#but no seriously look at how much we have of him and yet all of this is still barely scratching the surface augh

[universalzones]

"I'm just going to assume you completely forgot the fact that Starline has pumped my head with literally everything about you. I just try to ignore it myself if I'm being honest." Surge seriously hated how much she knew about Sonic to the point where if she tried she could guess what he was going to say next. The tenrec mostly pushed all the information down so it didn't flood her head all the time. It surprisingly easier with her memories back.

"Yeah, and I also know ya ain't a big fan of keep secrets with those you're close too which is why I know it's a big ask to keep it to yourself." Surge was sure Tails could keep it to himself along with a few other of Sonic's friend's, though she didn't want to take any chances along with another reason.

"I'd like to have a personal fucking chat with whoever is in the carrier ship over there. Sounds like a real asshole who thinks G.U.N needs to be up everyone's ass and have control of everything if their able." Surge heard a bit about this Lupus guy and he sounded like a fucking dick. The tenrec wouldn't mind giving him a kick in the ass. She's being arrested anyway so what's another charge, right?

===========================================================

"I believe you're overstepping your authority general. I have no doubt you could've stopped Director Jewel's call, but I wouldn't be surprised if the President order you not to do so. I have dealt with men like you, those who think they hold the cards yet you merely play with the hand you're given." Blaze wasn't going to be pushed around by Lupus, and had no doubt with the President getting involved he was no longer the ring leader of this blockade. The feline wouldn't be afraid to point that out. "Sonic and Surge are their own people. Even if I requested they remain here they wouldn't have." The princess was sure they'd ignore that request in a heartbeat.

"And if any of your men decided to get trigger happy you can rest assured I will personally join the fray," an armored solider said as she entered the room and walk's over to the console. She took off her helmet to look him square in his good eye. "More importantly if Princess Blaze were to be harmed rest assured you shall have the entirety of the Sol Empire crashing down on G.U.N and it won't be a fight." The lemur glare showed she wasn't joking in the slightest and had more than enough resolve.

"Though are main aim is to prevent such a thing. Odessa is just strongly spoken with her words." Blaze wasn't surprised her Odessa refused to remain silent at such a threat despite the telepathic order as one of her main duties was to protect the royal family so any threat no matter how big or small would be taken seriously. "My main goal right now is to discuss how to move everyone out without stepping on any toes. I know we haven't heard the outcome, though it should be a given we'd get to leave. So, I believe funneling them out through the main entrance is the best. Do you agree?"

Honestly he felt surge on that, he wanted to kick his feet up and take a long nap. This day had been long and exhausting, and he hadn't dealt with half of what surge was dealing with. But his quips, his jovial smiles, all of that was just part of who he was deep down. He doubted he could change that part of him forever. He did wish they could get along, and not squabble constantly but it seemed like this was how it would always be wasn't it? He hated that, but hoped deep down that when this was all over she'd find some amount of peace with her life.

" Honestly... i feel you on some level Surge. I'm ready for this day to be done... and to get a chance to relax for a bit. I'd take egghead over this standoff crap... "

He sighed hands on his hips and shaking his head as he didn't like all this political nonsense.

" You don't have to tell me that Surge. You may not know this, and maybe not many do--- But i've lost alot more battles then i care to admit. So i'm fine with conceding this one... I don't like it, but then i never like to admit defeat "

He admitted with a finger rubbing under his nose in a very old habit he may never be able to shake.

" Hey...I promised you didn't I? I ain't gonna go back on a promise... that's just not my style. So don't worry, I'll take care of it! let's just focus on the here and now in the meantime! "

===============================================

Miles wanted to tell Belle it was cool, that he got what she meant. He just always expected her to come to him more then Sonic. Maybe they weren't as close as he assumed? Or maybe it was just something she had to discuss with Sonic over him. He didn't know what was said but he trusted Belle's judgement and knew she'd explain when the time was right. He simply offered her a warm smile in response and focused on the task at hand. Readying the data for transfer and paying special attention to the General as he appeared on the monitor.

The General's image fuzzed a moment before coming back in Focus, his gaze never waver. Like steel he never let his emotions reflect on his physical features. His voice was always steady, not monotone but no pitcth changes to indicate his current state of mind. The general was truly an imposing figure the likes of Which Miles had never really encountered before. Abe had always been an easy man to talk to, on some level and he always knew where he stood. but This Lupus unnerved him, and made his fur stand on end when ever he spoke--- he didn't like or trust him... not a lick.

" Princess, i am a Soldier... I was born on the battlefield, and molded by tragedy and conflict. War is all i know, i live and breath it and embrace it with all i am. War is an ugly thing, it changes us and molds us with every breath that we take. For those who do not know war it, it is a chance for glory... and for those of us who know it to well, it is both a comfort and a nightmare... "

He placed his hands behind his back as he spoke in a very calm way as if he'd seen enough war to last him a lifetime and more.

" No, i have no desire to start a conflict here today, but i will do so if i must, or if i am ordered to do so. This day hinges not on my desires but on the Presidents... his finger rests upon the trigger now. "

He seemed to want to impress upon her that he was a soldier, and a warrior first and a leader and a diplomat second. He was ready for a battle but also not eager to start one. But that all of this hinged not on his own desires but on the presidents. He was simple a weapon wielded by another ready to enact his will should the time come for it.

The general tilted his head to one side as she explained there stances on the current situation. Though he seemed somewhat uninterested in what Blaze had to say about it.

" I understand your stance, but i fear that ultimate decision is out of my hands now. I can relay this information to President Thawn but as of now he ultimately has the final say in this. Though i shall take any data you'd like to provide on this matter. I'm sure the President will have his own approach to things but it is not my job to negotiate this peace, not any longer "

His eyes seemed to turn as if looking at someone or something else, possibly a monitor or someone that they couldn't see through the hologram.

" My more pressing concern are the two omega level threats who just deployed in the area blow the carrier. Princess are you trying to intimidate me? That's rather bold of you..."

He almost cracked a smile as if he appreciated the boldness of this move. Though he doubted Either of them had the courage to attack the carrier knowing what the consequences would be.

" Just know if you attack my people i will bombard restoration with the full force of this carrier in retaliation. So let's just take a breath and wait for Thawn and your little beetle to work out an agreement shall we? Oh did you think i wouldn't figure that out? i picked up her com signal the moment she sent it out... i could have blocked it but honestly--- i'm ready for this to be over ... let the diplomats work this out shall we "

Miles seemed to narrow his eyes at this General. For all the things he disliked about him the man was on top of his game. He was ready for them to pull a stunt like this. He half admired his efficiency and half was unsettled by how easily he was anticipating there every move. Was there someone in this room working for him? did he have a spy? more then that what was the end game--- What were he and this president really after!

================================================

How long had this conversation been going on for? Jewel asked herself as she felt like she and Thawn had been running in circles. He was stubborn in wanting both Surge and Kit as well as Belle and she was staunch in not giving the two up. She didn't even like giving Surge up but some things felt absolutely unavoidable. Yet the more they spoke the more she felt like Thawn was running circles around her.

He really did have all the cards in this battle. He had the full might of the United Federation behind him, and GUN to back it up. She needed to make a bold play here or she'd get no where with him. She didn't even know if she could bluff---but she did have one move left and it was risky but she had nothing left to play.

Her father always said strength only responds to strength... she never thought she'd agree with him ever... but here she was.

" I understand your stance Mr. President, but you must understand my own as well. I can not in good conscience, hand over two of my people without good justification. I'm sorry but the evidence as it is puts Kitsunami no where near central city at the time of the attack, and as for Belle. She has committed no crime... even if what you say is true about who made her. We can say the same for Omega and Gmerl... but neither of them are dangerous. "

" If you insist on this course of action i'm afraid i'll have to take action of my own. I'm prepared to release all information regarding this situation to the public. I'm sure your constituents will be very interested in how there elected representatives will be very interested in that story... i'm sure more then one news outlet will be eager to get there hands on it. You might win here today but--- you will lose the war ... and you and i know that. "

The Stag seemed mildly amused for a moment yet the more Jewel Spoke the more his usual cheerful smile seemed to fade away. She must have hit nerve, as it seemed he very much had to care about his image didn't he? He couldn't have as scandal like that get out there.

" And it would be a shame if people learned who you were wouldn't it Miss Bijou... i'd truly hate to have to mobilize police forces to deal with your family... "

He held his hand up as if to silence her

" However, i'll Concede... Give us Surge... and allow us to do a full investigation into this incident and, we shall arrange for Kitsunami to be place on a sort of Parole. He'll check in with a GUN officer weekly and if in a years time we are satisified with his reform... we'll consider the matter resolved. As for the Badnik Belle... we'll keep our eye on her, i don't trust her or anything eggman created--- But for now i'll trust your judgement. But should the day come that she turns on us i'll hold you personally responsible..."

Jewel nodded her head as it was as good a deal as she was likely going to get from them. It was mostly a victory, and strategy seemed to work on some level. Yet he knew her family? that didn't sit well with her... and made her antenna twitch.

" Agreed... i'll make the arrangements for your people to bring the paperwork to my office. Once i have read it over and had my legal time check it i'll make arrangements for Surge to be transferred to your Carrier. Now will you please remove the blockade... "

" That is satisfactory... and i'll open the blockade to essential personel, once the paperwork has been returned and i'm satisfied with what it. I'll lift the blockade and remove our soldiers. "

It seemed things were coming to a conclusion and... it wasn't ideal or perfect but it did seem that it was over. No one had gotten hurt, and despite Surge's loss she still saw it as a victory. On some level though he smile unsettled her deeply...

But it was over... or was this just the beginning?

[aroselaine]

Hii! It's my first time writing a req, so please ignore any issues! I was gonna ask for more Cas wing smut, ignore this if u don't wanna do it, obvi<3

OMG YES hi!! sorry it took a bit for me to respond but I am always down for more wing smut 🤭

Curiosity

Masterlist, AO3 Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader Word count: 2.1k Summary: You and Castiel love trading questions, so when you start wondering about his wings, you ask—only to discover why they’re considered so "intimate" ;)

Content: smut!! kissing, wing kink, praise kink if you squint, sub!castiel, body worship, no use of Y/N

When Castiel first entered your life, you couldn’t help but ask him all sorts of questions. What was heaven like? Are all angels the same age? What does your true form look like? To name a few.

But eventually, once all your basic questions were exhausted, he became the one asking. Why do humans eat junk food if it is bad for physical health? What is the purpose of watching television? Do all humans speak in sarcasm?

The two of you had bonded over your shared curiosity. So when a question came to your mind one day, you had no qualms about asking the angel the next time you saw him.

You sat in your motel bed, laptop on your lap as you mindlessly scrolled. Sam and Dean were out questioning witnesses, leaving you to do the research. It was unfortunately typical. Even with your status as a professional hunter, you were a pretty crappy liar. But without the witness reports the brothers were gathering, there wasn’t much for you to do yet. According to the police report, all of the bodies had been found with their hearts missing, which typically meant werewolves. However, the victims had been completely drained as well, leaving you all a bit stumped.

The ruffling of feathers brought you out of your thoughts as Castiel materialized, standing at the end of your bed. It had taken some time, but you hardly ever jumped when he popped in unannounced.

“Hey, Cas,” you greeted, looking up from your laptop.

“Hello,” he spoke gruffly, his voice sending a pleasant shiver through you. He had always had that effect on you, much to your dismay.

“What’s up?” you asked, shutting your laptop.

“I’ve finished my business in heaven for now. I thought I would check in.”

His words made you smile. “Perfect timing. I actually had another question for you. Sit,” you said, patting the spot on the bed next to you.

