his mouth right where it was as he sucked softly on that one spot on your neck he knew drove you insane. You crossed your legs behind his back, moaning at the changed angle he was filling you. 

„So fucking sexy,“ he grunted, kissing down towards your collarbone, his fingers pulling at the front of your dress just so he could free one of your nipples, his lips closing around it immediately after, sucking harshly. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, head thrown back as you looked up into the blue sky above the tree his car was parked beneath. 

Joel was dirty and sweaty, the shirt he had left the house with this morning replaced by a white wife beater that was clinging to his sweaty body. Sweat was dripping down his neck and fuck you don’t think you have ever been more turned on. 

He nibbled on your nipple and you pulled at his hair. 

„Can’t wait till these are full of milk,“ he mumbled against your skin as he kissed himself up your body, nose brushing over your skin as his hips slapped against yours, shaking the whole truck. 

„Full of milk for the baby I’m gonna fuck into you,“ he said, eyes on you before he kissed you deeply, tongue diving into your mouth while he fucked you even deeper. 

You could hear some men laughing in the not so far distance, and you gasped as you remembered just where you were. Were you let Joel have his way with you. You clenched around his cock and he moaned against your lips. 

„Need you to cum for me, baby,“ his forehead came to rest against yours as he fucked into you. 

„Need you to cum so I can fuck my cum so deep inside of you, it’ll take. Gonna make you a mama,“ he murmured, and you gasped. 

„Fuck, Joel,“ you moaned. 

„You want that? Want me to keep you full of my cum?“ He groaned and you nodded.

„I want that. Want you inside me all the time,“ you whined and he groaned a low fuck against your ear as he buried his face against your neck. You wrapped your arms behind his back, one of your hands buried in his sweaty hair.

"Gonna look so good with my baby inside of you. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you once you start to show,“ he whispered against your ear and you shuddered. 

„Cum for me baby,“ he sucked on your earlobe. 

„Cum for me so I can pump you full of my cum. Full of my baby,“ he groaned and you clamped down on him, cumming hard. 

„Oh fuck,“ he groaned when he felt you come, following you almost immediately, moaning against your ear as he came, spilling inside of of you, pumping you full with his cum. 

Both out of breath you just stayed like this, for how long you didn’t know. Could be seconds, minutes or hours, you weren’t sure as you held him in your arms, feeling his warm breath against your neck as he laid on top of you. 

He knew how much you loved having him on top of you. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, a content smile sneaking to your face. 

„Where did that come from?“ You asked after a while and he sat himself up a little so he could look at you. 

„I know you’re ovulating,“ he said and you raised one eyebrow, intrigued at him knowing that.  

„And I’m just really fucking horny for you,“ he said like it was the most normal thing, making you giggle. He chuckled, smiling widely at you before he kissed you softly. 

„Love you,“ you mumbled against his lips. 

„Love you more,“ he mumbled back. 

You were already driving back down the dirt road when Joel made his way back to the construction site, trying to glare at the very obvious smirks and winks he received from his colleagues. 

But who the fuck was he kidding?

He’d go through all the teasing in the world to have a lunch break like that every day. 

It was hours later that he realised, he never actually ate anything.

[hivemuthur]

Can I request childhood friends to lovers with Viktor where he takes reader to prom? I guess this is make up for the time I went to prom alone and just sat in the back uncomfortable cause I didn’t have friends and very socially anxious )):

Hi darling Anon! I went a bit overboard, but I hope you like it :x

Teenage Dirtbag

viktorxfemale!reader general audiences, Viktor asks Reader to prom and guess what, they go!

author’s note: I was hell-bent on making Viktor sound like a teenager here, when I finally decided that he was born with old speech curse. It's just my hc :v @rennethen beta read!

word count: 3,5K

—

You can hear around a fifth giggle this afternoon in the library, followed by an excited yes, and you huff under your nose, re-reading the sentence that got interrupted. Viktor throws you a glance.

“Everything alright?” he asks, whispering, and his breath fans your hand clutching the book. You wince at another distraction and mumble an annoyed yes, not looking up, but Viktor’s eyes are burning a hole in your forehead.

“Ugh, it’s noisy in here today, don’t you think?” you finally whisper back, and if your voice had a pitch, it would be high.

“Yes, well, the prom fever has begun, I believe,” Viktor muses, glancing over at yet another couple exchanging prom invitations and trying to suppress giggles and chatter. When you do only as much as grumble some incomprehensible curse, he presses further. “Are you against prom?”

“Are you not?” you whisper, louder, to the point where whispering actually stops making sense because probably everyone can hear you. “It’s a horrible patriarchal tradition meant to celebrate classic standards of beauty and popularity and alienate outsiders even further. And you have to pay for it.”

“So, am I understanding correctly that you do not intend to go?” Viktor asks, lifting his head to look at you. He studies you for a moment, then smiles—one of those smirks that suggests there will be a very clever follow-up question.

“Exactly.” You nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to physically shield yourself from what you expect to come next.

“Not even if someone has invited you?” His tone remains casual, but the way he tilts his head suggests something more calculated, and for a fleeting moment, it stings that Viktor would even hint at such a thing.

“Not even then, no.” You shake your head, trying to steady the slight waver in your voice, even though it’s still a whisper.

He hums and reaches into his bag. Before you can say anything, he’s waving two pieces of paper in front of your face, a merciless smirk tugging at his lips.

“I guess it’s very unfortunate that I have bought those tickets then?”

You blink, staring at him as your mind tries to process the words. “You what?” Your voice jumps in volume, drawing a couple of scolding glances and an exaggerated shh from a nearby table.

Viktor tilts his head, utterly unbothered. “I have acquired tickets. Two of them. One for me. One for you.”

“You—” Your mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again. “Viktor, why—? What—” you stutter as your brain spirals into synaptic failure.

“Will you go to the prom with me?” he asks smoothly, flashing you an honest, doe-eyed smile. “I know you enjoy complaining about things before inevitably having a good time, so I thought we could give it a try, no? As friends?”

Your jaw drops. “That is not true.” That is so not true. If you say yes, you are absolutely going to complain all the way through and make sure not to have a good time, just to prove your point. But then again, the gesture is so sweet that two conflicting parts of you battle in an unwinnable war. “Viktor, are you sure?”

“What is there to be unsure about? We’ll dress up, make fun of whoever gets illegally drunk, complain about the food, music, and decorations, and then I will walk you home and bid you good night. No casualties,” he says in one breath, as if trying to convince himself now, too. Your resistance has gone on long enough that even he is beginning to doubt the genius of his own plan.

“I… I don’t have a dress,” you say weakly, taking the ticket from his hand. Your fingers brush, and he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“Well, you had better organise yourself then, yes? Unless you intend to die on that hill and say no?” Viktor teases, but the moment the words leave his mouth, he regrets testing his luck so boldly.

Fortunately, you sigh and shake your head. “No, I don’t intend to die on that hill,” you huff, but your face beams despite yourself. “Fine. Let’s go to prom.”

And while Viktor might have preferred to hear I would love to go with you or one of those choked, excited yes sounds that have been echoing through your entire study session, he will take your fine as a first step toward something bigger. Maybe. He will see.

And you, uh. You are going to the prom. To the conceptually horrible party that celebrates bland, generic stereotypes and leaves no space for individuality or oddity (if that’s how you’d describe yourself). With your best friend. And the lie you told through your fucking teeth about not having a dress makes you blush with shame, but at least that’s out of the way. Now all you have to do is just… go.

When Viktor shows up on your doorstep on the night of the event, you don’t expect anything, even though something inside you gets all giddy when your mom calls you downstairs for the goddamn prom picture. You don’t expect him to react, to do anything out of the ordinary—so when he arrives with a tie that matches your dress perfectly and a complimentary corsage, you’d probably drop whatever you were holding, had your hands been occupied.

And Viktor does almost drop the corsage at the sight of you, his grip wobbling on his cane. His eyes stay locked on you as you rush clumsily down the stairs, still tucking in the last few pins into your hair, the dress flowing around you. And it’s, uh. A really good dress. He almost can’t believe that you’ve managed to find it in such a short time. It hugs you perfectly, and the colour brings out the features Viktor knew were there, but now they look just… perfect. And he notices how your face is actually close to perfect. With little bits of imperfections that make you even more pretty. But he can’t make this too weird, so he swallows down all his awe and greets you with a stupid, “Hi.”

“H-hey,” you stutter, feeling oddly scrutinized. But you do take notice of how neatly Viktor’s hair is combed, how the tie suits his eyes. And then the corsage. And then the strange lump of awkwardness in your throat when your mum urges you both to stand closer for the picture. You try to mask your blush by sticking out your tongue and making a silly face, earning an unimpressed huff from her.

The besotted awkwardness lingers all the way from your doorstep to school. Through the hallway, as you gain a few compliments from people whose names you can’t remember. When Viktor gets an odd “nicely done” from a classmate who’s blatantly eyeing you both. You exchange a glance and chuckle—awkwardly, of course.

By the time you finally sit at the table, the weirdness is too much. Mustering whatever courage is left in your overly pampered self, you lean in and say playfully, “Alright. We are at the prom. Entertain me, please.”

“Entertain you? Are you not entertained enough by the lovely décor and impeccable music?” Viktor smiles incredulously, turning in his chair to face you, grateful for the silence to be broken.

“Thoroughly. But I am hungry for more.” You shoot him a grin and lean in closer.

“Well, turn around then,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “Turn around?”

“Go on.” His tone is coaxing, teasing.

So you do. You turn in your chair, facing the room, and almost spit out your drink when Viktor’s arm snakes around your neck, his palm resting on your bare shoulder, his torso pressing lightly against your back. His chin nestles into the crook of your neck as he lifts a hand, finger pointing toward two teachers in the corner of the room.

“Do you think they came drunk or that they got drunk here?” he asks, his voice low with amusement.

You barely register the question at first—too focused on the way his breath fans over your skin, warm and feather-light. Goosebumps prickle across your neck and shoulders, a shiver rolling down your spine before you can stop it.

“I—” You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound normal. “I think—uh, I think they definitely pregamed.” You tilt your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Viktor’s expression. He’s smirking. Of course he is.

“Mm. A strategic move,” he murmurs, not moving away. “Perhaps we should have considered it.”

You huff out a laugh, shifting under his arm in an attempt to ignore the way your pulse has suddenly decided to misbehave. “You do realise that if I came here drunk, I would be insufferable?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “But I find you insufferable even sober, so what difference would it make?”

You elbow him lightly in the ribs, earning a breathy chuckle. He still doesn’t move. And you don’t ask him to. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as he scans the room like a scientist observing an experiment in progress. His finger shifts, pointing toward the stage.

“The lead singer,” he murmurs, amusement curling in his voice. “Look closely.”

You squint, following his gaze. It takes a second, but then—oh. The guy isn’t singing. Not really. His mouth moves just a fraction too late, his lips barely forming the right shapes as the speakers blast out an overproduced ballad.

You gasp. “He’s—he’s lip-syncing?”

“Quite badly,” Viktor confirms, his tone as dry as ever.

You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, but Viktor’s shoulders shake with barely-contained mirth. He leans in a fraction more, his breath warming your ear. “Truly an artist at work,” he muses, eyes alight with mischief.

Your gaze drifts further across the room, taking in the scattered pockets of chaos—the swaying bodies on the dance floor, the clumps of students deep in scandalous conversation, and—

“The punch,” Viktor notes, and you follow his gesture toward a table where two students are very obviously spiking the communal bowl.

You snort. “Bold of them to think no one would notice.”

“Mm.” Viktor hums, tilting his head. “Seems like you can still change your mind about intoxication.”

You scoff, twisting just enough to give him a sceptical look. “Is there a particular reason you would like me to get drunk?” you challenge. “Am I truly this insufferable sober?”

Viktor exhales a sharp laugh, but then—he shifts just slightly closer, his voice dropping low as he leans in, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You asked me to entertain you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his accent thick and deliberate. “I am merely presenting you with the options.”

Heat flares in your cheeks so fast you’re convinced the entire room must see it. Your throat goes dry. Viktor is smug, you can feel it in the way his breath lingers, in the amused tilt of his head when he finally pulls back. And oh, you are not going to let him get away with that.

“I’ll do it if you do it,” you declare, lifting your chin in challenge.

Viktor barely hesitates. “Say no more.”

And that’s how you find yourself cradling a giant plastic cup of aggressively spiked punch, the harsh sting of cheap alcohol unmistakable beneath the artificial fruit flavour. Viktor, beside you, takes a sip and immediately winces.

“Whoever did this,” he coughs, shaking his head, “should be arrested.”

You laugh, swallowing past the burn. “And yet, here we are.”

“Deeply regretting our choices?”

You grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

But the regret fades fast as the night unfolds. You both keep up a steady stream of quiet, conspiratorial chatter, pointing out ridiculous dance moves, stolen kisses, and teachers who look like they’d rather be anywhere else. There’s warmth in it, a shared amusement that makes the room blur into the background.