He nodded seriously, slipping off his shoes and hopping onto the bed. His eyes met yours, wide and curious, as he waited for your question.

“I was just curious. You told me angel wings were an intimate subject for angels, right?”

His brows furrowed, but he nodded in confirmation.

“Well, do they have feeling? Like if someone were to touch them, would you feel it? Is it like touching any other part of you?” you asked, voice laced with curiosity.

He hummed at your words, seemingly taking a second to think before responding. “They do have feeling, but it has been centuries since another being has touched mine. We don’t typically bring them into this plane; it leaves us vulnerable, as it is the only part of us, besides our grace, that can be seen outside of a vessel.” He broke eye contact, looking down at his lap. “To answer your other question, no, it is not like touching any other part of me.”

You nodded thoughtfully at his words. His answer was vague, making you even more interested than you were before. “Can I see them?” you asked, watching as his head turned back to you, eyes wide.

“You would like to?” he asked, his voice unusually timid, making your heart melt.

“Of course I would,” you spoke quietly, matching his tone and giving him a soft smile in confirmation.

He stood up quickly, walking to the center of the room. Your eyes followed him, watching as he moved stiffly. Was he nervous?

Cas brought a hand up and snapped his fingers, leaving him naked from the waist up. Your eyes went wide, realizing just how much his clothes had hidden his figure. He was impressively toned, his skin tan and smooth, his distinct v-line sending a shiver through you. He rolled his shoulders, and you sucked in a breath as you watched his muscles move. You bit your lip and looked down. Ogling an angel of the Lord would certainly send you straight to hell.

“You will need to close your eyes as I bring them forward,” he spoke stoically, his expression guarded.

You shut your eyes obediently, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation. The room fell into a hushed silence, before a bright light shone through your closed eyelids. The air shifted—heavy with grace, thick with power. You heard the rustling of feathers, similar to the noise he made when he arrived, only louder.

“Okay,” his voice came—soft, almost hesitant. “You can open them now.”

When you did, you gasped.

The motel room, once dim and unimpressive, was bathed in a soft, blue glow. His wings stretched behind him, massive and celestial, the edges blurring into the air like shadows made of light. They weren’t what you’d imagined—not white and birdlike—but they shimmered like smoke and starlight, folding and unfolding with slow grace.

“They’re… beautiful,” you whispered, breath caught in your throat. “You’re beautiful.”

He looked down, his cheeks going pink at your compliment.

You couldn’t help it; you stood up, moving closer until you were standing only a few feet in front of them. Your hand went up to your mouth in awe as you admired him.

“All angels' wings are different. Mine are nothing special,” he spoke, turning to look behind him.

Your eyes squinted at his self-deprecating words. “Castiel, I don’t have words for how special they are. They are the most incredible things I’ve ever seen,” you spoke honestly, watching as his wings gave a flutter at the praise.

He smiled shyly at your words as his eyes met yours.

“Do you think—” you paused. “Can I touch them?” you asked softly, watching as his jaw went slack, his eyes wide at your question.

There was silence between you, and just when you were about to take it back, he nodded hesitantly, turning around so his back now faced you.

You bit your lip as you took him in—his broad shoulders and muscular back making a heat pool low in your stomach. With Cas now being unable to see you, you couldn’t help but check him out. He had always been unfairly attractive, but the wings were certainly doing something to you.

You took a careful step forward, your heart pounding in your chest as if it, too, were bracing for divine contact. The closer you got, the more you felt it—the warmth radiating off his wings, an energy that made your skin prickle. It wasn’t just heat; it was power, ancient and gentle, and entirely Castiel.

Raising your hand slowly, you hesitated for only a second before letting your fingers brush the outer edge of one wing.

The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever known.

It was soft—impossibly soft—almost electric. You moved your hand inward, carding your fingers through the feathers. Cas’s wings fluttered under your touch, and he let out a small, involuntary gasp. You froze.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked quickly, pulling your hand back.

He shook his head, voice low and uneven. “No. You didn’t.”

You blinked, studying the line of his shoulders. “Should I keep going?”

Another pause. “Yes,” he said, barely above a whisper.

With newfound confidence, you brought both hands up, tracing the top curve of his wings. His feathers responded to your touch, flexing and rippling like they had a life of their own. You stepped closer, trailing your fingers to where wing met skin, feeling him shiver. A soft groan rumbled in his chest, his head dipping forward.

“Cas?” you asked cautiously.

He turned his head over his shoulder, and the look in his eyes nearly stopped your heart. They were darker now, stormier, like the grace within him was stirred awake.

“I didn’t realize…” he began, then paused, voice thick. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

You smiled softly, “Does it feel good?”

He nodded, quickly turning away, almost desperate. “Please don’t stop.”

You moved your hands outwards, and Cas instinctively drew his wings in, giving you full access. You traced the edges, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of the energy at your fingertips. Slowly moving in, you watched as he shivered again, his wings fluttering and pressing into your palm. Getting an idea, you used your nails to gently scratch the length of the wings, moving outward in a sweeping motion.

The angel reacted immediately, sputtering out a low moan as his wings twitched. “Again,” he let out through gritted teeth.

Your brow furrowed; it’s almost like—oh.

Oh.

You bit your lip, realizing this was doing a lot more for Cas than you had originally thought.

Deciding you certainly didn’t mind, you did it again, a deep shudder running through his body. His shoulders tensed, a soft growl rising in his chest.

“You like that, huh?” you murmured, voice playful  as you traced lazy circles in his wings. Cas didn’t answer, and you wished you could see his face as you continued touching him.

You leaned in, pressing against his back as your lips ghosted near his ear. “You like me touching your wings.”

A whimper escaped him—“Please”— and the sound made you ache with desire as you felt yourself clench on nothing.

You moved your hands slowly, deliberately, dragging your nails along the junction where his wings met his skin. The shiver that wracked his body told you everything you needed to know.

Castiel’s breath was uneven now, his wings trembling as you continued your ministrations. The air seemed to buzz with the static of his energy, each feather twitching toward your fingers as if desperate for more.

"You're shaking," you whispered. "Am I overwhelming you, angel?"

His breath hitched again, as he stuttered out another moan. “It’s… intense," he admitted, voice rough and low. "I’ve never felt this way before."

The confession made heat bloom in your chest—and lower.

"You said it had been centuries since anyone touched them," you murmured, your hand just beneath the arch of one wing. "Then I suppose it’s no wonder you’re a little… sensitive."

A sharp breath left him, and you could see the tension in his shoulders coiling tighter.

You leaned in, placing a soft kiss to the spot where wing met spine, and felt him jolt under you, a choked sound escaping his lips.

"That’s it," you breathed. "Let me take care of you."

His only response was a broken, whispered version of your name—like a prayer.

You let your hands wander , tracing along his spine before curling around the lower base of his wings tightly, massaging him deeply. He arched into you, letting out a primal noise, similar to a growl as the lights flickered, his wings trembling as you continued.

“Close your eyes,” he let out through gritted teeth. You followed his orders as a blast of blue light filled the room. The angel in front of you was moaning loudly as the sound of glass shattering hit your ears.

When the light no longer filled the room, you opened your eyes slowly. The room was darker than before, only illuminated by the sunlight coming through the blinds.

Castiel turned around to face you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with every breath. His blissed-out expression caused your stomach to flutter.

His wings, though now partially retracted, still shimmered faintly behind him, twitching with the aftershocks of sensation. Your gaze drifted over him, lingering when you noticed the wet spot in his slacks. Your cheeks flushed — he had cum in his pants. The realization somehow made him even hotter. When your eyes met his again, you saw he was watching you.

He stepped toward you slowly, his wings folding back until they vanished into the air with a sigh. His hands, large and trembling, came up to cup your face. “I didn’t know,” he murmured, voice rough from use. “I wasn’t aware I was capable of that”.

You leaned into his touch instinctively, one of your hands finding its place over his, fingers curling. “I’m glad I could be the one to show you,” you whispered, searching his face. “That was… I mean, Cas, it was incredible.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, fleeting. “You weren’t afraid?”

“Afraid?” you echoed, your own smile tugging at your mouth. “No. Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

Cas’s cheeks flushed again—adorably human as he asked, “And if I said I wanted to feel that again? That I want to feel you again?”

Your answer came without hesitation. “Then I’d say next time, I want to see your face when I touch you like that.”

“Next time,” he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips, then back to your eyes.

He leaned in and kissed you—fierce and full of everything he hadn’t said. You moaned softly into his mouth as his lips moved over yours. The world stilled around you, and for a moment, there was nothing but Castiel.

tags: @scary-noodlesblog, @alitzel02, @ser4phim-on-e4rth, @vengeance139, @olaflookalike, @strawberrymochikitty, @americanvenom13

[gojoidyll]

winner's circle pt. 1

sukuna x fem!reader x satoru

sukuna, an underground fighter, is faced against gojo satoru, an opponent unlike any other. the prize if he wins? you.

cw ; reader is called princess & wears heels

Oh, something was wrong with him. Seriously wrong, why did he do that? Was it really the only way to survive this hell? He should have done something different. Found another way. And yet… the hatred he had for this person was immeasurable.

He spit out the flesh that he bit and tore off and eyed the person in front of him. Blood splattered across his face and seeped from his mouth as he could still feel the texture of skin against his teeth. The person he was fighting with fell to the floor, their hands flying up to their throat as they tried to close the massive bite wound that he tore from their jugular.

The crowd roared with excitement and cheers, their applause was loud and resounding as he slouched forward, his breath heaving as droplets of blood dripped from his mouth and splattered to the floor.

What has he done?

Ryomen Sukuna was labeled as a monster in the underground fighting from then on. His career as a fighter skyrocketing as no one even wanted to step in the ring when faced with him.

“He kills. His opponents….”

“You’ll be dead before the first round ends.”

“He’ll bite your fucking throat out!”

Like father, stepfather, the son was drowning in the flood.

Despite the metaphorical water filling his lungs, years later he now had a reputation to upload and people to please. One of those people being your father. A wealthy man with too much money and too much time. He always betted on him, and a loss was never allowed. Not that Sukuna was worried about that aspect. Losing was always far from his mind.

“Father, are we done here?”

He also had to please you, because your father may be the one to place the bet, but its you who always chooses who to bet on. And somehow, someway he has caught your eye – if only for the time being.

Sukuna watched from the ring as you leaned against the railing of the balcony, your eyes boring holes into the side of your father’s head as everyone else in the stands already began to filter out. Another win safely tucked under Sukuna’s belt.

“Yes, sweety, but I just have to finish up this business here. Why don’t you walk around. Talk to people.”

Sukuna wondered if you were rolling your eyes as you pushed off the balcony railing and looked around before glancing down towards the ring and spotting him.

There wasn’t a semblance of a smile on your face as you looked down at him, your eyes holding a monumental amount of boredom within them before you turned and walked towards the stairs. Sukuna found himself standing straighter as you descended the steps, your eyes looking back at him and watching him carefully before your expensive heels met the dirtied ground floor.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you greeted him by name alone.

He didn’t believe in a god, but he did believe in you.

“Princess.”

You weren’t actually a princess, but with how high in the totem pole your father was, you were basically treated like royalty.

“I hear there’s a new fighter coming to town.”

Sukuna huffed, “that Gojo brat?”

You hummed, “think you can handle the so called honored one?”

“With ease.”

You looked him up and down, amusement swirling in your eyes and curling your lips, “then I guess I’ll continue betting on you then.”

Your father called your name, and you bid Sukuna farewell before turning to leave. But Sukuna was faster as he reached for you and grabbed a hold of your upper arm. The action got an immediate reaction as he found a few red dots littering his body, gun barrels already aimed and ready to fire.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want you to bet money this time.”

“Then what should I bet?”

“Yourself.”

“You want to win me over that bad?”

“You’re all I ever wanted.”

[darknight3904]

hiiii was thinking of Tommy and fem reader getting high together and fucking while on patrol<3 😋 maybe a sloppy make out session and some riding (my fav frfr)

Herbal Essences

Jackson!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Snowed in during patrol, you and Tommy make good use of your time, dipping into a special stash he and Joel had squirreled away

Warnings: Language, Smut 18+, riding, drug use (weed) unprotected p in v (don't do that irl.)

TLOU Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

You watched from the window of the abandoned cabin as the snow covered the Earth. The storm had rode up on you out of nowhere. Someone in Jackson had estimated you’d have at least another two days before it rolled in. Whoever they were, they were a shitty weatherperson. 

You shiver and cross your arms tightly across your body, turning back to your patrol partner and boyfriend who is building you a fire. 

“How’s it lookin’ out there?” Tommy asks over his shoulder 

“Like we’re gonna be stuck here for at least a couple of days.” You mumble 

Tommy grunts, tossing a match onto the wood, orange and yellow licking at the wood as he stands back up. 

The two of you fall into the worn out couch, the only piece of furniture that had been left in the cabin. Tommy passes you a sandwich which you eat tucked into his side quietly. It’d been a long day and you were tired yet there was something wrong. A cramping in your neck had been driving you nuts all week. The muscles were sore from god only knows what. You rub a hand across the nape of your neck, a deep sigh leaving your lips.

“Neck still botherin’ ya” Tommy asks, a mouthful of sandwich muffling his voice 

“Yeah, dunno what it is. It’s like I’m broken or something.” You sigh 

Tommy pats your thigh encouragingly standing up to cross the room to a few loose floorboards, “Got a surprise. Joel and I stashed it a while back, don’t tell him we’re usin’ it.” 

“If you’re about to whip out some king size bottle of booze Tommy I’m gonna tell you to put it back. I’m not really in the mood to drink right now.” You say, thinking back to the time he’d gotten so drunk on New Years he’d puked in your new boots 

“Nah, it ain’t booze.” 

Tommy turns back around, a plastic bag dangles infront of your face as you stare up at him like he’s lost his mind. 

“Seriously? Weed?” You roll your eyes 

“It’ll help those muscles relax, baby.” Tommy hums, resting a big hand on the nape of your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as he does, “Just try it. Don’t like it I’ll put it back in the floor and we can go to sleep.”

“Fine.” You huff 

Thirty minutes later, the weed hasn’t been placed back in the floorboards. Instead, you’re passing the joint back to Tommy who takes a long drawl, a mischievous grin on his face as he stares at you. 

“What?” You laugh, “There something wrong with my face?” 

“Nah, just admiring my girl.” He hums, passing the joint back to you before motioning for you to get closer to him. 

You scoot over but are pleasantly surprised when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap, legs straddling his lower half. You gasp when you settle into him, half hard cock pressing into your clothed center. Tommy gives you a smirk as his hands rest on your waist, taking a deep inhale of the smoke you exhale. 

“How’s your neck feelin’ pretty girl?” He softly asks 

“Good.” You mumble, distracted by the way he feels under you 

Tommy smiles at you, hand running over your cheek and back down your body, just ghosting over your chest. 

“Looking a little distracted. We didn’t even smoke that much, should’ve told me you were a lightweight.” 

“I haven’t smoked in like five years.” You huff, “M’tolerence is low.” 

Tommy leans in pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “Sure it doesn’t have to do with something else? Cuz’ I can practically feel how needy you are right now, drippin’ through those jeans I bet.” 

“Oh please, you’re the one who was half hard when you put me in your lap. If anything you’re the needy one.” You counter 

“Fine, fine, we’re both needy.” He takes the joint from your hand, snuffing it out in the ashtray, “Now lemme appreciate my girl.” 

Tommy pulls your shirt from your body, pressing kisses to the soft skin he’s unveiled as you slowly roll your hips down into him, low grumbles leaving his lips as you do. You hook a finger under his chin getting him to look at you again. 

You press your lips to his, once, twice, three times as he blinks at you. 

“You alright there? Weed finally short circuit that brain of yours?” You tease 

“Nah, just thinkin’ about what a hot girlfriend I got.” He laughs, capturing your lips with his. 

A gruff groan leaves Tommy’s lips as you cup his face with your hands, the kiss is all teeth and spit, the smoking has exaccerbated your need for each other. Big hands roam your body, squeezing and groping as he likes, Tommy’s hands inch down to where your jeans are still wrapped around your hips. 

“Fuck, get up, M’ gonna cum in my pants like this.” He groans 

Both of you push your clothes to the ground, Tommy pulls you back onto him, his big body keeping you warm. A hand sneaks down to your cunt, Tommy thumbing the wetness that has accumulated there, 

“Christ, you’re fucking soaked. This cuz of the weed?” He laughs, finger teasing your hole 

“Mmm, that and you’re just handsome.” You admit shyly 

Tommy gives you a cocky smirk as he shifts, lining himself up with you. You take the upperhand before he can, lifting your hips and sinking down on him before he can push you down hismelf. 

A loud moan leaves his lips as your hips work oh so slowly above him. Your hands rest on his chest fingers tangled in his dark chest hair while his grip your waist, helping you move up and down. 

You connect your lips to his again, smiling into the kiss, fuck he feels good like this. 

Tommy’s hands rise up to your chest, cupping you as he gently squeezes and tweaks your nipples. 

“Y’like that, honey?” He coyly asks, “Like it when I play with your tits? Fuck you’re always so soft for me.” 

The dirty talk goes right to your belly as you clench down on him, hips speeding up as he grunts under you.  Your wet cunt tightens even more when a rough hand begins to play with your clit, Tommy grinding the palm of his hand into the nerves while his fingers rub your folds, his cock still sawing in and out of you. 

“Fu-ck, Tommy.” You whine, “M’ close.” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum? C’mon baby, do it, soak me, mark me up.” 

Your nails bite into the sensitive flesh of his chest far too hard for it to be comfortable as you cum. You bite down on your lip whimpers and sighs escaping your lips as your head lolls onto Tommy’s shoulder. 

Tommy lets you come down, hand drawing back from your clit as you mumble something about it being too much. 

“S’ your turn.” You slur, the weed has made you sleepy and your other worldly orgasm hasn’t helped things 

“My turn.” He echos 

Tommy’s hands roughly grab you, his hips leaving the couch as he moves you up and down him with ease, bodies making an obscenely loud wet noise as he uses you. 

“Good girl, fuck you’re so fucking good to me, letting me fuck you like this.” He mumbles in your ear, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

Tommy suddenly pushes you off him, you land with a small oomph on your back, the soft fabric of the worn-down couch welcoming your tired body. You watch in awe as he pumps his cock, once, twice and then white cum ozes down his hand and spurts up onto his soft belly. A loud groan of your name fills the room as he tosses his head back, eyes slammed shut as his chest heaves, sweat glistening under the pale light of the fire. 

When he finally looks back at you, you’re already thinking of how many other ways he could have you tonight. Fuck the way the drugs were making you feel, you needed him now. 

A smile settles on your boyfriend's face, he knows exactly what you want. 

“C’mon over baby,” He pats his leg, “Not done with ya yet.” 

Liked this fic? Check out More Tommy Here

[thenoellebird]

Part two of the Dipper sick fic was so cute and sweet and I loved it so much💖😄 can we please have a part three🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Part Three

Dipper seemed pretty content with his applesauce, so Stan thought it would be fine to go check on Mabel and make sure she was alright.

Since Dipper had caught a bug, it was likely Mabel had too.

Stan left his nephew in the kitchen for a few minutes to finish his applesauce and went upstairs, carefully opening the attic door and peeking inside at Mabel. She was fast asleep. He walked quietly across the floorboards and gently laid the back of his hand across her forehead. It felt normal, and wasn’t sweaty or feverish at all.

Smiling, Stan kissed her forehead and then crept back out of the room, leaving Mabel to snuggle contentedly with her stuffed animals, smiling in her sleep.

Stan slowly made his way back downstairs. He peeked in the kitchen only to see that Dipper wasn’t there. Frowning slightly he walked down the hallway, and saw the bathroom light was on. He went into the bathroom only to find Dipper kneeling next to the toilet, looking very much as though he might be sick.

“Oh dear,” Stan murmured, walking over to Dipper and sitting beside him. There was nothing in the toilet yet, so Stan assumed that Dipper hadn’t thrown up. “You feelin’ like you’re gonna puke again?”

Dipper nodded weakly, leaning over the toilet.

“It’s alright kid. If it’s gotta come out, it’s gotta come out,” Stan murmured comfortingly. “It’ll be okay. No matter how many times it takes, we’ll fix it, okay?”

Dipper nodded, letting out a miserable little sob. Stan carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. Dipper leaned into the touch so heavily that Stan put his other hand on Dipper’s back to stabilize him.

Dipper was breathing heavily now and Stan brushed his hair back from his face as gently as he could manage.

“Take it slow, try to breathe,” he murmured gently. “You’re doing fine.”

Dipper tried to drag his breath a little, but shook his head when it made him more nauseous. Stan nodded.

“That’s okay. You’re doing okay, buddy. Just hang in there.”

Dipper closed his eyes and tried not to focus on how dizzy he was. It was nearly impossible with his now-climbing fever though.

Stan held him in the bathroom for another twenty minutes before his stomach decided it would keep the applesauce and he let his great uncle carry him back to the kitchen.

“Grunkle Stan?” Dipper whispered as Stan sat down with Dipper in his lap. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Stan inhaled deeply. “I’m not gonna let you suffer, kiddo. I care about ya.”

“But you always give me the worst chores and…and it seems like you just want me gone sometimes,” Dipper murmured, tucking his head against Stan’s chest.

Stan cuddled his nephew. “I do that to toughen you up, kid. I just want you to fight back a little. I didn’t mean for you to think I hated you. I don’t hate you. You’re a bright kid with a good head on your shoulders,” he told Dipper softly, running his hand through his nephew’s soft curls affectionately.

“R-Really?” Dipper asked hopefully, but then his face fell again. “Th-Then why do you tease me so much?” he asked, shivering from his fever.

Stan held him closer, wrapping his arms cozily around Dipper. “That’s all in good fun, kid. I never meant any of it to hurt you. You take yourself a little seriously sometimes, though. I wish you wouldn’t. You don’t have to. You can have fun and be smart at the same time.”

Dipper tucked his face back into Stan’s chest, still shivering and crying just a little bit.

“O-Oh…” he murmured. Stan ran his hand through Dipper’s hair again, gently working out the knots.

After a while, Stan pushed his nephew back from the hug to look at him. Dipper whimpered at the loss of comfort.

Stan brushed his hand across Dipper’s forehead. “You feel like you’re gonna throw up again?” he asked softly.

Dipper shook his head mutely, holding out his arms toward Stan with a wordless sob. Stan let Dipper fall back into the hug, holding his nephew tightly.

“You’ll be okay, kiddo. Come on.”

Stan picked Dipper up in his arms, slowly carrying him up the stairs. They made it to his and Mabel’s room and quietly entered inside.

“Since Mabel’s gonna wake up soon, I think it’s okay if you stay in here now,” Stan said, placing the bucket from downstairs near Dipper’s bed. “This is for you if you need to throw up again and you can't make it to the bathroom, okay?” he said softly, making sure Dipper knew.

“Mkay,” Dipper murmured sleepily. Stan smiled and leaned down, kissing his nephew’s forehead gently, very pleased to feel that the fever had broken.