And then—

A familiar melody hums through the speakers, soft and slow, cutting through the pop songs that came before. Without thinking, you blurt, “Dance with me.”

Viktor turns, eyebrows raised. “I don’t really dance,” he says, tapping his cane lightly against the floor.

Realisation sinks in, and your stomach twists. “Oh—I didn’t mean—”

But he’s already shaking his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Swaying,” he amends gently. “Swaying is a better word for what I’m capable of.”

You exhale, smiling. “I prefer swaying to dancing, anyway.”

So you stay close to your table, moving just enough to count as dancing but not enough to make a spectacle of yourselves. Your arms loop around Viktor’s shoulders, fingers brushing the hairline at the nape of his neck, while his hands find their place at the small of your back, fingers linking together.

At first, the awkwardness lingers. You make some quip about looking like a terrible prom cliché, and Viktor fires back that, statistically, you are. But then—his expression shifts, something softer taking over, something you’ve seen on his face before but never thought much of it.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, he leans in, resting his head in the crook of your shoulder.

You freeze for half a second, caught between surprise and outright joy. The scent of him lingers close, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, and when you absently tangle your fingers into his hair, Viktor trembles. A full-body reaction barely contained, followed by a quiet, unsteady huff against your shoulder.

Your heart thuds.

His grip tightens, one hand shifting higher, fingers pressing firmly into the space between your shoulder blades as he pulls you closer. For a long moment, neither of you speak. You simply sway, pressed together, moving with the rhythm of the song.

And then, as the last few notes echo out and the moment threatens to end, Viktor shifts. His lips brush the shell of your ear, voice low, careful, asking—

“Would you like to go somewhere quieter?”

“I… I thought you’d never ask,” you murmur, voice weaker than you’d like. You swallow hard as Viktor takes your hand without a word, his grip warm and steady. With an effortless sweep, he hooks his cane off the chair, and then you’re moving—out of the too-bright, too-loud gym, into the cool air of the school corridors.

He leads with quiet confidence, and you follow, heartbeat pressing insistently against your ribs. The path is familiar even in the dim light, and it doesn’t take long before you recognise where he’s heading.

“The library?” you whisper as he guides you toward the building. “When you said quieter, I didn’t think you meant completely silent.”

Viktor smirks, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “Would you prefer the janitor’s closet? It is considerably less spacious.”

You scoff. “Not what I meant. Also—isn’t the library locked?”

His smirk deepens. “I know a door that’s never closed.”

And true enough, he leads you around the side, where an unassuming back door sits in shadow. With a practiced motion, he presses the handle, and it gives way with the softest click.

“You’ve done this before,” you accuse in a whisper.

He tilts his head in faux thoughtfulness. “I could neither confirm nor deny.”

Suppressing a grin, you slip inside after him, the familiar scent of books and dust immediately wrapping around you. The hush of the library feels different at night—more intimate, more secret.

You wander between the shelves, fingers trailing along the spines, exchanging glances through the gaps in the books. The flickering light from the streetlamps outside casts shadows between the rows, stretching and shifting as you move.

“So,” Viktor’s voice breaks the quiet, “how is your prom experience so far?”

You hesitate, considering. Then, with a small smile, you answer honestly, “Unexpected.”

Viktor hums, appearing between the books for just a second before disappearing again into another row. “Is that a good thing?”

You step forward, peering through the shelves, catching the flicker of his gaze as he does the same. “Yeah,” you say softly. “It’s nice.”

You keep this quiet game going, stealing glimpses of each other through gaps in the books, smiles tugging at your lips. The anticipation coils in your chest as you round the final shelf, and—

You meet at the end.

Viktor is already there, standing just a step away, watching you. His head tilts slightly, amusement flickering in his expression as he takes a measured step forward.

“And,” he murmurs, voice lower now, smooth and teasing. “Are you entertained?”

Your lips part, a heartbeat passing before you manage to answer. “Immensely.”

Viktor steps closer, the space between you shrinking with every slow, careful movement. His hand finds your waist, warm and sure, fingers pressing lightly against the fabric of your dress.

“And if I did this,” he murmurs, voice edged with amusement, “would you be more or less entertained?”

Your breath hitches at the closeness, heat blooming in your cheeks. But you refuse to falter, tilting your chin up just slightly. “More is… more likely.”

His lips twitch into something that’s not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. Then, with an unhurried grace, he lifts a hand and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers ghosting over your skin.

Your heart stumbles.

“And if, say, I did something like this?” he whispers, his mouth hovering achingly close to yours.

The warmth of him is dizzying, his breath fanning against your lips. Your mind struggles to keep up, to form words, to hold onto logic, but all you manage is a weak, “I think you have to be a little bit more specif—”

You don’t get to finish.

Because Viktor kisses you.

At first, it’s tentative—a soft press of lips, uncertain but intent, as if testing the waters of something fragile and new. His hand tightens at your waist, pulling you the barest bit closer, and you can’t help the soft, surprised sound that escapes you.

And then the hesitation melts.

The kiss deepens, slow but heady, and before you know it, your fingers are threading into his perfectly combed hair, tugging him closer. You feel him inhale sharply against your mouth, and then—

A low, barely-there noise escapes him as your fingers twist further, utterly ruining the neatness he’d so carefully maintained. His hand slides up your back, pressing against bare skin, and when you curl your fingers at the nape of his neck, Viktor shudders—actually shudders again—and lets out a soft, breathy huff against your lips.

Visibly flustered, Viktor pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, though the space between you remains minuscule. His breath is uneven, his carefully composed exterior slightly shaken, and the way his lips part—like he’s still chasing the remnants of the kiss—does nothing to help your own spiraling thoughts.

His fingers linger at your waist as if reluctant to let go, and then, in a quiet, almost sheepish voice, he asks, “So, um… Do you think I could keep entertaining you in a prom-unrelated environment in the near future?”

You blink, your mind catching up to his words, still dazed from the kiss, and then—

“Are you asking me out?”

The sheer wonder and hope in your voice nearly makes Viktor laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching. He exhales, shaking his head as if he can’t believe you can’t believe it.

“I—” He swallows, gaze flickering over your face, then exhales a soft chuckle. “Yes. Yes, I am asking you out.”

 “Yes, I would love for you to keep entertaining me then,” you say warmly.

A smile breaks across Viktor’s face, slow and triumphant, because in one fell swoop, he’s won both of what he wanted—an enthusiastic yes and a very eager I would love to.

And that’s all the permission he needs.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t second-guess it. He just leans in and kisses you again, his hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him. This time, there’s no hesitation, no lingering question marks hanging between you—just warmth, want, and the giddy realisation that this is happening.

Your fingers tangle into his already-mussed hair, and Viktor makes a noise against your mouth that you swear you feel more than hear, something between a sigh and a laugh. His arms tighten around you as he deepens the kiss, as if anchoring himself to this moment, to you.

Somewhere between kisses, between the rustle of clothes and the muffled sound of your shared, breathless laughter, a book teeters off the shelf and lands with a soft thud on the floor beside you. You barely notice. Prom may have been the reason you ended up here, but right now, the only thing that matters is Viktor, his lips on yours, the feeling of his fingers pressing into the small of your back, and the quiet, thrilling promise of whatever comes next.

[porcelaininkpot]

Surfer Asher.

Surfer Asher, whose favourite thing in the whole entire world is swimming out to shore after a long week of work and feeling seaspray against his skin as the sea roars beneath his feet, who feels like he can let go of the world's troubles so long as he has the ocean beneath him and his Babe by his side.

Surfer Asher, that feels most loved in the buzzy afterglow of a pack run at the beach, when him and his wolves can dogpile onto each other and see the bloom and blossom of a deep, rosy sunset in each other's wild, wolven eyes.

Surfer Asher, whose hair is naturally brunette but sun bleached beyond repair, so much so that's it's impossible to believe his hair's naturally bleached and not chemically treated. It carries over into his wolf form, making him one of the palest wolves in the pack despite being rather tanned as a human.

Once he taught Babe how to surf, and their hair became sun bleached, the two made a tradition of taking turns using chalk to smear coloured streaks into the other's hair.

Surfer Asher with deep crows feet and smile lines on his freckled, sunspotted face. They deepen whenever he laughs, and almost seem to glow whenever it's Babe making him laugh.

Surfer Asher that collects seashells from far out into the shore when he wipes out on a wave, and taught himself how to weave them into anklets, waistbeads and necklaces for Babe to wear.

David that buys Asher the highest of high end sunscreens, only for him to never remember to apply it before he dives in.

Asher that suddenly became extremely diligent about sunscreen when he started dating Babe, realllyyy wanting to apply sun screen but its just so hard and an extra pair of hands just makes everything so much more easier and 'Baaabe can you help me out? I think I missed a spot here, and here, and here, and-' and is shut up with a kiss.

Surfer Asher that was once challenged to a competition by Christian to see who the better surfer was, but three hours into the surf-off both of them forgot about the challenge because they were just having so much god damn fun with each other, laughing and teasing instead of sniping for the first time in their lives.

They gained a new respect for each other after that day, but of course that hasn't changed the fact that they still enjoy the occasional snipe shall the opportunity present itself.

Surfer Asher that takes Babe on constant beach dates, and once tried to impress them by doing a trick, but got so distracted by the way they looked in a swimsuit he lost focus and went flying instead, later begging Babe with puppy dog eyes to kiss him better wherever it hurt, which was everywhere.

Surfer Asher that's used the same surfboard since he was a teen, it was one gifted to him by Gabriel that matches with ones bought for David and Milo. Gabe claimed he just wanted to treat his pack pups, but Asher knows deep down that it was because he knew his family was too broke to ever be able to buy one, and was the kind of person to refuse to let his passion for the waves die.

Surfer Asher that never ever dewaxes his surfboard, which disgusts Milo to no end. One day Milo stole and dewaxed his board for him and Asher acted like he had sacrificed his firstborn child, and didn't forgive him until he made him a full course dinner as an apology.

Asher that after the inversion didn't allow himself near the seashore for months, feeling too guilty to let himself enjoy the waves like he used to. Asher that survived the shades, but was still drained of all life the longer he abstained from the ocean.

It was Babe that took his hands and drove him down to the seashore, that held him as he took quivering steps onto sand so soft it was as if the beach was caressing his wounds and scars, coaxing him back into it's cool embrace. It was Babe that swam out to sea with him and led him into his first barrel in what seemed like years, Babe that 'slipped' right after the lost his balance from sheer giddiness and Babe that swam up to him and tangled their fingers into his sea salted hair as they kissed him hard amidst the waves.

Asher Talbot who has devoted his life to the ocean, whose heart is abeat amidst tides and seafoam, but would give up surfing and ever touching the ocean again in a heartbeat if it was for his lover and for his pack.

[xmintpiex]

The Bullet Point

wc: 3,721

Marriage and everything else that came with it were part of your dream. Not Sae's.

content: Sae Itoshi x fem!reader, sfw, sunshine!reader (she's def over the top), fluff, romance, childhood friends, shoujo inspired (specifically itazura na kiss), silly. AU.

The idea had sounded absolutely perfect when Mrs. Itoshi brought it up, the certainty in her voice, that twinkle in her eyes. Rin seemed to be all settled in his apartment now, and your dad had plenty of helping hands at his bakery. It was the perfect time to carry out the plan you had been dreaming about, tossing and turning and giggling with excitement late at night about for years now.

The plan, that dream that kept you going even when things got hard, when you felt sad and alone. The plan that Mrs. Itoshi fully supported you in, always coming up with the most brilliant ideas to add, Mr. Itoshi speaking up gently to maybe make them a little more realistic. The one that Rin would roll his eyes at and call you stupid over (he was just jealous! hmmph!). The one that your dad would shake his head fondly at, with amusement and that subtle pride in his smile.

Words written down in your old childhood diary, circled and doodled around, the page covered with hearts and stickers and the sign of age, yet still just as true.

So you bought that long one-way plane ticket from Japan to Spain that same day, spirits high and determination unbreakable. After all, Sae was all alone in that foreign land, left to fend for himself for so many years, you couldn't bear to leave him like that anymore! Now you finally had the chance to be there with him! Yes, that’s right, you would be there to cook his favorite meals (..the ones that fit his highly selected meal plan anyways..), make sure his luxury apartment wasn't just a house but a home (cozy pillows, photos, and matching toothbrush holders and so much more!), and cheer him on during each and every one of his games, in person now!

Your smile was still so bright as you somehow managed to hail a taxi driver at the airport with a mixture of your nonexistent Spanish and incredibly poor English (..perhaps you should have studied a little more...) and showed them the address that you had saved on your phone for months. The address that was memorized by heart, the one that you had already sent a plethora of letters and care packages to.

Your eyes were dazzling as you got out of the cab and stood in front of that sleek, beautiful apartment complex that Sae was residing in. You could hear your heart beating so fast at the thought of finally being able to see Sae after 4 months of being apart, and that this time it would be permanent, it wouldn’t be just another short visit. The apartment no longer just the photo pinned to your bedroom wall, your dreams no longer only confined to the touch of the glossy paper and magazine cutouts beneath your fingertips.