“Sleep well,” he whispered into his nephew’s hair, moving away one last time and walking back to the door.

Only an hour later Mabel would wake up. He had plenty of time to work on the portal and then make breakfast, provided Dipper was alright for now.

I'm not sure if I wanna do a part four. we'll see how it goes. I have a lot of things I'm working on hehe and this feels like a good ending to me. Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next one!

if anyone dares try to tag this as a ship I will block you on the spot. No mercy.

[queermarzipan]

i could write a whole essay on the progression from nine -> ten -> tentoo as the only way timepetals would've happened and bad wolf pulling strings in the most poetic way possible & the kisses would take up an entire paragraph by themselves bc WHAT.

nine is the one that meets rose. he is obviously necessary. so many people have written about how rose is prfect for tardis life -- she loves it to the end of the universe -- and yet is still so utterly utterly human. and so is the literal perfect person for the doctor to love and heal from the time war with bc HE NEEDS HUMANITY. SO BADLY. AND HE NEEDS HIS BOX AND HIS LIFE-THREATENING ADVENTURES AND SAVING THE DAY. and guess what rose is fucking both. two halves of a circle that, in s1-4 RTD, are juxtaposed against each other over and over and over again just to hammer in the point of how FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE it usually is to square that circle. DK how we got from "two halves" to "squaring circles" you get me. you understand what i mean

And people also often talk about Ten being based off the doctor's love for rose. being born of a sacrifice to save her. but - and this is my new thought - the doctor needed to regenerate in the first place. for the love story to happen properly. because of fucking Bad Wolf!! HOW MANY TIMES have people talked about Bad Wolf pulling strings in the timeline to create TenToo, to get Rose's family all settled in a parallel universe where there will necessarily be a clean break and goodbye for everyone involved, even possibly ensuring that Canary Wharf happened so that she'd find her stride in a human life and be fully able to (eventually) settle down????

But all of that necessitates Bad Wolf happening, and Bad Wolf requires that the Doctor regenerate so that Rose can live on. Ten's very regeneration is integral to the love story just as Tentoo's is.

And Tentoo. I mean do I even need to say fucking anything about Tentoo. The Doctor regenerates (!!!), which creates the opportunity for a random swordfight to cut off his hand with basically no long-term consequences to him, and then during the one literal moment that he's not looking, after he's recovered the hand and is keeping it on the tardis (due to... someone... getting hold of it and using the convenient DNA sample to torture him), when he's literally running to rose. a random dalek suddenly appears and shoots ONLY HIM before being immediately taken out by Jack. & HE'S JUST GOT ROSE BACK!! HE DOESN'T WANT TO CHANGE!! The psychological moment alone is astounding. SO HE USES THE HAND TO NOT CHANGE, AND LO AND BEHOLD, A WILD HUMAN-LIFESPAN JOB-AND-MORTGAGE LIFE HAS APPEARED.

I can't stress enough how much this is the most perfect thing ever to me. like seriously. I love timepetals so much

[ninthcircleofprythian]

In the Heat of Autumn

Eris Vanserra x OC (Eliza)

Word Count - 8.1k

Summary - Eliza is captured on the border of Night Court but when they realize shes an omega who didn't know she was an omega AND shes in her first heat - time is of the essence.

Warnings - omegaverse, heats, mentions of slick, scents and scent glands, fingering (f receiving), piv, breeding, breeding k!nk, incredibly brief daddy k!nk, knots and knotting.

Thanks again to the lovely @tsunami-of-tears for the wonderful dividers.

“My Lord…”

“What is it, Rhodes?” Eris snapped in irritation. He didn’t even bother to lift his eyes from the paperwork spread across his desk, pen in hand. Another trade agreement proposal. Yet again, another court asking too much in exchange for too little. At this point Eris was seriously considering that they had all banded together to frustrate him to no end, no doubt trying his patience as the newest High Lord. 

“An urgent missive for you, Sir.” The uniformed male strode forward, sealed letter in hand. 

Eris could tell who it was from before the servant had even reached the desk. The jet black seal glistened under the faelight.

“What does the infernal bat want now?” He seethed rhetorically. “I already said I would attend his silly little Starfall party much to my annoyance.”

Slipping one slender finger between the folds of the parchment, Eris snapped the seal cleanly in two and unfolded the message with a flick of his wrist. Scanning quickly over the neatly penned words, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line. He was surprised to see his brother’s own handwriting scrawled across the Night Court stationary.

“Rhodes,” Eris spoke as he rose from the chair. “Inform Kallias that I require more time to look over his proposal and will be unavailable to meet with him this evening.”

With a flourish, the High Lord donned a cloak from the hook by the door and fastened the clasp. 

“Should I inform him of a new time, Sir?” Rhodes moved gracefully to open the door before Eris could grasp the handle himself. 

“I’ll let you know after I return.”

“She won’t talk,” Cassian grumbled. “I tried every tactic I know. Maybe you could try one of your daemati tricks or something.”

Rhys rubbed his hand along his jaw in thought, face pinched in concentration. “I’ve already sent word to Az. I’d rather wait and see what he can get out of her before I resort to that. My position as High Lord makes the daemati option a little precarious.”

Eris heard the voices echoing down the stone passageway as he approached the pair. Deep underground below the Moonstone Palace but not quite inside the Court of Nightmares itself.

“If by precarious you mean in violation of at least a dozen alliance treaty acts then yes - I’d say that puts you in a rather precarious position,” Eris drawled lazily. 

The Illyrians whipped their gazes to the approaching High Lord, decked in the finest autumn colors in contrast to their muted black and leather and the dreary atmosphere of the underground bunker. 

“Eris,” Rhys practically growled. “What are you doing here? And how did you get in?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, one of your very own emissaries is my brother. And it has come to my attention that you have in your possession a citizen of my court. So naturally, I came to claim what is mine.” Eris’ face revealed none of the brewing anger that roiled inside of him as he kept his mask of cool indifference solidly in place. 

“If by citizen you mean one of your spies, then yes.” Rhys evened his weight between both legs as he faced the Autumn lord fully  and crossed his arms over his chest. “She was found wandering the border of our Court, so naturally we brought her in for questioning.”

“Questioning? Is that what you call it? The last I remember, that overgrown bat of yours “questioning” my soldiers ended in their death.” Eris glanced toward the General as he saw that he too now took a more defensive stance. “May I remind you,” he drew out languidly as he met Rhys' glare once more. “That we have pacts and agreements in place for this very situation because of that incident. 

The Night lord’s hesitation to respond was quickly filled with a bright flare of light as Eris summoned his fire. Lifting one hand with a swirl a bright flame appeared and materialized a rather large sheet of parchment before the blaze moved higher to hang idly above Eris’ head. 

Clearing his throat purely for the dramatic effect, Eris proceeded to scan the parchment. “Yes, here it is,” he began as he pointed a pale elegant finger along the inked page. 

Before Eris could fully draw the breath for his words, Rhys interrupted. “I am fully aware of what the agreement says, Eris.”

“Oh good,” Eris sang with a bright lilt as he narrowed his eyes. “Then we are on the same page.” Another flourish of his hand and the idle blaze disappeared, taking the parchment away with it. “Now if you would kindly show me the way to wherever she may be then I'll be willing to overlook whatever other infractions are surely to be found regarding her captivity.”

As Eris strode forward to make his way further down the dank hall, Rhys moved lithely in front of him blocking the path. 

“You seem to be forgetting that the agreement also states that any fae found spying on a Court they don’t reside in can be held with notice.”

“With proof.’ Eris enunciated clearly. “And as you haven’t produced any and you as the High Lord were not the one to grant me notice, I say let bygones be bygones and we put this whole thing behind us.”

Rhysand continued to hold his ground, dropping his hands to his sides in balled fists. A low rumble of a noise escaped his throat.

The responding show of teeth from Eris had the hair on the back of Cassian’s neck rising. The narrow hallway was quickly filled with the aggressively Alpha scents that poured from the two males. 

“Whoa - ok. Hold on,” Cassian stepped between them with a palm to each of their chests. Eris swiveled his body to shift away from the touch while Rhys allowed himself to be shoved back an inch, eyes still narrowed on his target. 

“As much as I would love to mediate an Alpha bloodbath between you two,” Cas turned to catch Rhys’ eye. “I think we should at least let Eris see her and go from there.”

“Very well,” Rhys said smugly as he tugged at his shirt cuffs. Turning down the hallway Rhys took the lead, Cassian slipping casually between the High Lords as a precaution.

With a sharp snap of his fingers, Rhys commanded the cell door unlocked. The rusty squeak of ill maintained hinges elicited an involuntary tremble down Eris’ spine. 

As the other two stepped to the side upon entering the dank room, the captive inside was revealed. She was seated on the bare stone floor, arms clutched around her bent knees, forehead resting on her arms. Stepping over the threshold, Eris’ eyes were locked on the dark crown of her head, mentally willing her to look up so he could see her face. 

Just as she raised her head to assess her visitors, Eris heard the subtle scenting sniff from his right. At the same moment the same scent reached his own senses and it was as if he could feel every cell in his body respond in a cascade. 

Whipping his head toward the others, he saw Rhys’ eyes were dark and dilated, expanding in real time as his body too began to react. 

“Well this is an interesting turn of events.” Cassian remarked. Every muscle in his body seemed to be vibrating with tension and his eyes narrowed onto the female before them.

The scent was mellow. Sweet and airy but not yet intense enough to completely block out the musty scent of wet stone and dirt. Subtle and yet unmistakable, the gentle scent of a beginning heat. 

Eris drew in a lungful of that intoxicating perfume but it was quickly overpowered by the cloying smell of Alpha pheromones rolling off the Illyrians beside him in waves. “What are you going to do?” He snapped. “Rut her right here in this dungeon of a cell? Control yourselves.” Eris sneered. 

Cassian huffed an irritated breath and Rhys shifted his body to angle himself toward the snide Autumn court Lord. Eris didn’t miss the lingering hold that Rhysand’s gaze held on the captive as if he couldn’t bear to lose sight of her. 

“It appears you have made a mistake Rhysand,” Eris spat his name out in disgust, drawing Rhys’s attention away from the female. “She can’t possibly be one of my court’s spies in this condition. It’s not a secret that I only employ betas into my ranks. As she is obviously not, then I’m going to assume we are free to leave.” 

Rhsyand didn’t even gather a breath to respond before Cassian stepped forward practically snarling in Alpha dominance. “Now hold on there Eris. She may not be your spy but she is obviously an Omega. And seeing as she is coming into heat, it is entirely up to her whether she wants to leave with you or not.”

Eris narrowed his eyes on the pair. Rhys didn’t attempt to object to his General’s input but Eris didn’t like the look of smug satisfaction that he displayed as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Eris as he awaited a response. Their hope that she would choose to stay and be helped through her heat by one or both of them prickled against Eris’ skin like nettle. 

Turning away from them with a barely contained snarl, he faced the female before them and locked eyes with her. Eyes as dark as her hair and staring daggers straight into his soul. Stepping forward, he crouched down to her level.

“She won’t talk,” Cassian griped.

Eris paid him no mind, he continued holding her line of sight. As stoic as she held herself to be, he could see the tired lines along her face and the hazy confusion flitting through her vision. 

“What is your name, little one?” He asked with a soft command. 

She held firm, the gears of her mind turning as she tried to work out the best response to get her out of this cell and away from these dominating males. Figuring her name couldn’t do any damage, she answered. “Eliza.”

Her voice rang clear in the small room but Eris didn’t miss the slight tremble behind it. One side of his mouth ticked up in a feline smirk. “Eliza,” he repeated smoothly as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

Glittering there just under the point of her perfectly fae ear sat a gemstone of deep orange. Rocking back slightly on his heels, Eris maintained his outward composure but sat staring at it as confusion warred within his mind. 