It was only when you got that panicked phone call from Mrs. Itoshi, as you were trying and failing to get the apartment complex’s security guard to let you in that your bright smile diminished a bit. Because Sae was not currently in Spain. He was in Germany, as was Rin, and would be there for at least a month due to some football event he had joined.

The twinkle in your eyes seemed to die a bit and your smile became so much smaller as you came to the sudden realization that you were in a foreign country, two large heavy suitcases at your side, with no understanding of the language and no place to stay. You sank to the ground, hugging your knees as you inhaled heavily to hold back your tears as fear clouded your thoughts.

But!

You would be okay because you had the power of a credit card! And just like that, you popped right back up, your determination burning brighter than the scorching sun above you (the young security guard might have been looking at you with a look of utmost fear, but that didn't really matter right now).

So you decided to go for a little walk around the neighborhood, taking in the fresh crisp ocean breeze, the sound of distant seagulls and crashing waves soothing your worries. Stopping for a delicious lunch at that cute little restaurant you spotted (giggling to yourself as you pictured eating there with Sae next time, oh so romantic!), noticing a cute little storefront that seemed to have been recently sold (perfect for a bakery you mused dreamily) before you managed to get another taxi to take you right back to the airport.

You miss how the security guard of Sae’s apartment complex so desperately tried to wave you back over, his black cell phone pressed to one of his ears as you excitedly looked at your trip itinerary for Germany in the back seat of the taxi.

The first thing Eita Otoya notices about you is your cute, sunny smile as he sits down next to you on the crowded plane and your excitement and relief at the realization that he also speaks Japanese. The second thing he notices is that dainty rose gold ring around your finger, twisted and dotted with little white diamonds, reminiscent of ocean waves in the sunset. It looks vaguely familiar, a small tickle in the back of his head that he can’t quite pinpoint. He assumes it must be some trendy designer jewelry piece he saw somewhere like that overly expensive bracelet that so many of his ex-girlfriends had wanted him to buy.

The third thing he notices about you is your soft, sparkly eyes, the light flush of your cheeks when he asks you if you have a boyfriend (he’s learned the hard way to always ask that question), and how you bashfully shake your head ‘no’. How cute. He assumes he’s in the clear then, to have you be his friend for a bit while he stays in Berlin, he’s already picturing taking you out to restaurants, enjoying a good meal together, having you cheer him on, and a bunch of other things with a cute girl like you at his side.

Eita Otoya does not notice the bubble of giddy laughter that is barely contained behind your bright smile, that far-off, dreamy look in your eyes after he had mentioned the term boyfriend. Because you definitely did not have a boyfriend.

Not anymore!

Rin Itoshi is already feeling a migraine forming from the grueling experience of having to sit between his two most obnoxious teammates on that 2-hour plane trip from Paris. He thinks he’s officially lost it, that he’s seeing hallucinations now because he swears he sees your dumb smiling face in the goddamn Berlin airport. Impossible. There's no way, even you aren't stupid enough to plan something like this, right?

…

Right?

…

Sae Itoshi’s manager thinks today is the day he will die. If not from the extreme levels of stress he is currently experiencing, it will be from Sae Itoshi’s cold wrath. The poor man is sweating, his normally pristine suit rumpled and drenched, sleeves rolled up, glasses sliding off his damp face as he has his phone pressed to his ear, laptop open as he desperately scrolls through credit card transactions and airline information.

Sae is still in the midst of his interview, answering bluntly and clinically in his typical manner yet his words seem even more curt than normal. Left foot subtly bouncing, hands locked together, cold teal eyes glancing back to his frantic manager between questions.

Immediately taking his phone out of his pocket the moment the cameras are turned off and everyone is packing up. Jaw clenching when the number he calls leads straight to voicemail.

It’s not until you’re at the hotel lobby (Otoya-kun's suggestion, oh he's so nice, you're so happy you made a new friend!), taking out your card to pay for your hotel room, it finally dawns on Otoya about where exactly he had seen your ring before. His eyes zeroing in on that very, very familiar name printed on the credit card in your hands.

Oh.

(Ninja Art: Strategic Exit)

You're done paying for your hotel room, excited to finally put your suitcases somewhere and then go eat at that amazing restaurant Otoya kept mentioning, turning to face him only to find him nowhere to be found. Brows furrowed and lips pouting in concern and confusion as you look around the hotel lobby, trying to figure out where your new friend could have gone.

"You."

That familiar voice, the one that you could recognize with your eyes closed, the one you sometimes fall asleep to while on facetime with. The voice engrained into your heart. Monotone and cold yet anything but (especially right now). Your smile is the brightest it's been all day, the brightest it's been in months really, suitcases and hunger and exhaustion (and Otoya-kun's mysterious disappearance) all forgotten from your mind as you rush over to him, flinging your arms around him.

"Sae!"

Your heart so warm, beating so brightly, so bubbly like your favorite fizzy candy. A feeling you've always felt with Sae.

Like when you were 6 and you dropped your ice cream cone.

You’re in absolute shock, ready to cry yet again and Sae does not want to deal with that again, he doesn't like it when you cry. You've had too many things to cry about recently, but at least this situation is something he can try to control. So he shoves his own ice cream cone into your hand, hoping that’ll be enough. It’s something he’s used to doing for his younger brother, just the most effective way to stop your nearly endless tears. Another crybaby in his life to take care of. Your small hands linked together as you walk around the neighborhood park, your shimmering eyes glued to him.

Or when you’re 8 and you and your dad and the Itoshi family go out for your weekly movie night.

An established ritual of going to see a movie together with reservations ready at that yummy restaurant later, something your families have done ever since you could remember. The movie was your choice this time, a story of a mermaid becoming a human princess and living in a seaside castle with her adorable sea creature friends and her beloved prince, fixing all their problems with the power of love and friendship.

Your eyes barely left the movie screen as they dazzled in excitement at how the mermaid princess and her human prince danced and spun around on that beautiful balcony overlooking the ocean. The warmth in your heart and the little tears of happiness that bubbled in your eyes as the prince and the mermaid got married.

You still weren’t too sure what marriage was, all you knew was that it meant you could sleep in the same bedroom like Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi did, that you would love each other forever, make each other happy forever, even if you couldn’t see each other (like how your dad visited your mama every year, a fresh flower bouquet, warm glossy eyes, and soft smiles). An endless playdate with your favorite person in the whole universe, always happy and together!

That was what you wanted, that was what you dreamed of. So you declared during dinner, a little too loudly in the quiet restaurant, that you had a dream of what you wanted to do as an adult. Clumsily standing up from your seat, nearly tipping your water cup over, face scrunched and rosy with determination and courage and too much soda.

Your declaration that you and Sae would get married when you were older and live in a seaside castle just like in the movie and live together forever and ever (and become mermaids and other such crucial details). Your small warm hand had gently grabbed Sae’s hand during your declaration and his teal colored eyes bore down at where your hands were linked. “Okay.” He had simply said in that monotone voice.

Your dad and Mr. Itoshi looked at you wide-eyed before laughing heartily, your dad reaching over to ruffle your head. Mrs. Itoshi nodded enthusiastically, overwhelmed by your absolute cuteness as she sniffled proudly, already calling you her precious, adorable daughter-in-law, already envisioning and planning a grand wedding as Mr. Itoshi gently rubbed her shoulder in hopes she wouldn't make this even more of a scene.

Rin grumbled and huffed and told you that was stupid, that something like that was impossible and even if it were, Sae wouldn’t live in some stupid seaside castle! His big brother would live in a football stadium with him, the two of them the #1 and #2 best strikers in the whole entire world!

You were pouty and your eyes full of tears, like the little crybaby you were as you bickered with Rin (h-how dare he! You were older! Hmmph! Why did he never listen to you as he did with Sae!). Sae was silent through the whole thing, still chewing on his bite of pasta, quiet as he usually was when the two of you harmlessly fought over him, his free hand still in your grasp. Until finally cutting in.

"We can do both."

Rin eventually agrees that you can have your castle across from their football stadium and that you can host your tea parties to celebrate every single game they will win. You reluctantly pout back that he can be a mermaid too and have sleepovers in your castle…if he listens to whatever you say!

Amongst the laughter and chatter and the sound of Mrs. Itoshi’s camera, as she forever immortalized this moment, Sae Itoshi added another minor detail to that small list of bullet points he kept in his head.

It’s when you’re 10 and you’ve made your first batch of homemade cookies all by yourself without the help of your dad (aside from helping you with the oven stuff).

Your fingers are a little burnt (and so are the cookies), but your eyes are sparkling, smile bright and hopeful as you rush off skipping to the neighborhood park to meet up with Sae and Rin, holding the little red cookie tin to your chest.

"They taste burnt."

Sae says matter-of-factly after a bite, chewing slowly as if that would help him make a proper critique.

"Yeah, they're burnt! Bleh! Burnt!"

Of course, Rin mimicking him before adding his own little flair.

Your lip wobbling, lashes fluttering slowly, eyes getting hot and wet with tears.

Sae reaching into the little tin for another one and then another until they're all gone, eating each one despite your tearful, pouty whines.

"They're not bad. Just keep making them, I'll eat all of them."

It's when you’re 13 and Sae is leaving.

Leaving to go live in a whole other country, away from you. Your tears are large and already seeping into Sae’s brand-new jersey as you wish and whine so badly that you could go with him. He’s quiet, and calm, telling you to stop being a big baby, saying he’ll be back for a visit in a few months probably. His hand in yours, a subtle squeeze, as his other hand gently pinches your pouty lips. You'll be good for him, right?

A little moment of hesitation before he suddenly leans in, cheeks just as red as yours, his lips clumsy and quick, a sweet little press against yours. Your eyes on him, wide and bubbly, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Your lips wobbling as you attempt to pucker them, looking up at him expectantly in hopes he will do it again.

He lets out that rare little noise you adore, that soft chuckle, the corner of his lips slightly upturned, only your silly face in his teal eyes. He leans in and you perk up excitedly, wanting to make sure your second kiss is perfect, longer, closing your eyes, hands trembling.

Only for him to pinch your lips again with his fingers.

"Crybabies don't get second kisses unless they're good."

And when you’re 14 and Sae is visiting for a few days.

It’s a cold winter day, full of fluffy white snow and you’re bundled up tight in the red scarf that Mrs. Itoshi gifted you. It’s just the two of you because Rin refuses to leave his room (he’s been in a really bad mood recently, you're still figuring out how to cheer him up..both of them up).

The two of you walk around the park as the snow falls, Sae is quiet, even more than normal, as you point things out or tell him about some of the things that have happened while he was gone. Your gloved hands are entwined, as always when the two of you walk. His hand feels different, a little bigger, a little thinner, a little more rough, just like the rest of him. His teal eyes are dull, trained on the snowy path you walk, before settling onto your obnoxious beaming smile, the flush of your cheeks, the way he looks reflected in your eyes.

Pulling him to go sit on a snowy bench before taking out that familiar old cookie tin, full to the brim of sugar cookies, sprinkled with red and blue sprinkles, edges a little cracked.

"I'm on a diet, you know."

Yet he's reaching for one, pressing the allegedly "heart-shaped" cookie to his lips and taking a slow bite. Your eyes watching every little moment of his mouth, your heart beating nervously and your gloved hands fisted with nervousness.

"Better than last time."

Your smile too bright, it could rival the sun.

He reaches for another only to be tugged down, his lips unceremoniously pressed against yours, too sudden, your nose nearly hitting his. Crumbs still on his lips, now on yours. Sweet like vanilla and butter.

So perfect.

It’s when you’re 16, having another one of your long-distance phone calls.

You babble endlessly as always, phone pressed to your ear as your legs sway back and forth as you lay on your plushie-covered bed. Sae, as usual, is mainly silent as he continues with his gym routine, responding with an occasional grunt or ‘hmm’ as you go on and on. His ears full of nothing except the clinking of gym equipment and your loud, cheery voice. You mention your new friend who you’re going to the movies with this weekend, the boy at your school who offered you his umbrella on a rainy day (so kind!), and who always wants to eat lunch with you.

"Didn't you fail your math test? Don't waste your time on stupid things like that and study instead."

"..S-Sae!!" (As usual…he was right.)

A few days later you receive a small package from Spain, sent via express mail, a little silver ring, and a simple four-word note.“Do not take off.”

You're ecstatic, showing off to everyone who will listen (and Rin of course). Spamming Sae's messages with way too many selfies. Your hand and that sparkling little ring the main focus in all of them, receiving nothing back but that little 'read' indication and a single "go study" message.

It's when you're 17, sat at the Itoshi's kitchen table.

Going through the recent sports magazine that Sae graced the cover of, your handy scissors at your side as you happily recount Sae's most recent interview to those present.

(Your smile too wide as you trace over that familiar silver ring that's hung around his neck, barely visible under his jersey, fingertips against the cold, glossy paper.)