The simple jewelry was the mark of a spy. Eris’ court spies to be exact. Yet, here she was emanating the most delicious of Omega scents. It was not a lie that he only employed betas within his ranks. The mixing of Alpha and Omegas within prominently important intel positions never failed to cause chaos of some kind. So how is it that she sat here before him bearing the mark of his army?

The High Lord’s hand still hovered next to her face, frozen in contemplation of whatever he was thinking. She knew it was next to impossible to recognize her on sight. The number of spies under his employ were many and he couldn’t possibly know them all, but the earring was a clear indication of her rank. It was the secret tell that they all used to identify each other in public spheres. All of this talk of Omegas and heats was so far fetched in her mind. Eliza knew she was a beta. Every test she had been subjected to before entering the Court’s spies had proven that. Whatever she was feeling was just exhaustion or illness or a combination of the two.

The puzzlement of whatever game was being played here was swept from her mind by a sudden and overwhelming comfort. A smell, musky and mild with undertones of incense and firewood, blazed through her senses and left her momentarily incapacitated to think. The aches that had increasingly wracked her body since being held here were suddenly eased and she felt herself relaxing every tense muscle. She just needed more of that,  whatever it was. 

She hadn't even noticed that her tired eyes had slipped closed and her face turned inward chasing that comforting scent. It wasn’t until a low rumble of a chuckle emanated from the male before her that she noticed herself nuzzling against the blood heated wrist of her High Lord. 

“Eliza, would you like to leave this place of your own free will and desire?” Eris asked, his voice low and gravelly. A flare of emotion that Eliza couldn't place shone brightly within his eyes. She paused for a moment, pulling her face reluctantly away from Eris’ wrist and fighting her sluggish brain to think. 

“Yes, my lord. I would like to leave.” Her voice left her just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear her clearly. Eris’ hand shifted, this time cradling the side of her face. His warm hand against her already too warm skin should have bothered her but instead it felt like a balm to her soul. The scent of whatever perfume had been dabbled on his wrists flooded her mind once more as she pressed her lips to his skin.

“With me?” The tension in Eris’ voice was unmistakable and yet his body remained perfectly still. Poised and ready to lunge at a moment's notice, it seemed to Eliza. Somewhere deep inside she knew that should have frightened her, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Another wave of aching rushed through her, flaring through every part of her body but most notably low in her belly. 

She didn’t stop herself from flicking out the soft, wet tip of her tongue fleetingly against Eris’ pulse.The smell alone wasn’t enough. She needed to taste it. “Yes, my lord,” Eliza sighed heavily. “With you.”

A tremor bolted through Eris’ body the instant the words left her mouth. Imperceptible to the others perhaps but he suddenly felt as if he could jump out of his skin. Moving quickly, he  righted himself to standing and turned on his heel to face the Illyrians still hovering in the room with him. 

“She has made her choice,” he stated seriously. The disappointment of Rhys and Cassian hung heavy in the air along with the stench of Alphas. “Seeing as time is of the essence, I bid you farewell.”

The sudden withdrawal of Eris’ hand from her face when he stood, the removal of that comforting smell that clung to his blood heated skin, had left Eliza feeling wretchedly worse. A surprising groan of irritation had risen in her throat before she swallowed it expeditiously. Her body revolting against whatever illness had taken hold of her was only getting worse by the second, so when Eris turned back to her with his hand extended in offer, she didn’t hesitate. 

Pulling her from the ground he propelled her into motion. Once on her feet Eris slipped her body in front of his and with a firm guiding hand to the small of her back, he ushered her forward through the cell door. The exertion of keeping up with the pace Eris set had her face and neck flaming with heat. Or maybe it was the fever. She didn’t have time to concentrate on it and before she knew it they were standing in the wide open floor plan of the Moonstone Palace. 

The walls of the palace were nothing more than gauzy curtains hung by whatever magic surrounded this place. The breeze fluttering through them lapped at Eliza’s overheated body and offered a sweet relief that she reveled in. The air around them now free of the closed in aroma of Alphas made the relief short lived as the haze of her mind returned. 

“Eliza,” Eris intoned cautiously as he turned her to face him with a grasp to her elbow.

The sensation of spinning made her head throb with a fierce ache. Bringing her shaking hands up to her face she began to rub at her temples with a groan of pain.

Releasing her arm, Eris reached for her face. “Sweetheart, look at me,” he said softly, tipping her chin up delicately with his fingertips. 

Her overbright dark eyes met his darkening amber ones causing the flush to return with a vengeance and she inhaled sharply at the shock. Heat rolled through her as if she was standing in a forge and a damp sheen broke out onto her skin. But it was the flood she felt gushing between her legs that caused her the most worry. 

Her face still cradled within his hold, Eris spoke again. Clearly and succinctly, knowing that the haze of what is happening to her was addling her mind. “Do you understand what you are feeling? Have you been through a heat before?”

Eyes locked, she couldn’t seem to break the contact. His body was so close and hers so hot. Every nerve ending was alight with sensation and at once her legs felt flimsy and weak. Grabbing at his forearm she braced against him for balance as she concentrated on the words he had spoken.

“A-a heat, my lord?” Her chest felt tight with every breath she pulled in. “No. I–I’m a beta, sir. I’m just–it's just an illness, I’m sure of it. I played along in order to leave.”

The High Lord’s face softened into something resembling reverence and pity. “Oh, little one,” he chided as his hand left her chin and dipped down to the side of her hot neck, hovering over the scent glands he could see were visibly swollen. The sweet aroma of Omega seemed to burst under his feather light touch as he drew his thumb over the engorged spot. “This is much more than an illness. This is something only an Alpha can make better, sweetheart.” Eris watched enraptured as her pulse picked up a rapid pace under the skin of her slender neck. 

Being a beta her whole life didn’t mean that Eliza was completely unaware of the mechanics of such things. She knew enough to understand the implications of what a heat meant. Somewhere in her awareness she knew she should be fighting the urges that were battling within her. She knew she shouldn’t be leaning so closely to her High Lord, her employer no less. She shouldn’t be running her hand over his broad muscled chest so disappointingly hidden beneath the soft fabric of his tailored shirt. She shouldn’t be enjoying the slip of his breath over the fiery skin of her cheek. 

“My Lord…” she panted, unsure of what exactly she meant to say next. 

“Call me Eris,” he rumbled, his lips so very close to her ear. Her breath hitched as his nose then dragged over her neck and pushed against that spot his thumb had toyed over earlier. It didn’t hurt like she expected, the soreness there having been a vague awareness to her for the last few minutes. Instead, the pressure of his nuzzling caused a bloom of sensation to race throughout her body and a shiver rolled through her despite her fever. 

“Eris,” she breathed as she collapsed further into his hold. His arms were fully encompassing her now and the urge to rub her own face against his neck was overwhelming. 

“Do you want me to help you sweetheart?” He questioned as he pulled his face back to meet her eye once more. “Do you want me to be the Alpha who makes it all better?”

“Yes,” Eliza pleaded. His scent was too overwhelming for her to resist any longer. Burying her face into his neck, she inhaled deeply causing another rush of wetness to release from her core. “Please,” she whined into his skin.

He didn’t hesitate a moment longer. In an instant, Eris winnowed away from Night, Eliza wrapped deliciously in his arms. The journey from here to his home court was far but a fae as powerful as him made it with ease. Someone with less power than a High Lord would probably have taken several jumps, briefly landing in other territories before hopping to the next. Eris however could do it with only one stop between here and his final destination. With concentration that was quickly dissolving, he chose purposely. 

The frigid air of Winter hit her full force like a blade and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her. Pushing weakly against his chest, Eliza attempted to shove his body heat away from her. His body didn’t budge but he dropped his arms willingly to allow her reprieve. 

The cold was dotted with bright bursts of snowflakes melting against her skin. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to fall back into the soft frozen powder that now swirled around her feet. Thin pants and a short sleeved tunic did nothing to hold the chill at bay and yet nothing had ever felt this good. 

Watching her face relax into rapturous pleasure, Eris retreated a step to allow her a moment of delight in the cold. The complete loss of his body contact elicited a strangled noise from her sounding too much like a whimper for his liking. Confusion quickly overtook her joy as her brow furrowed and her perfectly pink mouth popped open. Her hands lifted hesitantly before dropping, not knowing whether she should pull him back into her or push him away further. 

“I–I need–,” she stuttered at a loss for the right words. 

Eliza’s obvious distress sent a shockwave of instinct through him. The protective nature of his Alpha side roared to life as he pulled her back into the cage of his arms and growled involuntarily. 

“I know,” he shushed softly against her temple. “I know.”

Feeling her pressed fully along the length of his body fanned his instincts even higher in response. His pulse hit a racing tempo as it pushed out even more of his pheromones. Mine, mine, mine they seemed to insist as they flooded his system with every beat. Eris felt her ribcage expand beneath his forearms as Eliza inhaled deeply against him breathing in his essence. He practically purred in return.

“You smell so –” she started before another moan swallowed her words. 

A surge of feral pride and possessiveness pulsed through him. His cock strained against the confines of his pants, twitching painfully and growing impossibly harder against her stomach. Suddenly her weight shifted in his arms as once again her legs betrayed her and began to give out. Reacting quickly, Eris jutted out one knee and caught her between the thighs before she could slip any further toward the ground. The wet heat of her quickly soaked through the fabric of his pants. 

Feeling his resolve slipping at an alarming rate and with what little common sense he had left, Eris gathered his power and winnowed them home before he gave in and rutted her right there in the snow of Winter Court. 

His power cut slightly short as they materialized in the foyer of Forest House. Still bracing her weight against himself, Eris swiftly gathered her into his arms to carry her the remainder of the way to his chambers. 

“My Lord?” Rhodes inquired concernedly, stepping through the doorway to the right. 

“Not now, Rhodes.” Eris gritted through clenched teeth. “Have a dinner tray sent up to my chambers. I’m unavailable until I tell you otherwise.”

The stench of Alpha trailing behind his rapidly departing High Lord was the only explanation needed. Without another word Rhodes ambled off to complete his duty. 

Ascending the stairs two at a time, Eris felt Eliza’s body slacken further in his arms. “Eris,” she pleaded softly. “I feel so strange.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he panted as he rounded the corner of the hall. “I’m here. I’ve got you, Eliza. You’ll feel better soon I promise.”

Reaching his chambers, Eris forcefully kicked at the partially open door before charging inside and placing her gingerly on the large bed. 

Eliza released a pitiful cry as he laid her down but didn’t attempt to grasp onto him. Instead she watched as he stepped back and began tearing at the cloak clasp at his throat. “This will help,” he insisted. 

Confused as to how a simple garment will take away this noxious feeling, she mewled out another pitiful noise. She was dizzy and weak. Hot and fevered. Mind clouded with a daze that had no beginning or end. Her body ached in places she couldn’t pull forth the name of but she knew they needed attention. 

Whipping off the cloak with a flourish, he draped it over her fully. The heat of him still clinging to the fabric as it wafted his scent directly over her. The relief was instantaneous. He was right. It was helping a great deal. Her aches eased and a bubbling pleasure washed over her as she gathered the folds into her hands and brought it to her face. Everything she did was on pure instinct as she rubbed the well worn fabric to her face and wrapped her body tighter within it. 

Watching her body writhing on top of his mattress as she covered herself in him had his cock jumping. The filthy image of what she would look like beneath him as he sank into her hit his mind full force.