Rin with his arms crossed and trying to look as disinterested as possible while Mrs. Itoshi happily nods from where she's typing away at her work laptop. But you give Rin that smile that always makes him huff, nervous at whatever dumb thing you're going to do now, seeing him twitch and try to hide his flustered look as you produce a second magazine of the same issue, still in its plastic wrap.

"This way you can cut out Sae's pictures and have them on your wall too! Let's make dream boards together, Rin!"

"S-shut up!"

It's right now, settled in the back seat of the car as the driver drives the two of you back to where Sae is staying, your head on Sae's shoulder.

You're already fast asleep, your exhaustion, the happiness of your heart catching up with you (and the jet lag). Hands entwined. Matching wedding rings glowing under the bright passing city lights, the softness of the moon.

His phone is silenced, lighting up for a moment, the notification of his new interview being posted, before the screen fades back to darkness, tucked away in his bag next to that red cookie tin you had excitedly taken out of your suitcase. For now, the interview was irrelevant, forgotten in the midst of your peaceful snores, his soft, amused smile.

But in the morning, when Sae was already well into his morning routine, you would be cozy and warm and still so sleepy under the silky covers. He would then take the time, sat at the small hotel room patio with his kombucha, to skim over his interview.

'Sae Itoshi Confirms Marriage Rumors.'

He knew that once you woke up, once your sleepy, jet-lagged state gave way to your usual bubbly energy, you'd be over the moon. Squealing and giggling and saying how you needed to save the article in your scrapbook. Nearly jumping on him as you showered him in too much affection, messy little kisses, and cheeks pressed together. Undeniable proof of your dream coming true, solid like that ring around your finger, like the marriage certificate framed back in the apartment in Spain.

Your dream.

But not Sae's.

Because for Sae, marriage was not a dream, not some goal he would eventually achieve when he deemed it time. It had never been any of that. You and your overly burning love, your too-radiant smiles and laughter, your crybaby tears, your warm hugs, and noisy kisses, and sweet sugar cookies were just truths. Undeniable facts in his life. Your presence in his life, your relationship never a dream, never a goal, never a checkmark, but a bullet point. A bullet point on that little list of things that were fundamental to Sae Itoshi's life.

[coolchasteboy]

"You want me to wear a thong bikini on vacation" I asked. "Yes babe. I bought it for you to wear while we are in San Juan" said Mina.

This was after she started feminizing me. I had worn a bikini one time before on vacation because my luggage got lost. But this time, I don't know, I just wasn't ready. "Mina, I think I just want to wear a speedo or something in San Juan." She frowned. I knew that frown. It meant she was disappointed. "Look Jennifer, we are going on this vacation as BFFs. I am going to get some dick on this vacation and so are you. And you are going to do it as Jennifer. And girls wear thong bikinis. Do you understand." I just looked at her and said "yes, I understand." With that Mina said she would pack my bag for me. We were to leave in the morning. "I will pick a travel outfit for you to wear" she said. I just nodded and made a bath so I could shave my body hair.

The next morning we got up super early. Our flight left at 6:30 am so we had to get to the airport by 5 am. "Jennifer, time to get up. I laid your outfit on the chair last night after you went to sleep." "I am tired" I whined. "Get up, get up, get up" she said. So I did.

My outfit was super cute. It was a cute white linen cotton romper, cute black thong undies, red bra, and some wedge heels. I got dressed, made us some tea, and we were off. The flight was uneventful. The flight attendant complimented me on my outfit. "OMG, you look super cute!" she said. The other flight attendant, a man, also complimented me. "I hope you are going somewhere fun where you can show off a bit" he said. I just laughed and said "the same place you are going, San Juan." "You know" he said "we have a two day layover in San Juan. If you want, we can hang out some while I am there." With that I gave him my number. He was a bit older than me and had really cute short brown hair with signs of grey. I could just totally run my hands through his hair. Mina was really happy. "He is really cute" she said. "I know" I replied back.

We got a cab to the hotel. We had a female driver. She was so beautiful. She asked what we were going to get up to while in San Juan. Mina said loudly "we are going to get so much dick while we are here." The driver responded "yeah, I hear that. You go girls!" With that she gave us the name of some clubs.

After being dropped off and getting checked in it was time for the beach. Me in my new thong bikini and Mina is a super sexy one piece. "Let's go" she said. "Put on a sarong or some shorts on the ride down to the beach." At the beach, we made our place and then my phone rang. It was Mitch, the airline attendant. "Yeah, come on down to the beach" I said. He was there shortly thereafter. OMG, did he look yummy. He was in a white bikini bathing suit. His package was huge. Mina had gone in the ocean and I was there trying to put sun screen on. "Let me help" he said. "Get on your hands and knees so I can put some on your back." So I did. I was there on all fours. He got behind and moved my legs apart and then came up behind me. I could feel his boner through his bikini pressing against my boi pussy. I started leaking cum at this point. He was slowly rubbing lotion in, stretching himself and his boner into me. "How does that feel" he said. I didn't know how to describe this feeling and said "It feels incredible against me." With that I moved my thong strap to the side. I could feel the tip of his cock outside of his bikini. It was against my pussy. "And this, how does this feel?" he asked. "Like heaven" I responded.

There was hardly anyone on the beach. I pushed back against his cock. I heard him lower his biking slightly. His cock started rubbing against my pussy. He then put one finger and then two inside me. He finger fucked me. "How about now" he asked. "Yeah, I like that. You can put you cock in me now if you want" I said. He slowly removed his fingers and position his swollen hard cock at my pussy entrance. "It is time" he said and then just pushed in me. I am not going to lie, it hurt, but at the same time it felt so good. And he just kept pushing in and out. I was so worried that someone would see us or call the cops. But I didn't dare ask him to stop. "Are you wearing a condom" I asked. "No" he responded, while still fucking me. Then his pace picked up and his breathing and then he just slammed me. I could feel his cock pulsate and I could feel his warm juices inside me. Still no one was around. When he finished he pulled out, put my thong back over my pussy, and pulled up his bikini. "Thank you" I said. He just patted me on the ass and left. I called him a couple of times that evening but he never answered, nor returned my voice mail or text.

When Mina got back she said "I saw him humping you while I was in the water." "He did more than that" I said. "He fucked his cum deep inside my pussy." "OMG, you little slut. I can't believe you got dick before I did" she said. "Mina, I feel like a cum slut now. I mean, I just let a man unload in me. I didn't really know him." Mina held me in her arms while the sun was setting on the beach. "Jennifer, that is what we woman do. It is hard to explain, but we just take men's cum. Sometimes it is from a boyfriend and sometimes from a stranger. We are just built this way. You are built this way. You are a woman." She then kissed my head. "I love you Mina" I said. "Thank you for making me into a woman."

Bodies Kissed by the Sun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[lilacxquartz]

Trouble in Paradis: Jealousy

levi ackerman x f!reader

plot: various one shots of yandere house husband levi ackerman x oblivious reader continued — scenario: thinking that you have a secret admirer, levi is not pleased — a/n: reminder, this is a no titans au • w.c: 800ish • masterlist • on ao3

Levi stared at the bouquet of flowers that sat over the breakfast, his fingers drumming against the wooden surface. The arrangement was delicately selected and put together with such care, that it made him seethe.

They were your favourite flowers too and even the binding paper was a colour you enjoyed. Meaning someone took the time to get to know your preferences, which didn’t sit right with him at all.

After all, why would someone else need to know that sort of thing? Didn’t he make it clear enough to everyone that you were his? Perhaps there was someone who simply just didn’t know about him and his role as your loving husband just yet.

If that was the case, then, well… that much had to change, because nobody had any business giving you flowers, especially not ones like these.

As he plotted his search, Levi leaned forward, extending his hand to grab at the flowers, rubbing the petals between his fingers to inspect them further. These were pricy. Likely from Petra’s floristry. Her assortments didn’t run cheap either, so someone splurged with you in mind.

How… unacceptable.

Just as he was done meticulously plucking the flower for all that it was worth, and right before he reached for another one, the front door flung open, revealing your return. Levi stopped in his tracks, dusting away the petals, turning his attention back to you.

“Finally got everything…” you opened up with, settling some produce on the counter. “Can you believe these were all free?”

Levi absentmindedly nodded, smiling for your victory but the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. No, he was too focused. He shouldn’t be though. At least not around you. With that, he sat up straighter, smoothing his expression into something warmer, allowing his eyes to wonder around all of the ingredients you managed to score.

“How wonderful,” he forced, “we’re going to eat so well this week.”

However, Levi also couldn’t resist.

“Where did you get those from?” he asked, pointing at the bouquet.

For a moment, you were dazed, but then blinked towards his guided direction. “Oh!” you happily chirped, unaware of his building internalised anger. “I got these from a customer just this morning. Isn’t that so sweet?”

Levi stilled and didn’t answer for a hot beat. He stared at you for a long time, studying both the way you reacted to receiving such a gift and how you spoke about it. You were oblivious. Of course you were. He was used to that much.

“Ah, of course,” he finally said, biting back what he truly wanted to say, “I'll be right back,” he added, slipping out of the front door before you could protest.

As Levi walked, he found himself walking into Petra’s floristry, ready to interrogate if needed, even when he knew he shouldn’t. He stormed inside, the bell above the door swinging with a violent ring that made the shopkeeper pause.

“W-welcome to…” Petra stammered, before realising it was just Levi, “oh, it’s just… can I help you?”

Levi didn’t waste a single second of time before he described word for word, petal for petal, the bouquet that ended up in your hands. “Who bought it?”

Petra blinked, her mind blanking as she tried to recall. “Right… well, um, I think… a military officer swung by for that one and his w—“

“—give me names, Petra,” Levi strained, catching her right before she could finish speaking. A military officer? How quaint. Perhaps it was someone who thought they had a chance. Not if he could help it.

Petra reluctantly gave him a wary glance before reciting the two names that sought the flowers. “It was a thank you gesture.”

Levi paused as a woman’s name popped up, but more importantly, the nature of the gift. He calmed his tone, reigning himself in, “A thank you gesture…?”

Petra nodded, looking a little less nervous now that he was calmer. “Yes, apparently she helped his wife out with something a while ago when she was sick, so they wanted to pick out a bouquet together as a gesture from them both.”

Levi stared at her, feeling the tension gradually leave his body. His shoulders sagged from his once taut posture and he let out a deep, strained breath.

“Ah,” he simply said, returning back to his regular, albeit still stoic self, leaving Petra just as uncertain as before, “in that case then,” he pondered before continuing, “I’ll take another bouquet exactly like that.”

“P-pardon?” Petra replied, although still idly moving to go and sort the arrangement, threading out flowers from pots and lining a sheet of paper on the counter.

“Add in some of those though,” Levi pointed at a few other varieties, knowing you liked those too.

So be it. You’ll have two bouquets on the table.

That much was fair wasn’t it?

His lovely wife who was so helpful, who deserved just a bit of extra praise. Seeing how happy those flowers made you too, thinking back to the glimmer in your eyes as your gaze glossed over them on the table…

Well, it was only fair that he brought you some every week now, wasn’t it?

Only the best for you, after all.

[crush-itis]

ྀི. ̞. ১ ✿ ㅤ𓈒 crush-itis

ㅤㅤ . ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ㅤ. 𓂂 Stardew Valley ⊹

bachelors x gn!farmer ꒱ 🎀 a date with them

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

♥︎： My first post on Stardew Valley x reader! Romantic, mostly sfw + light suggestive themes ♡〜（ゝ。∂）

♥︎： The night is still young, and the moon had already taken it’s throne in the starry skies. While the villagers begin clicking their front doors locked, you secretly slip into Alex’s house as he told you to. He loves (salmon) dinners, especially for dates. His grandparents are already tucked in bed—snoozing—so you two have enough time to eat, converse, laugh, and hold each other. He lit candles on the dinner table, prepared a bouquet of flowers of your favourite kind, and cooked everything. Then perhaps if the two of you are finished eating, he’d suggest a few more moments of your time… taken to his bedroom. It’s a simple, provincial date, but he’ll keep this memorable day to himself.

♥︎： By the beachside where his house is near, he prepared a humble picnic for the two of you. A red, gingham blanket sits, sprawled on the warm sand, and a basket full of your favourite snacks, foods, and his are stored. He brought wine glasses (if you drink), and a couple novels of his favourite he’d think you’d like. He loves reading, so if you don’t mind, he’d blabber all about his favourite classic romantic literature, and if you happen to like reading as well, he’d possibly fall for you more. But besides that, he’d also insist on feeding you grapes or something.

♥︎： It’s late evening, and your hands are in your pockets (or bag), making sure if you have your movie tickets. Harvey bought both of your snacks, and a few of your popcorn accidentally spilt out of the checkered paper bag. You two sit next to each other in the theatres, plopping snacks into your mouth. As you watched the ads play, Harvey gently let your head rest on his shoulder, and a tentative hand slipped onto your thigh. It was hard to react since you were both out in public. Then, he just had to let his hand brush towards your inner thigh. It lingered, until he finally let go, and draped a warm arm on the back of your seat. It was quite awkward, but kind of romantic.

♥︎： You two go out in Zuzu City once again, but for a karaoke night. He’s terrible at singing, but you can’t help but fall harder for him because of how silly, and cute he is. You two share laughs while singing songs, and even pretend like the both of you are in a podcast. Sam will order a few drinks, and snacks then take a break after to soothe both your hoarse voices. The night grew, and you glanced at your phone to check the time. Suddenly, Sam abruptly pulled you into a kiss, trying to get your attention from the time. You didn’t expect that, but you soon melted into his touch, not even realizing how much time had already passed.

♥︎： You, and Sebastian also visit Zuzu City to go in the arcade, laughing about as you two step inside the dim lit, colourful building. Neon colours flashed on the games, and trendy music beamed in the hidden speakers. When your attention was quickly steered towards the claw machines with stuffed animals inside, Sebastian would help win you a few plushies of your favourite. After having your hands now full with big, fuzzy friends, you two then played the big arcade games. Everything inside was full of distractions, like the colourful lights, the loud soundtracks of the arcades, childrens’ chattering… and yet, Sebastian’s eyes were completely glued to you. He smiled softly, breathing a joke into your ear before you two continued playing with the bright red controller

♥︎： The sun was setting, and a picture of orange, pink, and yellow danced in the sky, the colours clashing together into a warm, alive painting. Shane let out a chuckle as you two plopped yourselves onto a nearby bench, licking your ice creams you both bought from the ice cream truck. You pointed out these clouds that look like puppies or kittens, and he’d watch, pretending to see whatever you’re seeing. He’d exchange a few glances at you, and your ice cream, asking if he could have a taste. With you still licking your own, you nodded, but to your surprise, he leaned in, and kissed you. He tried the creamy treat on your tastebuds with your saliva infused. It was a heady treat, and he liked that particular flavour.

ㅤㅤ. ‿‿ ‿‿ ୨ ୧ ‿‿ ‿‿ .

ׅ ׅ 𝒯hank 𝒴ou !!

[accio-sriracha]

Because @bradleysass politely held a gun to my head...

SNIPPET TIME

This one is from (you guessed it) another unpublished wip of mine called "My Brother's Best Friend"

"Uh... help yourself to anything." Regulus paused as he gestured to the fridge, "Especially since you bought most of it."

Potter just chuckled and toed off his shoes, walking across the small, one room flat to plop down on Sirius' mattress,

"Thanks, but I already ate."

Regulus' brows furrowed.

So he wasn't here for Sirius or food? Those were the only two things he'd ever swung by for.

"Did you... Did you want me to leave?" He asked, unsure of himself.

Potter looked up, blinking in surprise, "Why would I ask you to leave your own flat?"

Regulus shrugged, "I don't know, we've never really spoken before and Sirius isn't here, so..."

"I know he isn't here." He replied, "I came here to see you."

Regulus was pretty sure if brains could stutter: his was.

Potter laughed at his dumbfounded expression,

"I told Padfoot I would try to get to know you a little better. He wants us to get along."

"We get along." Regulus protested.

Potter stared doubtfully at him.

In truth, most of the few conversations they had were arguments, particularly about Regulus not wanting to take Potter's hand outs.

He was otherwise usually set in his ways about ignoring him, Regulus heard Potter tell Sirius once that he was surprised someone could show so little emotion all the time.

Which is probably why Potter looked so amused now, staring at the blatant shock on his face. He'd never been caught so thoroughly off guard before.

"Right." He nodded, looking away.

He schooled his normal mannerisms back into place.

So what if Potter wanted to hang out with him? That shouldn't be that earth shattering. He didn't even care.

"Don't do that." Potter said suddenly.

Regulus looked back at him, eyebrow raised, "Don't do what, Potter?

"Don't shut me out. I saw it, you were opening up to me just a second ago."

And there it was, Regulus was floored again.

"What do you want from me?" He asked.

It was the only question that could make it through the spinning in his mind.

Surely Potter wasn't honestly trying to be his friend?

"Is it really hard to believe that I just enjoy your company?" Potter asked.

Regulus snorted, filling a cup with tap water and ignoring the bitter metallic taste when he drank from it,

"Yeah, actually, it is."

"How can I prove it to you?" His voice dropped a little, like he was sharing a secret.

Regulus felt his stomach twist,

"What?" He whispered, unintentionally dropping his voice as well, sharing in this strange secret between the two of them.

Potter stood from the mattress, walking over to their small kitchen with a determined look in his eyes, the same kind of determination Regulus saw whenever he made a bet he knew he could win,

"How can I prove to you that I enjoy your company?"

"I'm not a game, Potter." Regulus' sharp tone was back, "I'm not something for you to toy with because you're bored."

"This isn't a game to me." Potter's voice was earnest, the most genuine Regulus had ever heard it.

Potter, the man who walked around with a joke always on the tip of his tongue.

The man who called him 'Reggie' because he knew how much he hated it.

The man who's spent every minute of the time they'd known each other making Regulus' life as difficult as possible.

And yet here he was, so much honesty in his eyes, so much emotion in his voice, telling Regulus he wanted to be friends with him.

"You're serious?" He asked.

It was a test, he knew neither of them could resist the 'Sirius' joke.

Potter held his gaze, warm brown to cutting silver,

"Yes."

And suddenly Regulus couldn't breathe.

[enigmalea]

Actually, I don't think it's militarism at all. I think it's something slightly more insidious actually.

The Rainer/Blackwall story line never sat well with me. First, it's unclear whether Thom actually knew innocent civilians (women and children) were in the carriage when he gave the orders. There's some dialogues that suggest he's aware, some that he is not.

Either way, his MEN were aware. They could have not gone through with it. "I was just following orders" has not been an acceptable excuse for war crimes in the real world since World War II. I know this is Dragon Age and supposedly it doesn't follow our modern morals, except that... it does. In lots of other ways.

And further, if Blackwall DIDN'T know, then he couldn't have stopped his soldiers. His soldiers should have been smart enough to just... not kill unarmed women and children. Right?

But regardless, we end up with this LEADER - a warrior - being a good guy and being forgiven for having his men kill a few innocents, even though it was arguably NOT for the greater good. And he redeems himself by absolving them of the actual murders and taking ALL the punishment himself.

Meanwhile, Solas... who was a soldier... in a war... is ordered by his leader (Mythal) to create a dagger that can be used to severe a being from its mind/dreams, and the dagger is used... and the narrative places the blame 100% on the soldier. Not on Mythal who gave the orders. Not on the Evanuris who started the war. It is SOLAS' fault. He should have said no. Because "I was just following orders" isn't an excuse. Or at least, not an excuse for Solas.

In the same way, after 10 years of begging for peaceful solutions, Anders using an explosion to stop the Final Solution to the Mage Problem (literally named after the Nazi plan for the Holocaust, if you're not aware), is framed as a bad thing. It's HIS fault that this happened. He shouldn't have killed those innocent people (which were retconned to be a lot more than implied in the game originally).

And what to Anders and Solas have in common? They are mages.

Essentially, David Gaider created an in world religion that persecuted mages. It treated them as power hungry and dangerous. Something to always be leashed and never trusted or given agency.

And the narrative, time and time again reinforces this idea. Mage following orders = bad and beyond redemption. Mage fighting back = bad and beyond redemption. Warrior Ordering Men to Kill Innocents = good if he tries hard enough.

I don't want to blame this all on Epler, but it does feel like to some extent that Epler bought into the prejudices of the Chantry, and continued to reinforce the ideas the mages will always be power hungry (the entire story of the Evanuris just reinforces this, really).

It's also not lost on me that Solas is an elf, and that Epler's character Bellara struggles quite loudly and verbally with the "original sin" of the Evanuris and constantly tries to take responsibility for their evil. As if elves are always just evil. Nothing that Rook or the other companions do to try to ease her distress really works. And it's almost as if her anxiety is subtly trying to excuse the poor treatment of elves. "Well, maybe they deserve it because the Evanuris are evil."

Any way, IDK how much of this is intentional or the devs just not thinking things through fully, but there is definitely an anti-mage and anti-elf bias that you can see in the comparison of these storylines and the treatment of these characters.

genuinely curious how the writers and larger dragon age audience would treat thom rainier if instead of being appropriately* repentant and putting himself in prison he blew up a major orlesian government building to instigate a chevalier rebellion or tried to have someone do some necromantic blood magic ritual involving uncertain danger and possible sacrifices to bring the innocent children he ordered killed back to life

[boringsickness]

Bernard feeling jealous but completely unable to express it because he's being raised in a house of neglect. He's so used to speak and not being heard that at some point he simply stopped.

Cue the cult, his relationship with Tim and his jealousy.

It's not often and he's definitely not jealous of Steph or any other Tim's exes or close friends.

It happens sometimes though, when people make a comment too much about Tim and Kon or they joke way more than necessary about sex with his exes.

But Bernard says nothing. Never.

He just gets this vagant look in his eyes and his nails slowly start to cut his palms because of his hands being closed into tight fists. And if the fists are too obvious ("too much a cry for attention" as his father would say) he'd cover his hands and drag his nails on his thighs. Red marks all over his skin, the scratching of something on fabric loud but still not enough to let them stop talking.

And if the sound or the scratching was heard or seen, he could always smile it off and go out of his way to step aside. To leave the comments behind and find something to eat or drink, to dampen down this stupid feeling and the bile fighting its way up his throat.

Thank god, Tim is observant and thank god some of his brothers are not cruel.

Because Tim always takes him from the wrist, letting his hands relax slowly and pulling his wounded palms to his lips. Soft mouth kissing away the hurt, eyes searching for something into Bernard's until Bernard can nod backs. Body not rigid anymore.

Surprisingly, when he's around, Jason is a good help too. Nudging his shoulder hard enough to startle him but not so much to completely bodyslam him. Just the necessary to let Bernard think about something that wasn't his boyfriend being seen with someone else better. He never said anything to Jason, Jason definitely didn't either, but he offered a shy smile. A silent thank you.

What was even funnier, in an ironic way, was Bruce patting his shoulder as to say 'theyre idiots, good luck. Ik you can handle it' and Kon in all his glory laughing and shaking his head if he was present.

"they don't know what they're talking about. No one will ever look at someone with as much love as Tim has for you and you for him. You were made for each other. Two halves of the same deranged freak."

And weirdly enough, it helped. They all did in their methods.

Especially Tim's way of kissing him harder when alone, of tracing his body with fingers and tongue and lips and whispering nonsense on his skin.

Bernard always told him that he didn't need to, it was okay. It was funny. Ah ah, they were just jokes.

But Tim never bought it, when it happened, and he always gave him a bit more attention. A bit more of himself completely bare and vulnerable and real, making Bernard fall even more in love.

Of course, Bernard made sure to do so too. To shower him in as much love and care.

They were complicated and silly and freaks and a tad ridiculous but they worked. Now Bernard only needed to speak freely about his jealousy without leaving visible traces on his body. (But Tim was as much as a mess as him so it was mostly okay. They'd work at it, like always. They had time. All their lives, specifically)

[lucidheart3]

Part Two of my Movie SonAmy Headcanons!

-The first time Amy hugs him, Sonic is like “Were we allowed to do that?” because there are feelings involved for him on top of the fact that it took him a long time to get used to hugs(as we’ve seen in the beginning of sonic2 when he offered to fist bump instead of hugging Maddie and Tom). After a while though he isn’t so reluctant to hug her back/ initiate the hug.

-Complimenting normally isn’t a competition. But it is for this two idiots. They always try to one up each other. Usually Sonic is the one to throw in a compliment first then get flustered about it later, because that boy’s words don’t pass through his brain before he says them. For Amy, she gets flustered, she gets angry that Sonic embrassed her, she takes her revenge by complimenting him better as if that’s a thing (it is now).

-They both talk too much. One day Sonic made the mistake of yapping for hours with her on the phone near a sleep deprived Tails who was working on an invention. No one has ever seen Tails that furious at Sonic and probaby won’t ever.

-They play with each other’s quills. Sonic is amazed how fluffy and soft her quills are, and Amy helps him manage his better.

-Amy loves painting, unfortunately for her Sonic also loves painting. (Read: drawing those spiky small creatures, one pink and one blue, that he calls hedgehogs all over her canvas, accompanied by hearts. She can’t decide if he is that romantic or just trying to tease her.)

-Sonic and Amy loooove to gossip, even though Sonic denies ever doing that. They (he) first start with family members, Sonic telling her every single thing like how Tom talks to Donuts and Knuckles turned the living room into a gladiator pit. Then they branch out to the town lol.Like who bought that house on the end of street or the ladies who have an argument whenever they cross paths.

-Amy is a bit uncomfortable when Maddie examines her so Sonic always offers to go first whenever Maddie decides to check up on every kid.

-Amy loves romance movies, Sonic doesn’t.Despite forcing himself to stay awake through the movie he always dozes off, and Amy decides to watch only the best ones with him to spare him.