With shaking hands Eris worked at the buttons on his shirt before giving up and tearing it from his body. Tossing it onto the bed beside her, he watched as she didn’t even open her eyes. Her arm snapping out and practically snatching it from the air and adding it to the pile. 

He attempted to draw in a calming breath to settle his jangled nerves. Eris preferred to be more prepared than this. Cool and collected and ready for every eventuality when it came to caring for an Omega. Without a word he turned, walking toward the bathroom to prepare his next plan.

Eliza didn’t even notice as he slipped silently away. Gathering up all the pillows lined neatly along the headboard she buried her face into them before arranging them haphazardly in her nest. Every stitch smelled of Eris. She could almost feel the scent wrapping itself around her, intoxicating in its heady severity. Lost to the instincts of her body she heard them screaming in her head that she is too hot, too clothed. Clawing at the fastenings of her clothing, she nearly ripped them from her body in her haste to remove them. She needed that wonderful scent touching her skin.

He was right. This was helping. As his scent further permeated her brain she felt that foggy dazed feeling begin to clear away. The act of building a nest felt purposeful and right. Every movement of fabric across her skin tingled with awareness and anticipation. 

Many drawn out minutes later, Eris returned from the bathroom and finds her still and quiet. Drunk on his scent, she had surrounded herself in the mess of his tangled bedding, naked and curled around the pillow he slept upon every night. 

His low rumble of a laugh broke the spell of her trance. “Well, you made this next part a little easier.” He smiled down at her with an adoring half smile, his knuckles brushing lightly against her cheek as her eyes fluttered open.

“Lay with me,” she croaked out, voice weary. “Please. I want to feel you against my skin.”

“Soon, little one,” he crooned as he scooped her into his arms. “This is your first heat.” As he shifted her higher in his grasp, Eliza took the opportunity to nuzzle into his warm neck, nudging against his scent glands and causing his still restrained cock to twitch painfully. “You weren’t expecting this,” he continued. “Let me take care of you.”

Entering the bathroom, she found a bath had been drawn. Easing down, he slowly lowered her into the lukewarm water. The delicate caress of water slipping over her overheated skin elicited a drawn out sigh from her lips.

“Too cold?” Eris questioned, pausing his descent. 

“No, no. It’s perfect,” she sighed once more. 

The relief was welcomed as she laid her head back against the edge of the tub. With a lazy roll of his wrist, Eris extinguished the faelights of the room and brought to life the flame of what must have been a hundred candles scattered about the room.

Drawing up a small wooden stool, he lowered his lithe frame down next to the tub, leaning his forearms along the edge. Their faces were close and their eyes met in the flickering light. 

“Do you understand what is going to happen, little one?” His tone was serious, bordering on deadly.

Eliza waited before giving her answer. Taking in the sight of his face in the candlelight, she watched as the shadows danced along the sharp angles and edges of his brow and nose. The amber glint of his eye shone like a creature caught prowling through the woods at night. He looked practically lethal and she found herself wishing for him to devour her whole. 

“I’ve heard stories here and there,” she broke the silence. “I know enough.”

Leaning closer, he brushed the tip of his pointed nose against hers. “And what do you know, Eliza? Tell me, sweetheart.”

The low tenor of his voice sent her heart into a flutter. The heat that had been cooled by the bath came rushing back, bursting over her body with rapid intensity.

“I know that I’m in heat,” she whispered, trying to catch her breath. “And I know that your scent is biologically primed to prepare me for breeding.” The thought of being bred by the male sitting so gracefully before her stole her breath even further. 

Slipping her hand over the edge of the tub, she dangled her fingertips along his clothed thigh.“I know that we will fuck. And that you will knot me.” Her free hand grazed down her submerged skin and swirled against the thatch of her hair between her legs. 

His eyes were glued to the movement of her hand below the water. Eris shifted his weight on the stool attempting to relieve the pressure against his cock within his pants. “And is that what you want?” It was his turn to be breathless.

“Yes,” she moaned as she bent one knee and brought it above the surface of the water. Her legs parted and her fingers slipped easily into the well slicked skin. “Yes,” she cried out as the pads of her fingers made contact with her aching bud. 

Eris moved with preternatural speed, one hand shoving behind the base of her neck as his mouth crashed against hers before she could even draw a breath. A needy keen resonated from her before it was drowned out by the ministrations of his tongue. The silken heat of his mouth sent a current surging through her and she gasped against his lips as she saw the candles flare higher around them.

Her fingers danced over the delicate skin of her clit and she could feel the blistering heat as it ravaged her body. She ached and throbbed, every sense on high alert as she chased after a finality that might give her a moment’s respite.

Deepening the kiss, Eris pressed her head further back into his palm and the edge of the tub. At the same time his other hand dove into the water to join hers, finding her core with ease. There was no hesitation or attempt to stop her own movements. Instead his slender fingers bypassed hers that stroked along her sensitive clit and made their way directly to her entrance. One testing nudge and he entered her with the tips of two fingers. 

He felt her tense against him for just a moment before giving in. She pushed her mouth insistently against his, deepening the kiss and nipping at his lower lip.

At her wordless permission he wasted no time and pushed evenly inside her tight heat. Her walls stretched easily and accepted him readily as they pulsed over his knuckles and gushed even more slick from the depths of her. 

Matching the pace she had set with her own movements, they synced together. Her hips lifted from the floor of the tub, pushing him deeper inside. Her kiss became frantic, the nails lingering along his thigh, digging into muscle as her nails scraped along the fabric of his pants. 

Breaking the kiss, Eliza shifted her mouth to the side of his face panting for breath against his cheek. “Eris–oh–oh gods–.”

“Yes?” He answered lazily.

“I–I need more. I need you,” she wailed.

“Soon, sweetheart,” he promised with a kiss to her temple. “Very soon.”

Her hips lifted again and her breaths picked up rapidly. Swiping his thumb across her fingers, he knocked them away from herself and took over. Not a beat was missed as his thumb continued the rhythm before increasing it vigorously. His fingers curled within her depths.

The resulting cry she released bounced around the room, echoing off the tiled walls reminding Eris briefly of the haunting hymns he once heard in a temple many years ago. Her hand scrabbled against the tub’s edge as he drew his nose along the side of her face. Lowering his mouth, his tongue darted over the thin skin covering her swollen gland. He felt her swallow thickly against his lips as she fought for even breath. Sealing his lips against her, he applied more pressure to the slightly protruding spot. Drawing back his tongue, he began to suckle gently against it.

Eliza bucked and cried out once more. She felt weightless and heavy at the same time as the rush of her climax ravaged her. The depth of his fingers, the pull of his mouth, the clenching burst of pleasure, she had never felt more alive. 

Eris continued his movements, slowing them incrementally until he felt her melt back into the floor of the tub. As her body relaxed he sat back to stare at her, taking in every pleasure drunk feature. Withdrawing his hand, he slid it up over the expanse of her skin and settled it squarely in the middle of her heaving chest. Their gazes met again and a slow feline smile spread over Eris’s kiss swollen lips.

“Come on,” he said as he lifted himself from the stool and grabbed the waiting towel. “It’s time to eat.”

Eliza lazed in the water, boneless and thoughtless as she watched him move about the room. “Time to–eat?” She blanched at his words. 

Yes, little one. Eat.” Eris said as he gingerly grasped her hand to help her from the tub. “You’ll need your strength.”

The implication of his words rolled through her in a shudder as she stood on the soft bath mat. Kneeling down Eris began patting her dry and she felt the indignation at further delay melting off of her. The humidity in the room atomized his scent, bringing it deeper into the recesses of her nasal passages and making her feel warm and heady all over. 

Striding naked back into the bedroom, the effects of her recent climax began to wear thin and Eliza felt the fogginess creeping back in. Falling into the impromptu nest she had thrown together, she lay atop all the articles of Eris she had gathered and gyrated her body among them.

Turning from the bedroom door he had sidestepped to, Eris carried a tray laden with dishes. Making his way over to the bed, Eliza felt the hunger hit her full force as it was placed over her lap and he began removing the domed covers. A thick brothed stew brimming with vegetables, thick crusty bread with fresh butter and a tender cut of meat sliced paper thin.

“What about you?” She asked, dunking the spoon into the stew and stirring.

The sly feline smile returned, softening the harsh cut of his brow. “I’ll have my fill-”

“Soon?” She cut him off with a giggle.

“Yes,” he grinned. “Soon.”

Eliza ladled the stew into her mouth with enthusiasm, Eris occasionally dabbing at her mouth with a fine linen napkin. As she took the final bite of the makeshift sandwich she had made with the tender meat, her stomach flipped. The raging fire of fever within her blood had returned with a vengeance and her cheeks flamed a burning red. A whine escaped her as her hand reached for the muscled forearm leaning over her legs. 

“Eris,” she mewled. “I’m starting to feel strange again.”

“Shhh,” he soothed as he lifted the tray from her lap to set it on the floor by the bed. “I know, little one. Drink this.” Grabbing the glass from the nightstand he brought it up to her pouting lips.

She reached for the frosty glass with a trembling hand but he didn’t allow her to take it, instead tilting it slowly as the water poured into her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

“A little more,” he encouraged when she attempted to push his hand away. A few hearty gulps later and he seemed satisfied, setting the glass back on the nightstand. 

Leaning closely over her, he penetrated her space but she didn’t protest. His bare chest brushed lightly over her sensitive skin and her nipples puckered tightly at the stimulation. Eris’ hand slid behind her head and she let out a tiny yelp as his warm breath tickled over the shell of her ear. 

“Lie back,” he commanded softly.

Obeying without hesitation, Eliza scooted her body down the mattress, sinking further into her nest. With his free hand, he manipulated the fastenings of his pants from where he sat before standing upright at the bedside and pushing the clothing away to the floor.

As his cock sprang free, Eliza pushed up to sitting. She couldn’t drink in the sight of him quickly enough. Hard and muscled. Lean and long limbed. The length of his erection standing proud and firm. The length itself was impressive enough but it was the hearty thickness that had her palms itching to stroke it. 

He approached the side of the bed just as she leaned forward, eager to examine every inch. “Can I touch?” She queried, eyes flicking up to his face eager and bright.

“You can do much more than that, sweetheart.” He smirked.

Although the aches throughout her body had eased, the throbbing of her core was incessant. Reaching out tentatively, she settled the surprising weight of him in her hand. Silky smooth and surprisingly hot to the touch. The gentle stroke of her elegant fingers as they wrapped around his girth caused it to twitch in her hand and her body responded with a gush of slick between her thighs. She slid her hand deftly towards the base, feeling along the ridge of swelling flesh that would become his knot with a soft fingertip. The sensation caused Eris to tremble and a wave of anticipation and tension consumed her, hardening her nipples into painful peaks. 

“Will it hurt?” She questioned him breathlessly, drawing her thumb over the bulge at the base tenderly.

A deep groan sounded from Eris’ chest as he rolled his head back and closed his eyes, willing himself to remain steady on his feet. He wanted nothing more than to push her back onto the bed and have his way with her right here and now. But he was following her lead, he didn’t want to scare her. 

Angling his head down, he answered. “It might. Being your first heat, it’s very possible.” He watched her carefully as she continued palming his cock. The sight of her pale skin in contrast to the blood fueled crimson of his own was nearly his undoing. He expected some hesitance, maybe even a little fear at what was about to happen. But she didn’t flinch.

“We can take it slow and–”

“No,” she interjected quickly. She whipped her head up and stared, clear eyed and sober. “No, I want this.”

He considered her words for barely a moment before lowering his hand to meet hers, grasping himself and her hand tighter around his aching cock. “If at any point you want to stop, you tell me.”