-Sonic occasionaly brings her flowers but stops after she tells him she loves them more when they are alive. He admires her love for nature, and she appreciates his gesture, even more so when he respects her opinion and stops right away.

- Sonic calls her Rosy, especially when she blushes because of her rosy cheeks.

-Amy finds her catchphrase “Have no fear Amy Rose is here” after she learns that he has one, and she looooves the idea.

- Amy reminds Sonic of sunflowers, and Sonic reminds Amy of dandelions.

- They have no idea how to flirt even though everyone says they already do.

-When Sonic talks non-stop with his family and Amy, he sometimes gets self-conscious because of way she intently listens to him, nodding at his every word. He always stops talking abruptly and averts his gaze whenever this happens, then only continuate when someone reminds him he has been talking

- Amy teaches Sonic that waiting and taking things slow to see every little detail is good sometimes, and Sonic shows her the thrill of living fast.

This is all for now! Let me know if you’d like to see more!

[eggcompany]

Strength, Trust, and Muzzles Part 1

Viktor would never be the "omega" in their relationship. He was too... Everything a alpha should be. Confident, knowing, dominate, protective. Viktor was a perfect alpha. But so was Jayce. But Jayce was always willing to be under Viktor, to submit. He just didn't know he'd be so nervous to get bitched down.

Alpha/Alpha with some BDSM elements.

Jayce was never going to make Viktor his omega. Sure sometimes he topped, sometimes he nipped at the back of his neck, and yes sometimes he got knotheaded and begged to put a baby in the other man. 

But Viktor would never be his omega. Viktor would never be under Jayce, never submit to him. 

Jayce was however resigned to the fact that when they did mate, for the first real time, both in rut, he wouldn’t be the one getting bitched down. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be under Viktor, he loved being under Viktor, loved getting fucked with his perfect hard as nails cock, letting it reached deep inside him and rub against his prostate until he cried, but he was nervous. 

Nervous because he was a knothead who got dick dumb every time he was in rut. He got the head rush that Viktor never did. Viktor was always so level headed in his ruts, thoughtful and in full control. Jayce wasn't in control, he was a slave to his instincts. He was nervous he’d turn it around on Viktor by accident, end up ruining it, making the bond unstable or worse, not set at all. 

Viktor was calmed down in his soul, calm and relaxed, as he took his inducers. He would fall into rut a day after Jayce. He was calm because he was finally ready to mate with Jayce, after three years, they would finally seal the deal. 

He had all the supplies he needed. The workers at the sex shop knew him well after his many trios. He had his bondage mittens, to keep Jayce’s hands to himself because he was always so handsy. And a spreader bar, the strongest one he could find, and a full set of dildos, from thin small ones to one that was only slightly smaller than himself, a full set of five. The handcuffs he had weren’t from the sex shop, they were real and bought from someone Viktor knew as a much younger man. 

He felt calm and confident as he fell asleep next to Jayce, his soon-to-be mate smelled spicy and rich like grilled seasoned meat and smoke. Tomorrow he’d be in full rut, probably wake up with a knot in his pants. 

Jayce was out of his mind. How did he ever think getting bitched down would ever be a good idea. He woke up warm and hard, cozy in bed ready to fuck whatever Viktor offered, his ass, his mouth, his hand, the fleshlight tucked between his thighs, whatever it didn’t matter as long as Viktor was right th-

“Vik?” Jayce called out when he noticed he was alone in their bed. It was cold and empty where his mate should be. Jayce got up and yawned as he made his way to the doorway. He was hot. Too hot. His dick hurt where it hung heavy between his legs. 

“Viktor? Baby where’d you go?” Jayce asked into the empty space of their apartment. He looked around, the sun was coasting through the gauzy curtains that covered all the windows from onlookers. Viktor loved those, they let the sun in but kept people from snapping pictures through the glass. 

Jayce shook his head, getting out of his thoughts as he heard something in the kitchen. 

Viktor. Jayce watched him, dressed in his loose boxers and borrowed tshirt, looking beautiful and frumpy. His hair was a mess, his soft brace on his leg as he used his cane to move around the kitchen. 

“You’re beautiful” Jayce said as he watched Viktor stir a pot of oatmeal. Simple and warm. Viktor turned around, pink cheeked and a heat roaring behind his eyes. 

“On your knees beside my chair. Get a cushion from the couch.” Viktor said voice dug deeper, commanding yet cool and even. Jayce’s cock twitched, jumping as he moved to the couch grabbing one of the square pillows there. 

Viktor settled himself into his dining room chair, a big bowl of oatmeal in front of him, cinnamon puffed on the top. 

Viktor ignored as Jayce knelt down beside him, hugging into his leg, rubbing his forehead over his bare thigh. Jayce loved Viktor, he smelled so good, rich and manly, nice and hot. Jayce was content to sit there and smell Viktor to run his hands up and down his legs, petting the dark hair there. 

Viktor looked at Jayce, his blown dark eyes, his sleep messed hair, his body heavy and relaxed even as his cock laid ignored and heavy. 

He took a handful of his hair and pulled back, making Jayce’s head fallback easily. Jayce gasped and looked up at him. 

“Open.” Viktor ordered and Jayce opened his mouth with a smile, tongue peaking past his teeth. Viktor fed him, making sure the spoon didn’t hit his teeth. Jayce hummed and kept his head up, as he rested against his thigh. 

Soon the bowl was empty and they were both full, ready for the day. Jayce’s hips were swaying, cock smearing precum across Viktor’s ankle and the pillow below. 

“We’re taking it easy today, Jayce, tomorrow is going to be very difficult on you. Your body, your mind.” Viktor said as he ran his hand through his boyfriend's hair, massaging as he went, nails dragging on his scalp. 

Jayce smiled and nodded, kneeling up to kiss Viktor’s palm down to his wrist, right over his scent gland, sucking on it lightly, getting a hit of Viktor’s rich smell. 

“Go make a spot on the couch. I need to clean up and take my medicine. I'll come suck you off when I’m done.” Viktor instructed leaning down to whisper the last sentence close to Jayce’s face before kissing him. Jayce moaned into the kiss rising up on his knees, pushing to be closer to his mate. 

“I love you” Jayce said as he pulled back breathless. He loved kissing Viktor. Loved everything Viktor did. Loved him so much. 

“I know. Go put on a show for us and I’ll be there in a moment.” Viktor said and patted Jayce’s cheek, his hands were cold against his blush hot cheek. Jayce nodded and got up, legs wobbly as his cock cried to be touched. Patience. 

He got to the couch and had to push down the urge to tear into the fabric, instead he fanned out their throw blankets the four different fabrics making him happy as he laid them all out making a spot for Viktor, pillows in just the right spot to support his joints. 

He sat beside the couch, cross cross on the floor as he picked a movie Viktor liked, dinosaurs Viktor liked dinosaur movies. He absentmindedly petted at his cock, a few squeezes around the base, smearing the precum down, rubbing his thumb lightly over the frenulum. It felt good, not enough to cum, but good. 

“Do you want a handjob? Alpha can jerk you off if you want baby.” Viktor asked as he came into the room, settled into his place on the couch. 

Jayce thought about it, Viktor gave good head, perfect suction and that talented tongue but he only took in the tip. Viktor’s handjobs however… both hands on his cock and he always talked, that’s what got Jayce closer than anything else, Viktor talking to him. 

“Handjob.” Jayce said and crawled up onto the couch, flopping back onto Viktor’s chest, his brace was stiff and cold under the thin fabric of his t-shirt, pressing into Jayce’s back as he reached around his body. 

“You’re so heavy. You’re already close huh? Yes, look at this drippy thing.” Viktor said voice quiet as he reached around Jayce’s body to wrap a hand around his cock, his other one drifting down to fondle at his hefty balls. 

Jayce groaned and relaxed, leaning back to let Viktor take his weight. He moaned as Viktor gave his sack a squeeze as his other hand twisted around the tip of his cock. Viktor started a tight but slow pace, second hand going to pet over his stomach up to his chest. 

“Beautiful. My beautiful mate. So pretty. Cum for me, Jayce, let it out.” Viktor encouraged as a hand came up and gave one of his pecs a squeeze, the muscle giving up easily. Jayce whined and bucked up into his hand, hips jumping as he chased his orgasm. Viktor sped his hand up, his other hand coming down to roll over the tip. 

“Show Alpha that you can cum, messy boy, come on.” Viktor said, lips right on Jayce’s ear, voice light and teasing. Jayce moaned, a deep noise coming from his chest as his hands wrapped around Viktor’s legs where they were on either side of him. He thrusted a few more times as Viktor’s voice floated through his head, the words lost but the feeling was there. 

Jayce groaned as he came, hips twitching. Viktor’s hand came down to squeeze the base, right over the slight swell of his knot, the other coming his tip, making his cum splash back down onto him. Jayce whined, looking down at himself as buckets of cum came rushing back down onto his shaft, puddling on his hips and belly. 

“So good, good boy. That was so good. Let’s get all this cleaned up and you can lay on me. Sound good?” Viktor said as he let his clean hand run up and down Jayce’s stomach, calming him as he caught his breath. 

Jayce breathed in Viktor’s smell, nothing else existed around him except Viktor. He just felt foggy in his head, eyes watching as Viktor’s hands, perfect strong yet thin hands, came back to his still hard cock with tissues from the side table. He couldn’t feel as they cleaned him up, his knot only a quarter popped but enough he didn’t feel as the dry tissue rubbed across his tip. 

“I love you, Vik.” Jayce said as he moved a bit, sitting up enough Viktor could get a full breath. He felt the dumb heft getting heavier in his brain. He felt like his thoughts were floating away, the heat in his belly, his hunger for Viktor, it was the only thing he could focus on. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re doing so well.” Viktor praised as he sat up himself, just enough to wipe his hand on his shirt before pulling it up and off. Jayce liked skin to skin, so when they settled back onto the couch, he purred happily, laying lax as Viktor played with his chest hair, occasionally giving his soft pecs a grope, pinching a nipple teasingly every so often.

By the time late lunch arrived, neither of them wanted to get up. Jayce was laying face down, head resting on Viktor’s chest, watching the show on the TV absently as Viktor ran his fingers through his hair with one hand, phone in the other. Viktor ordered food, cringing at the fees applied. 

When it arrived, popcorn chicken and mashed potatoes and a few biscuits. Jayce liked that food when he was in rut. Jayce was knelt down on the floor again, eating from Viktor’s fingers until he was finished. They settled back in for the show again, this time Jayce was sitting down on the floor with Viktor’s legs hanging over his shoulders, massaging his feet. 

Dinner was a more difficult time. Viktor was feeling his own rut start creeping through him. He wanted meat, he wanted Jayce in his lap, he wanted to sink his teeth into the beautiful crest of Jayce’s ass, to mark him. They could barely get to the dinning table without pulling at each other, lips sealed, tongues tangling together. But eventually Viktor gets Jayce sat down in a chair, hand on his cock. 

“Just order something, use my card, I’ll eat anything you give me, I don’t care. I wanna get you in bed, wanna put a baby in you.” Jayce said, voice rolling as he looked at Vik, hand stroking himself quickly, eyes big and dopey. He laid his head down against the table, eyes staying locked on Viktor as he leaned back against the sink, staring back. Jayce couldn’t tear his eyes away, dotted pale skin covered by his braces and his small white briefs. He wanted to mark him up, roll him over, and fuck him till he was calm and bred up. 

“You have to wait till I’ve- I’ve eaten. Then we can go… handle it. And bath. And then sleep because tomorrow when I start, I won’t stop.” Viktor said, his put together facade crumbling a little. He was in full control of himself, knowing exactly what he wanted and what needed to happen, but he was still just an alpha with wants. He wanted to get started right at that moment, but Jayce needed to be well rested and he himself needed to be in full rut. A bitching would take them both out of rut once completed, so they both needed to be in full season. 

“Fu-uck, please?” Jayce begged as he got closer, one hand wrapping around his swelling knot as the other kept working his shaft. It would be one of his last orgasms of this rut, Viktor thought he should enjoy it. Jayce groaned as he came, shivering as he ruined the underside of their dining table. 

Viktor pulled his phone out, taking a moment to snap a photo, just to save for later, print out and put in their shoebox perhaps, before ordering more food. Not just hot food but snacks and treats for later. Some things that would soothe Jayce in his state. And some sleep aid. 

Jayce was panting, squeezing his knot as his eyes closed. Viktor came up to him, rubbing his back, hand petting over his spine. 

“So pretty. Get under there and lick it up.” Viktor said, the worth like filth flowing easily off his tongue. Jayce gasped and tensed for a second before looking up at his mate, searching to see if he was serious. Viktor stared down at him, testing him, seeing how far he’d listen while dumb in rut. 

Jayce slipped onto his knees from the chair, eyes stuck on Viktor as he got under the table. When he finally looked away, towards the mess he’d created, he turned white. There was so much. And it smelled like alpha cum, making him a little nauseous. He opened his mouth though, because Viktor wanted him too, and went to lick the dusty unfinished wood but Viktor snapped his fingers. 

“Such an obedient thing. Good boy.” Viktor said, voice deep, heavy with lust as he stopped Jayce. The younger alpha watched as he got a kitchen towel and wetted it in the sink, handing it to him, damp and warm. Jayce looked between his mate and the towel, and up at his mess before Viktor bent down, leaning heavily on his cane as he met Jayce’s eyes. 

“Clean it with the towel. You don’t need to lick it up.” Viktor said, smiling at his boyfriend as his mind slowly processed the words. 

“I love you, Viktor” Jayce said with a dopey smile as he started to clean away the thick cum. 

“I love you too. I love you so much, Jayce.” Viktor said, the words so easy to say as he thought about how good the next day would be. How receptive Jayce was going to be. How Jayce would be so beautiful with his bite mark. 

The night settled with Jayce knotting his fleshlight, tucked between Viktor’s legs, dopey and warm. Viktor watched as he slept, tucking a few stray hairs back into place, enjoying the calm rolling heat that was settling into his gut. He’d be in full rut tomorrow, ready to make Jayce his. Forever. 

Next Chapter >

[damn-stark]

Dae-ho tic where him and reader always sabotage each others relationships/talking stages with other people because they want each other but are afraid to say it

4 attempts

Kang Dae-ho (player 388) x fem!reader

A/N- I giggled writing this!

Warning- Angst and fluff!!

————

1st attempt-

This first sabotage was as simple as breathing. Maybe Dae-ho is being cocky, or your possible boyfriend was insecure, but it truly was a simple task. Dae-ho happened to catch that you were going to hang out at your house and he came stumbling by at your door.

“Dae-ho,” you stammer with surprise as you see him outside your door.

Said man smiles his charming smile and holds your gaze. “Hey, sorry for not calling beforehand but I was in the neighborhood and I had this,” he says as he shows off one of your favorite desserts, replacing your annoyance with temptation.

“You’re not going out right?” He follows his comment with a question he knows the answer to.

“No, but I have someone over. A date. Potential boyfriend,” you reveal, but it doesn’t bring him any surprise, he pretends to be shocked but he knows that too.

“Well I am your best friend,” he points out. “I need to meet him anyway. What harm can it bring?”

You contemplate his comment and also glance at the bag in his hand as if that delicious dessert is what is winning you over, but the truth is a part of you is relieved he’s here, interrupting this moment. You don’t let yourself accept that but you are and that part of yourself that is steps back to open the door wider so he may walk in.

When you close the door behind him your date interjects with a question as he walks over. “Who was it?”

When he makes it to the entrance of the house he comes to a sudden halt and straightens up as he sees Dae-ho at your side with a small smile that was too smug rather than friendly.

“Kang Dae-ho, her best friend,” he introduces himself and then gets closer to your date to offer him his hand.

Your date glances at his hand with his breath caught in his throat and then looks over at you with uncertainty before drawing out a deep breath and taking Dae-ho’s hand without meeting his eye.

“I am sorry for intruding,” Dae-ho doesn’t fail to be respectful as he makes himself at home right away and walks to the dining table to set his stuff down. “But I was in the neighborhood and bought some of her favorite dessert and well what friend would I be if I didn’t share?” Dae-ho says as you quickly join him while your date follows behind slowly, catching your eagerness that you failed to show him.

“However, I am sorry that I didn’t bring you any. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” your date quickly assures him as he finally reaches the table.

Dae-ho flashes him a faint smile before he reaches in the bag and pulls out a small box and napkin and hands it to you. He doesn’t finish there though, he pulls out a drink kept inside the bag and as if expecting it, you take it without so much as looking, letting your date know for certain what he needs to do.

So by morning, just as Dae-ho wanted, your date cut all communication with you with a blunt text.

——

2nd attempt-

Failing is hardly something you did. Sure you do fail from time to time, you are only human, but it’s not something you let slide often, but today…today was one of those days. You failed horribly.

“You’re his best friend, you know him more than anyone could so tell me honestly what he's like,” Dae-ho’s date tries to interrogate you out of genuine curiosity. With no ill intent. You recognize that with the way she carries herself, the way she acts, and the way she looks at him with genuine interest and affection. Maybe that’s what makes you fail or maybe it’s what she says next

”I really like him,” she says. “I just want to know if I'm wasting my time and getting my hopes up to later get them crushed.”

Your stomach twists and irritation rushes through your veins. You don’t even take time to question yourself if you want to shatter her feelings and stomp on her illusions, that irritation takes over before you know it.

“He may be my friend but,” you pause and take a step closer to her. “I have to be honest because no one else will,” you speak with a honey-laced voice. “He’s not particularly loyal. It may seem like that now but in a couple weeks he will be texting other girls. It happened last time.”

The girl’s lashes bat as she deals with the disappoint you just hit her with and steps away as she ducks her head.

“If only I warned you before you came,” you say as you reach over and pat her hand. “Just don’t tell him I told you so.”

You finish with a sweet smile and stroke her hand before you walk out a bit too overzealous, but how could you not be?

You might have failed at containing your…burning feelings, but what you told Dae-ho’s date worked because by the next day she asked him out for coffee and ended things with him.

——

3rd attempt-

Maybe it’s the men you date, or maybe men in particular happen to be more jealous than women but don’t dare to admit it. Or maybe, just maybe, it was Dae-ho stepping over the line. Again.

Whether he meant to or not it didn’t matter. You were at the concert of your favorite artist and Dae-ho happened to be there too. It was on purpose, he happened to like that artist too so why would he miss it?

Now you were at two separate sides of the stadium, but when it came down to it, when you were drunk off the excitement, Dae-ho made his way to you and there was no stopping either of you now.

You both sang at the top of your lungs, jumped, and danced like no one was watching when someone was. Your boyfriend. He was next to you, but with Dae-ho there and stepping over the line, singing with you, and dancing too close for comfort, it’s like your boyfriend didn’t exist. He didn’t even feel like a third wheel because he felt invisible.

Or you just didn’t care about him when it came to Dae-ho. Maybe Dae-ho is all you need. He’s all you care about—no, he’s the one person you care about most in this world so no one else can even be at his level.

It was easy to see, and it was even more obvious that Dae-ho recuperated those feelings with the way he looked at you so affectionately and beamed at you so brightly. He laughs at the little things you say and can never keep his eyes off you; it’s like he’s making sure nothing or no one causes you any harm.

He may be charming and look like he could not harm a fly, but anyone could see how protective Dae-ho was without having to even bare his teeth.

Yet that’s not what sent your boyfriend fleeing, it was a smaller fact. A gesture that could mean nothing but can also mean the world. You shared a drink. You had finished yours so Dae-ho said you could drink from his cup, and that’s what hurt your boyfriend the most because he looked down at his own cup and it was still halfway full, making it just enough to share with you, but you didn’t even look his way. Not even to ask to buy some more, so when he could, he broke up with you, giving Dae-ho a win.

——

Last attempt-

If things were simple you would be able to accept your feelings. You would be happy with the person you think about the most. The one person you love more than life itself, but here you are, with makeup running down your cheeks in a restaurant after a man you hardly liked confessed to cheating on you.

Maybe you should’ve expected it. It’s karma after what you’ve done to sabotage Dae-ho’s relationship, but it didn’t stop it from hurting.

As to why your boyfriend told you in a restaurant of all places? You don’t know, but it made it worse; knowing all the people are staring, and listening in to the drama that unfolded before them.

Yet your embarrassment is not what sends you fleeing. You could have walked out when you were collected and no longer had makeup staining your cheeks, but you can’t handle the pain, you can’t contain the ball of emotions that keeps growing and makes your throat and eyes burn, so you swiftly grab all your belongings and storm out of the restaurant. In doing so, on your way out, you bump into none other than your best friend Dae-ho.

At first, he didn’t recognize you, but it does hit him once you’re out the door that it was you. So with a quick dismissive comment over his shoulder to his date, he runs after you.

Dae-ho calls out to you as you storm away with your arms wrapped around your body to keep as much warmth as possible on this winter night, but you don’t stop, so without so much as thinking about his date, he runs after you to catch up. Once he’s close enough he grabs your shoulder before you can take another step and turns you around.

When you look him in the eye and realize it’s not your boyfriend but Dae-ho, you break down into a sob. “Dae-ho,” you mewl.

Said man looks at you like he’s been wounded and grabs your shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He quickly bombards you with questions.

You sniffle and part your lips. “My boyfriend, he—he.” You can’t even finish what you’re going to say because of how choked up you get, and he doesn’t wait or pester you to finish. He immediately wraps his arms around you and hugs you against him, basking you in his warmth and comfort.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he tries to soothe you as he rubs your back. “You’re going to be okay.”

You let out another shaky sob and grip onto him so he wouldn’t let go. Neither of you proceed to utter a thing, you stand under the falling snow and let the bitterness nip at any exposed skin it can reach.

It’s only once your shoulders stop shaking and Dae-ho’s date is long gone after being forgotten, that you pull away, but he doesn’t let you stray far, he cups your jaw and holds your gaze with tenderness.

“He cheated on me,” you whisper hoarsely, making him sigh with pity.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he strokes your cheeks with the tip of his cold fingers. “He’s an asshole.”

You nod gently and sniffle again. “I don’t even know why I dated him. I didn’t even like him, but I thought maybe…just maybe it would help.”

Dae-ho blinks with confusion and he quickly he follows up on your question. “Help what?”

You avert your gaze and sniffle. Your pause lasts for a moment. It’s only when his hand falls on your shoulder and the other falls at his side that you speak up.

“Forget my feelings for you.”

A cloud of Dae-ho’s breath forms in the space past his lips as he can’t help but gasp.

“I went into that relationship knowing what I felt, but I also know that you don’t feel the same and I can’t possibly live with that so I had to forget, but he…” you trail off and slowly lift your gaze, meeting his bewildered eyes.

“Who,” he stammers and you lose all contact with him as he pulls his hand off your shoulder. “Why…why would you think I don’t have the same feeling you do? I love you,” he admits, stealing your breath and making you feel as if you’re out of this world.

“All this time,” he adds as he watches you work through your disbelief. “I was just…scared that it would ruin us. If I had known—all those dates I’ve been on…” he trails off and grabs your shoulders so you can look him in the eyes as he then continues firmly. “…If it’s true that you feel what I do, tell me and I will stop wasting my time with nobodies.”

You blink in disbelief and your lips part because of the same feelings.

It’s hard to process the fact that he shares the same love you have for him, but that fear of letting him know no longer exists. You’re just hesitant because you’re still caught in disbelief.

“I…I do,” you confess slowly, making him beam at you before he presses his forehead against yours.

“I was going to kiss you, but I think it would be wrong considering…” he doesn’t finish saying but you know he’s referring to your situation.

“Hm,” you hum and grab his face this time to press a light kiss on his lips. “For warmth.” You giggle.

He can’t stop smiling. His smile brightens as he keeps you close with the intention to not let you stray from him anymore.

[vaquelin]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“You’re moving out,”

Alhaitham repeated slowly, trying to process the information, “because you don’t like the flower I bought?”

“It’s not only about the flower!” Kaveh exclaimed and fell on the couch.

He hid his face in hands not to look at the crimson monstrosity in front of him. No, he didn’t want Alhaitham to look at him going out of his mind. To be honest, he wasn’t convinced of his decision for one minute straight. The flower was driving him crazy and after long hours in the darkness of his room he eventually discovered a real reason for that but it still didn’t feel enough to think about moving out. He had to admit that he got used to this place and Alhaitham’s presence. After nearly two years of living together, they knew each other's schedules and preferences by heart. They weren’t just housemates anymore; they had begun to understand each other.

“I doubt that anyone still follows your trace of thoughts.” Alhaitham sat on the edge of the couch.

His reaction caught Kaveh off guard. The Scribe was being careful, almost delicate—like it was too early for his usual sarcasm to take over. Kaveh expected him to laugh at the idea of moving out and even encourage him, just for the sake of another quarrel between them. And, Archons believe, he got pretty scared when Alhaitham started acting all serious about that. Kaveh had expected Alhaitham to dismiss the idea with rational arguments—not to take him seriously! Kaveh assumed that Alhaitham just pitied him and somehow that was even worse than mocking. But the true reason of his sudden decision was ridiculous. He didn’t want to admit it but why was it bothering him so much?

There was no use in further hiding the truth from Alhaitham.

“It’s about me! I’m the flower! I don’t fit into your turquoise-and-beige interior—like an odd puzzle piece that doesn’t belong. Like that yellow pot in the hallway painting! Like that random shoelace we can’t match to any shoes! What am I even saying!?” The nonsense just kept falling from his mouth.

Alhaitham had to silence him, before he embarrassed himself totally.

“That is true, your colour scheme do not match with the palette of this house. You wear red and everything around is blue or green. But let me assure you, Mr. Architect, no one besides you cares about that,” he sounded just so out of his character.