“I won’t,” she shook her head decisively. “ –want to stop, I mean.” She squeezed along his shaft evenly and his own fingers tightened around her in response as he simultaneously rocked his hips forward, thrusting into her grip.

The smell of him was more potent than it had been at any point before and Eliza felt her entire body singing in answer, slick already dripping down onto the nest beneath her. These instincts that were all so new and strange to her yelled inside her, telling her that once she felt him deep inside she would never want to stop.

Eris trailed his thumb over the tender spot of her wrist with a gentle press to where her scent glands bloomed. She gasped out a moan at the tender ache of a freshly healing bruise and released her hold on him.

Breathing deeply, she took in the dizzying pleasure of him as he leaned over and brought his mouth to her ear. “Lie back, Eliza.”

The sound of her name falling from his lips coasting over the shell of her ear left her trembling as she fell back onto the bed. Eris followed, prowling over her and placing himself neatly between the legs that so readily fell open for him.

“Eliza,” he crooned softly in admiration. She trembled again, chest heaving in short pants as she watched him taking in the sight of her. Glistening with slick and swollen with desire, her most secret parts were open and wanting before him.

Eris’ mouth watered profusely and he swallowed heavily at the sight. The urge to bed down and taste the sweet essence of her was overwhelming. Later. Having held his desire back long enough, he wasted no more time.

Drawing the engorged head of his length through her moistened slit, he coated himself thoroughly before notching at her entrance. Wide eyed and tense with anticipation, Eliza stared at where they were to meet. 

“Eyes on me sweetheart,” Eris insisted and he rocked gently against her.

Looking up, she found his face twisted into animalistic glee. A stark contrast to his smooth tone. “I want to see you as you are filled with me,” he growled. 

The path before him was throbbing and ready, well lubricated with little resistance. Sinking slowly into the hot heat of her was more than he had imagined. Her eyes went wide before fluttering as she moaned wantonly, her legs falling open even more. Prickling pleasure shot through him and raced along his spine. Falling forward he caught himself on his forearms, caging her in with his body as he too released a filthy noise. 

He kept his pace even, holding back from releasing his full strength against her, denying every urge in his body to rut her hard and fast. Every thrust inward he bumped the still swelling edge of his knot against her but pushed no further.

The sliding drag of him inside her was almost more than she could bear. Surrounded by his body and filled with his length, every nerve ending of Eliza’s body was alight with intense need. Everything outside of this moment ceased to matter. “Harder,” she nearly sobbed. “Please Eris, harder.”

Anything she asked, he would give her. He plunged into her with abandon and she buried her face into his throat as she screamed wildly. The mingling of their scents rose richly into the air, permeating everything around them. The thought of smelling the evidence of their mating in his bed long after she was gone slammed into the walls of Eris’ mind. 

Gone. NO.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

His instincts roared as loudly as the heartbeat in his ears. “You’re going to be so beautiful filled with my babe,” he huffed winded. “Nearly as beautiful as you are filled with my cock.”

Eliza threw her head back into the pillows and screwed her eyes shut as her orgasm ripped through her at the thought, taking her completely by surprise. Eris hissed through his teeth as she pulsed around him, squeezing and coating him with more warm fluid.

“Does that excite you, little one?” He murmured. “Being bred by me? Your belly heavy with our babe?”

Even as she shook with aftershocks, his pace didn’t falter. The wet sounds of their joining reverberated through the room. She couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to be filled even more. With his cock, his knot, his babe. Anything he would give her, she needed.

Wrapping her legs around him, Eliza locked him in close to her and stopped him from pulling back fully any longer. “Yes. Yes. YES.” She chanted with each roll of his hips against her. She could feel the prominent edge of his knot pressing against her entrance with every thrust, nearly doubled in size since she held it in her hand. Pulling her legs tighter around him she tried to force herself on it. “I need it, please. Eris–Eris–”

“Tell me, my sweet Omega,” he growled in her ear as he nipped sharply at her lobe. “Tell me what you need.”

“Your knot,” she shouted into the hard muscle of his shoulder as she clung to him.

“Even if it hurts?” He teased, pressing harder with each thrust and feeling the beginnings of the tight stretch of her. 

“Yes!” She gasped hoarsely. “Even then. Daddy—please!,” she sobbed. 

A jolt of shock stunned him to stillness, his knot pressing at her needy entrance. Her eyes stared up at him wide and wild as she started to writhe beneath him in protest. He couldn’t leave her wanting, everything in him screamed at how wrong that was. Picking up a slow roll against her once more he nuzzled against her ear. “If you want it so badly,” he rumbled. “Then take it.”

Before she could process his words or react, Eris shifted his weight and rolled them, flipping their positions. She landed on top of him with a squeak as his knot pressed against her opening. Now straddling him, his cock hit even deeper than before and her weight settled over his knot with a delicious sting. Inhaling raggedly, she attempted to sink lower trying to accommodate this new pleasure. 

“Breathe, little one,” Eris soothed, his hands solidly grasping her hips and thumbs sweeping calming circles along her hip bones. 

Shifting her legs more comfortably, she babbled out high sounds of pain and need and ecstasy. She lifted herself up and slid back down, attempting again and again to work that bulging knot into herself. Eris’ grip tightened as he helped her along in her quest, his own pleasure snaking down his spine and throughout his legs. Gritting his teeth nearly to the point of cracking, he staved it off. He refused to release until he was locked into her, until not a drop of his seed could escape.

Matching her rhythm, he lifted his hips to meet her as she dropped down against him. Each thrust in answer to her was just a bit more forceful than the last. She managed to accept half before her inner walls began clenching against him once more. Eris knew this was his chance.

As she broke apart above him, she quivered with release, arms clawing at his own to stabilize herself. Holding on with all his might, Eris plunged upward into her pulsing channel and felt the world shift around him as the entirety of his knot anchored inside her.

A full throated wail erupted from her as her orgasm extended into mind altering bliss. She slumped over, paralyzed from the pleasure, rocking her hips against him involuntarily. Eris wrapped his arms around her as he rode the streak of violent euphoria. “Mine,” he growled roughly into her hair as he pumped his seed deep inside her. “Mine.”

They lay there, breathless and sated. Limbs heavy and hearts thumping wildly against each other, clinging to one another as they waited silently for Eris’ knot to release her. Eliza half hoped it would never end. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Eris shushed as he stroked a hand through her hair. “We have plenty of time to assure you’re full of me in every way possible.”

taglist -

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[sunny-knight]

I know this isn’t canon in undertale or this au, but just imagining Papyrus knowing about resets to an extent because part of him was split across time and space, and he just hides that from everyone so he can be “everyone’s good old innocent Papyrus with 0 problems” is such a fun idea to me.

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS THOUGH- BECAUSE WHAT IF IT WAS CANON???

Excuse me while I use this to make an analysis of Papyrus’ character- i didn’t choose this life. This happened to me.

PAPYRUS AND RESETS.

The main question I ask on the debate of if Papyrus is aware of resets or not, is…if Papyrus, as we know him…doesn’t know about resets…Then would learning about that…change ANYTHING about the way he is now?

The most obvious trait of Papyrus is that he’s INCREDIBLY optimistic. He’s one to go in with his head held high, and keep it raised for basically his entire life. Everything he does is incredibly light hearted, and this leads to a lot of accidental flanderization and misremembering of his character. But to get more into that, I wanna address how Papyrus and Sans contrast and are foils to one another. They are complete polar opposites…and yet… SO alike. In their little bits they do in the Snowdin Forest puzzles, Sans doesn’t take anything seriously, while Papyrus takes EVERYTHING seriously, but in the end it’s all light hearted. I know some of that comes from just the games general tone, but I like to think some of it is part of their genuine character.

Analyzing characters in Undertale can sometimes be a tad frustrating in that way, since its hard to tell which jokes have meaning and which jokes are just jokes.

But back to my original point, Papyrus sometimes gets very mad, sometimes very confused, but seems to either flip on a switch with anger, or just roll with confusion, as seen with Papyrus being “mad” at Sans, or confused at what Undyne is saying on certain phone calls. He’s just naturally a very happy person.

Thats where the common trope of Papyrus lying about everything and actually being a completely different person from whats shown in the game comes in. I think thats inherently a tad silly, since “I lied.” is a bit of a lazy twist. THATS NOT TO SAY HES NOT DEFINITELY GOT SOME WEIRD SUSPICIOUS THINGS ABOUT HIM Its just to throw all of his actions in the game out the window in favor of “he was acting” “he was lying” is not how I like to analyze him (but if you do, more power to ya :D) (Some also argue that Sans is just like that, but I disagree since in the geno route when its properly revealed just how much he knows about resets, it completely makes sense and is more like an answer to a question we had for the longest time. WHAT does he know?? cause he clearly knows something. Additionally, in that fight, Sans doesn’t at all come across as a completely different person, its more like we’re getting to know him better. See a side that he’s buried for the longest time since he never thought it would come to this. Or at least hopes to god it wouldn’t)

Papyrus’ optimism/pacifism both comes across as naive, and extremely admirable. It takes different forms in different settings and perspectives, Flowey dismisses it as stupid, but thats because he’s Flowey- Sans genuinely admires it for several reasons which ill get into later! And Undyne…uhh…honestly i cant tell how she feels about that, just that she cares an awful lot about him and thinks itll get him killed one day (*cries vehemently*)

But my main point here is in the usual game/pacifist route, its very clearly established that Papyrus has a heart of gold and sometimes that can get exploited on how he is the one constant moving factor to help the route actually happen in helping Flowey set everything up. It’s lowkey giving foreshadowing on how he may be the knight in deltarune because of- OKAY OKAY- PUT DOWN THE GUN

Getting exploited is one of the downsides we see in the pacifist route, but in the geno, we get a VERY clear look into how far he is willing to take his faith in others. His willingness to see good in people is tested, and its established he doesn’t have a single distrustful bone in his body, always believing in people to change. It’s never “too late”. Even after you kill him too

This is HOW Papyrus would know about resets comes in

The King Papyrus ending is a moment in the game that I have many opinions on that disagree with a LOT with a big portion of the fandom (at least last time I checked)

Papyrus not being told about his friend's death, leads to 2 big assumptions about his GENERAL CHARACTER THAT I DISAGREE WITH. Sans lies to Papyrus on a daily basis, and Papyrus doesnt understand what death is. These are things that work in to fit every day life, and are proven by happening WHEN ALL OF HIS FRIENDS ARE DEAD 😭

I feel these are more a result of Papyrus’ unwavering trust, which can be certainly admired in a lot of ways, but of course, used, too. Even if people agree with me on that unwavering trust part, people still use that as ammunition for Sans lying to him being an often occurrence. But- Sans… right now- is being put in a REALLY bad spot. Telling his brother to his face that all his friends are dead isn't something I think anyone wants to do. So, him lying to Papyrus isn’t exactly proof that he thinks little of him in any way, it's more his desire to protect a person he loves from knowing a horrible truth, and having the opportunity to do so on a silver fukn platter. But even then it feels like Papyrus still knows…he’d just rather accept whatever Sans tells him. Thats Papyrus’ ONE AND ONLY FLAW

Papyrus also seems like he naturally thinks very black and white? and by black and white I mean only white.

The common consensus on his character is he only SEES good, but just like the assumption of how things work in daily life being attached to how these characters act when someone comes down and kills all their loved ones, I think thats working on a very surface level character-moral-compass. Its not that he only sees the good, its that he believes in the good no matter what. There may be bad, but good can and will, prevail

Papyrus sees and knows that people have the ABILITY to lie, he just also believes they are telling the truth when they say something like “I promise this is 100% true” because he still trusts everyone, and trusts himself to handle whatever happens as a result.