Kaveh could get used to this polite and caring side of Alhaitham, although it was confusing him at first.

“What?”

“Red and green just remind me of roses in full bloom. And honestly, I couldn’t care less if things are supposed to match or not.”

“Really? You don’t mind that I… that is, this flower… That it does not belong here?”

Alhaitham frowned. His expression became somehow even more serious, so that Kaveh felt the meaning of his words down in his soul. “I invited it to my house, so it does belong here.”

Now he felt stupid. How could he let his insecurity skew the image of Alhaitham, always rational Scribe, who never gets carried away. He was like a bucket of cold water when Kaveh was a wildfire of complex emotions. At the same time, Kaveh could be the gentle blow that keeps Alhaitham’s match on fire, so that he never burns out. They completed each other, whether they admitted it or not. But what if Kaveh’s fire burned too bright?

“Still I… Where are you going?”

Alhaitham left the living room and came back after few minutes with two glasses and a bottle of wine. At first the Architect thought that it had to be a dream.

“The wine is red, it should not fit in this interior, but you shall agree with me that this is the item that works just fine in the current situation.”

“It’s hard to deny your logic,” concurred Kaveh, taking the glass.

The next hour they spent drinking and talking, just like if they were again students in Akademiya.

“I think I worry that much because I quite adore your intelligence,” casually mentioned Kaveh.

He then took another sip of wine, missing the way Alhaitham stiffened beside him. A sudden silence set in. After a while the Architect looked up concerned to discover that his friend was as red as the ugly flower.

“What- What happened?”

He was sure he didn’t say anything inappropriate. Nothing that could cause such a reaction. Alhaitham however seemed as if Kaveh at least proposed to him.

“Y-you… Did you just say that you… adore me?” he sounded so genuinely scared that the Architect barely kept himself from laughing.

He was staring at Alhaitham, trying to find a sign that the Scribe is just joking but he couldn’t find any. For a second his brain influenced by the wine, told him to play along and see how this would end. But he wasn’t that drunk not to think it was a terrible idea. Instead, he smiled warmly and spoke up without any mischievous intention hidden in his voice.

“Didn’t I say that I adore your intelligence?”

A painful realisation became so obvious on Alhaitham’s handsome face. He closed his eyes, bit his lips and frowned.

“Oh… that’s… that’s correct.”

The blonde casually started smiling, which unintentionally led the Scribe to think he was being mocked. “Wait, you got so flustered because you thought I said that adore you?”

Alhaitham stood up probably to stop Kaveh from staring at him and making him even more embarrassed. “Leave the teasing,” he said from behind the couch.

Kaveh tilted his head back, his blonde hair spilling over as a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“It’s always you who teases me!” he straighten up. ”By the way, that wouldn’t be a lie. I adore you, even though you are sometimes so stubborn and stoic and mean and cold…” he kept counting just to see Alhaitham’s reaction.

The Scribe, to no one’s surprise, remained stoic.

“It seems that you recognise many flaws in me.”

Kaveh smiled. “They are not flaws. Those are the features that make it hard for me to understand you. But they are not your flaws. You have different ones.”

“Would you care to give an example?”

The Architect pretended to wonder.

“Insensitiveness,” he said after a while.

“Insensitiveness? People say you are oversensitive.”

Kaveh wasn’t expecting that comeback—but he wasn’t about to back down.

”Oh, so it cuts both ways? Very well, you are… apathetic,” he said proudly.

The Scribe’s corners of the lips lifted a bit. Oh, they loved arguing. It was their own language that only they could understand.

“In that case, I must claim that you are too passionate.”

“Too closed,” Kaveh snapped back.

“So open, that you are almost naive.”

The Architect opened his mouth to vocalise a snarky come back, but he got lost in the rhythm.

“Well, you may have a point here,” he conceded that to Alhaitham.

They shared a honest laugh.

“We don’t really fit together,” Kaveh pointed out the obvious.

His fingers tightened around his glass, knuckles paling. It was bothering him for this whole time. Why were they living together? Why did Alhaitham let him stay here if they were so unmatched?

“I must disagree. I see you as my mirror,” the Scribe said.

Kaveh frowned. “A mirror? That’s absurd. We’re nothing alike. Are you drunk already?”

Alhaitham took a sip of wine, unbothered. “You see my flaws so clearly because they reflect your own.”

That was something Kaveh had never thought of before. Could it really be like this? No, that was ridiculous, he couldn’t stand a chance with Alhaitham’s brilliant mind. Even now he seemed to know what Kaveh was thinking.

“What I am trying to say is that your intelligence can also be described as admirable. In other words, you are more clever than you think.” he looked straight into his eyes and this time it was Kaveh who blushed hard. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. It’s the nicest you have been in a while. Thank you.”

The Scribe lifted one eyebrow. “You accepted my compliment? Without any complaints? What happened to your insecurity?”

“Seriously!? Did you have to remind me of it?” Kaveh could not stop laughing.

He almost choked on wine when Alhaitham quickly approached him and placed his hand on the Architect’s pale fingers. His touch was warmer than the blonde would have expected.

“Don’t move out. Please.”

Kaveh swallowed, glancing at the familiar mess of books, the couch indented from too many debates, the table still holding that ridiculous flower. His chest tightened. Could he really imagine leaving? Finally, could he imagine living without Alhaitham?

“…I won’t,” he replied.

Alhaitham then stood up under the pretense of making tea. But before he disappeared in the kitchen, he stopped in the door frame and looked at the flower still standing on the tea table.

“Do you want me to get rid of the plant?”

“No, I love it!” Kaveh said without hesitation.

Alhaitham turned away, just enough to hide the small, involuntary smile that crept onto his lips. “I love it too,” he murmured—only to himself.

“Hmm?” Kaveh didn’t catch what he said.

Alhaitham hesitated. His fingers tapped against the doorframe before he finally spoke.

“…Green tea, then?”

Kaveh smiled, softer this time. “Yeah… you do know me.”

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

all parts on ao3

[silveredlies]

Half truths and lies of omission were where he worked best. To twist something poisoned and corrupt so that it resembled beauty to be offered was a skill all on its own. There was no need for spells to charm of hypnotize save for some here and there when he had the power of words at his fingertips. Gaining desired information, turning others against their closest allies, stirring up battles in times of conflicts, all for his own gain. It was always nice that his hard work was noticed rather than those that bought in to a beautiful lie. Fools only bored him in the end. There were no true games if there was no challenge or perhaps he had simply become jaded in more ways than he thought. As for play acting, "Fior was smart to play along, though I am a little disappointed he knew already. I put quite a bit of effort in to that one. The necromancer boy, though...all it took was a drink. The Deathrunners leave a lot to be desired if they make someone so foolish their Underboss. I felt bad for him, truly."

To be brought into a lie so easily, there had been a touch of guilt when Mathias had left. Just barely, he had certainly done far worse in his long life. But now likely, his games wouldn't work any longer save for perhaps the bottom of the barrel folks. The ones ranked so low that they wouldn't be brought in to conversations of the Blood Witch. A true shame. Seeing the games come to their conclusion was always a bit disappointing but there were things to do before he found out what a deity could do to an insubordinate blood witch.

As he felt the small push towards himself, Corvinus wasted no time pushing back with his own aura of magic. Letting it seep through just slightly, pressing against the naga. But while the other radiated desire, his own was tainted with rage. Not towards Suresh, not right now, but often how his magic displayed itself. It was hatred and spite that allowed him to obtain his powers and still the powerful motivators that kept him going rather than secluding himself in his estate and watching the world fade away through the windows. But he was quick to pull his back and draw the small taste back into himself. They toyed with different weapons. "I think I'll just keep this one. Though it is adorable how keen you are to keep my jacket away. I'm not above self-maiming to get blood I need if pushed." Suresh had seen how quickly he had healed, there was no point pretending as if blood draw wasn't a tedious task. He felt the tail loosely wrap itself around his ankle though he didn't pull away. "Careful now," he gave a soft warning. The touch was fine so long as it didn't descend into violence and fighting again.

Still at the topic of the Nameless leader, Corvinus gave a sigh that was annoyed. As if it was a topic he didn't much care for. His lips pursed, leaning back into the couch with his arms stretched over the top and legs crossing. An image of openness and walls at the same time. His eyes moved to the windows, a long silence as he focused on the scenes down below. Fingers of one hand were tapping, dancing on the couch as though he were trying to come up with the perfect words. "...I'll grant you another trust," he finally spoke and attention rounding back to Suresh, "I said before you were the reason I came here. True in a way, but you weren't the one that initially drew my attention to the city. Just a happy perk." He thought about how far he should go, how careful to be. Whatever story he gave for the Nameless was a truth in a way considering where he was, so was the other. "I've been hunting while exploring the lovely city. The reason you haven't been able to reach the leader is because, well...he hasn't been here."

He'd been traveling, giving orders from afar, while gathering supplies and powers since his binding to the god. And trying to find a way to sever that same bond. "He came in to my country a few months ago. While I don't claim her lands, I ensure that my isles, my homeland, is safe. You wanted to know why I was here, I was drawn out. Forced into a game I had no intention of getting involved in to ensure me and my own are left alone. You want to know why I chose you three over the Nameless? You didn't interrupt my peace of mind. So I provoked, I taunted, all to create more noise to lure out what I wanted. Honestly, you lot did most of the work for me. And once I'm certain this is handled with the meeting, I will return home to my domain and continue my own works." Everything was stated so bluntly with that hint of annoyance on the topic. It was truths....though it was more the deity itself had lured and forced his involvement rather than any Leader in the shadows.

"I imagine he was still rather stuffy, even eighty years ago. Though an improvement over his predecessor." He listened and nodded, the reason why Callum as still alive was the one where their stories matched up the best. He survived simply because the Witch hadn't felt like killing him. But Corvinus' need to gloat was a delightful bit of petty that Suresh could understand. A sly smile breaking across his lips at the dog comment. However Suresh did have a healthy respect for Death, the Goddess and her chosen. Suresh didn't believe anyone, even Corvinus could outrun her indefinitely. Gold ophidian eyes drifted thoughtfully over the Witch's face. It was what he would do. Drop small seeds and hope the roots caused cracks... And the best doubts were plausible ones. Why would Callum lie about the reason behind the fight? What did it matter if he was following the charge of his Goddess? Suresh already knew how unhappy the Lightless Leader would be finding out how this exchange went between the Witch and him tonight.

The sly smile turned into a graciously amused grin, and the Naga shook his head. "Please. Take this as the compliment that it's meant to be. You are one of the most accomplished half-truth speaker I have ever met." Suresh shook his head, he was a prideful creature but he was careful and observant. Even while he played the total hedonist Suresh knew there was far more under the surface of Corvinus. He'd gotten a small peek behind the curtain and he had gotten a taste of how much was still hidden. Labyrinthian depths. "I heard you went play acting to a few others too... I hear everything... eventually."

Suresh relaxed a little, letting his body uncoil slightly. He had only glamoured his hands, not bothering with the rest of it. The talons were useful but they were just one small brutal piece of his arsenal. "The offer to replace the one I ruined is still there. But you do look nice in my shirt." His eyes drifted over his shoulder and chest, nodding, "I knew that one would fit you." Eternity was a long time to have to plan, to remember slightly, to hold grudges. Suresh slowly manipulated his little game board of the city, making moves that were designed to not pay off for a generation or longer. Position himself carefully in order to strike the quickest and best blow. The people that truly drew his ire he dismantled brick by brick. Methodical and cruel until all they desired was release from the misery. But it had been a long time since he'd felt the need to do that.

The feel of the warm hand in his own, electricity that he couldn't help jumping from skin to skin, it was just part of what he was, a soft pulse of desire. But nothing that couldn't be shrugged off by the Witch. Because yes, to touch someone that could ignore that soft current that drew people to him was lovely. Dangerous and alluring. His eyes watched as Corvinus brought Suresh's hand to his lips and kissed it. Terribly charming. And Suresh's eyes softened at the caress as he searched for the lie, for the flinch. The Naga wanted to tell him that he should fear them... but who was he to correct the other? A mischievous glint came into his eye as he drew his hand back. Letting them rest in his lap, golden nails tracing his own scales absently, "I have to confess, I haven't been that excited in ages..." He let his tail drift down and loosely curl itself around one of Corvinus' ankles. The Witch had accepted the hand, so why not push a little?

Listening to the Witch again it had that taste of truth enough. Missing pieces. What was one witch? The sentence made Suresh reguard Corvinus' thoughtfully before he answered, "Depends on the Witch..." The comment about the not being considered a god made the Naga shrug. "One cultures monster is another's god. Who knows? Maybe in another five hundred years someone will make a shrine to the Immortal Blood Witch and burn effigies to you?" Suresh's mind drifted back to his Advisor and the Lightless Emissary. So many coincidences... "Something I am curious about, where did you find him? You might be a wonderful lure but you had to post up somewhere to get his attention... And we've been attempting to reach out for a long while now... I simply must know, where was it?"