Papyrus sees that the world may never truly have an ending, but he believes that things will turn out eventually.

Papyrus is not stupid, he’s optimistic.

and also autistic

[skopostheorie]

请你谈一谈对环境保护的看法。

Mario had never liked languages or, as they called them back in New York, LOTE. Which was ironic, for sure; the flurry of Japanese nonsense Toads would occasionally hurl at him had been a barrier he had spent far more time than he would openly admit hacking at. In childhood he knew as much English as any youngster who wanted to read action comics before they were translated would. And then, in adulthood, as much as any hungry-Sicilian-in-NYC archetype who wanted to say exactly as much, and not a bit more, as he needed, in order to get work where he did not need to say anything at all. That Peach knew enough English to create some level of mutual understanding, and that she was content to receive little drawings from him instead of letters with words on it, until he could catch up with Japanese, was the only thing that kept him afloat back in those days. As did his reputation that he was happy and a great friend who did not speak all that much.

But as he grew into his age and he started, not relating to children reading action comics, but rather chuckling fondly at them, it so happened that Mario no longer had the privilege of openly denigrating school subjects. Not to these children's faces, anyway.

For he fancied himself a good example to children, if only because Peach frequently said this to him. Whenever Peach provided Mario with insight as to what, if anything, she found remarkable about him, Mario would take it extremely seriously. Good to know what things to dial up, you know.

Therefore, when Mario had been walking with Peach on one of their routine walk-and-chats, and they'd passed a little Toad child muttering and sniffling, Mario had ensured the conversation had gone as follows:

"Aw, hello, little one! Are you hurt?"

"I... I... I have Chinese homework and I don't wanna do iiiiiiiiiiit! Booooohoohoohoohoo!"

"Oh! I see? It's'a hard one?"

A sniffle. "Yeah... But mummy said I ca-ca-can't play video games until I do m-my homework... and I hate languages..."

"Well! I'm'a think languageses are super duper fun! I'm'a help you do your homework, okey dokey? We'll'a be done in'a no time!"

Had Mario been a little smarter about it, a little less eager to prove just what a good example he was, he might have instead offered a far less committal version of things. For instance, "you can do it! Oh yeah! Mario's'a believe in you!". Or a more candid "yes! Languageses are so hard! Ugh!".

But the child had been thrilled, that "Mario! Super Mario! Yippee! wants to help me with my homework! My friends are gonna be so jealous!", and thus Mario had plunged himself into helping this little child write a piece in a language neither of them spoke.

Chinese? Since when did anybody on this side of the universe speak Chinese? Since when did schools decide that children needed to learn Chinese?

He stared at the instructions again, almost holding the paper up to the sun as he, Peach and this little child sat on the grass - as though the Chinese characters were a redacting marker and the meaning would be visible if Mario held it to the light.

请你谈一谈对环境保护的看法。

"Ar'a'ya know what the question's'a say?" Mario asked.

The child sniffled. "No."

"You'r'a not talk about it in class?"

"I play on my DS in Chinese class." The child grabbed her feet and rolled over as she said this.

Mario was clever enough to say "oh! You should try ta-pay attention in class, okey dokey?", and not "I used to play on my calculator in English class too!".

Peach spoke, "well, it looks like it's about the environment!"

Both Mario and the child looked at her. "Oh?"

"Mhm!" She giggled, a little bit. "See, this looks like it says "environmental protection".

She pointed towards the part of the page that said 环境保护, and continued to the little girl, "well, maybe you haven't learned these ones in school yet, but this actually looks a bit similar to how we write it in our own language! I bet that's what it means!"

Mario tried very hard to remember what the characters for "environmental protection" looked like. Look - Mario did not need to write much of anything, and when he did, he could just use the alphabet if he didn't know what the character was. How embarrassing was it if he didn't know this one?

Peach had never, ever even so much as implied she found Mario's foreignness cringeworthy, nor did she ever say anything to the effect of "I wish you were more academic", so Mario nodded instead of saying anything to suggest he knew that.

He looked back at the little girl - she was only half listening, in that way most children do, and recognition somewhat tugged at him.

"Let's'a look at the rest," Mario tapped her on the shoulder lightly. "Ar'a'you know any more of these wordses?"

The child glanced at the paper and pointed to the second character. "That says "you"."

"You... Environmental protececection..." Mario stuttered. "Maybe it's'a, "how'r'a you protect the environment"!".

Chinese lessons and protecting the environment? Just how much of his homeworld was creeping up here, anyway?

"Hm... well..." The child stared into space, turning her head in random, unclear directions, the very epitome of her age, "I don't litter."

"How'r'a ya say "litter" in Chinese?"

"I don't know."

"Well," Mario smiled. "when I'm'a first come here, and I'm'a not know the language, I'm'a always work with what I can say! Even if it's'a short, or not exactly what I'm'a mean. And then you get better and better!"

The child looked at Mario with little to no interest.

"So, ah," Mario continued, "what can you say?"

"Um... I can say, my name is Toadie, and I am, eight years old." She said some syllables and, since "Toadie" was in there, Mario could only assume it was its translation.

"Can you say "I like" something?"

"Hm..." The girl said another three Chinese syllables. "Yes. But I can't write it."

"Maybe it's the same as in our language, too," Peach smiled again. "Can you write "like" in Japanese yet?"

Toadie nodded. "Gimme that."

She wrote something and handed it back to Mario.

我　好き　环境

Then she looked at Mario and Peach with wide, self-important eyes. "It says "I like the environment" in Chinese now."

"Ar'a'ya know any other words?"

"No."

"Then," Mario offered, "you should draw a little picture! That way the teacher's'a know what you'r'a want to say."

At this, Toadie seemed rather thrilled. She hastily yanked the paper back out of Mario's hand and started to attack it with the weapons in her pencil case. It looked like good fun, actually. And then she held up her homework with a radiant smile.

Mario had learned over time that it was ill-advised, when faced with an indecipherable drawing from a child, to ask "what's that?", lest they say, "DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS?". Here, however, he wouldn't have needed to do so. It was - clumsily, but clearly - the three of them, lounging on the grass, with hearts between them all. It certainly explained more than he or Peach or Toadie knew how to say in Chinese - even if, when he thought about it, it did not have anything to do with protecting the environment.

Oh well. She was eight. If he were the teacher, he would have expected about this much and little else.

"So my homework's done now?" Toadie said.

"I'm'a think so!" Mario grinned.

Peach was oddly quiet, and when Mario turned to make sure she had not suddenly vanished (you would be surprised, at the moments Bowser has picked over the years), he found her not in the process of being kidnapped but in the process of laughing silently to herself.

"Oh?"

Peach looked up and said softly, "sorry, sorry! Hahaha. That just reminded me of something."

Another thing I was joking about yesterday is that drawing is easier because you can just draw anything. Like for example. I wanted Mario to do my Chinese essay so I just drew him doing my Chinese essay. It just happened. i don't need to explain why this is happening. With writing Id have to have like, a whole setup. About why he's doing this and how he feels about it and all that shit. That's a lot of work like what if I just want it to happen

[kaeyachi]

Kaeyappreciation post!

Kaeya is wonderful in a sense that he:

Has a penmanship described as "Beautiful Handwriting". He for sure worked on that.

Willingly spends his time making sure his outfit looks perfect

Is well-loved by Mondstadt and the Dawn Winery staff

Is described to like a prince, both in looks and in actions

Is shown to be gentle and caring to children and elderly, most seen with Klee and the staff from Dawn Winery

Is a great listener and, therefore, also knows what gifts to buy based off of something someone said in passing

Is predominantly kind- unafraid to help out and defend someone in need. His first reaction is always kindness, and worry about covering up that kindness later on

But Kaeya also has his moments where he:

Says things out of pocket with enough alcohol in his system. Things that usually lead to shame and regret.

Would rather give others the credit for his hard work if he could help it

Intentionally makes himself look suspicious by withholding information and only throwing tidbits that are not of substance

Has sadist tendencies, which affects how he treats both his (cavalry) company and his enemies

Can and will use underhanded tactics to gain the upper hand

Rarely ever says what he truly wants to say

Has a fake smile. Usually lies or only deals with half truths.

He is such a complex character. I really do want people to appreciate him and his intricacies more. The fact that his entire personality and story is done so well and continues to actually grow and expand as the story progresses is something that genuinely makes me want to keep watch of him. I have never, in all my fandoms, stuck to a character as long as I did with Kaeya, and honestly? I know I'm not alone with this.

Look at how well they made our boy!

[altarplay]

i guess it's good to have confirmation that our best is everyone's elses mediocre. lack of effort. doesn't care enough. etc.

[solxamber]

And I Pick...

In which you choose the club that caught your eye

Part 1

After much contemplation you've finally decided to pick the:

Basketball Club

The basketball court was quiet for all of two seconds after you announced your decision.

Then Ace exploded.

"HA! I knew you’d pick us! I called it!" He was practically doing laps around the court, pointing at nothing in particular. "Ace Trappola: the ultimate recruiter, the club MVP, and now the guy who brought you on board! This is the best day of my life!"

"Eh, it’s about time," Floyd drawled, stretching lazily. "Took ya long enough to figure out where the fun is." His sharp-toothed grin widened. "Now we can play my version of full-contact basketball. Hehehe."

"Absolutely not," Jamil cut in, but Floyd wasn’t listening.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you’d been lifelong teammates. "If you survive the first practice, you’ll survive all the practices. Probably."

Ace jogged back over, breathless but triumphant. "I told you we’re the best club! No boring rules, no endless laps like in Deuce's lame track team, and best of all—" He struck a dramatic pose, arms wide. "You get to hang out with me every day!"

"Please don’t make them quit on the first week," Jamil muttered, giving you a look that seemed to say, Are you sure about this?

"Quit? Nahhh!" Ace grinned. "They’re gonna thrive here. I’ll even teach them my signature moves—like my no-look, backwards, mid-air layup."

"You can’t even do that," Jamil said flatly.

"Not yet," Ace shot back. "But it’s the thought that counts."

Floyd leaned in closer, his grin somehow growing wider. "You better keep up, shrimpy. Otherwise, I might have to… spice things up a little."

"Spice things up?" you echoed, immediately suspicious.

"He means doing things like replacing the basketballs with watermelons," Jamil deadpanned.

Ace snorted. "Or throwing the ball at the hoop so hard it breaks the backboard. Oh wait, that actually happened. Twice."

"It was fun," Floyd said, completely unrepentant.

Jamil sighed like a man who’d aged a decade in the last five minutes. But then, to your surprise, he turned to you and offered a small, genuine smile. "Still… I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to the team."

The words were simple, but coming from Jamil, they felt like a warm endorsement.

Ace clapped his hands together, clearly ready to move things along. "Alright, enough talking! Let’s get you on the court and see what you’ve got!"

"Or we could start slow," Jamil suggested, but Ace was already dragging you toward the center of the court, Floyd trailing behind with a basketball under one arm.

"Don’t worry," Floyd said, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly. "If ya mess up, we’ll just laugh at ya a little. No big deal~."

"No one’s laughing at anyone," Jamil said firmly, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ace threw an arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Ignore him. We’re gonna have a blast! First practice starts now!"

You weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourself into, but judging by their enthusiasm (and Floyd’s maniacal laughter), you were in for one chaotic ride.

Track and Field Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the track and field club, Deuce’s face lit up like someone had just told him he passed his midterms.

“You’re… really joining?” he asked, like he needed double confirmation. When you nodded, his grin widened, the kind that made him look both relieved and excited. “That’s awesome! Uh—welcome to the team! Seriously, it’s great to have you.” His usual earnestness shone through, and he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I’m still kind of learning the ropes, but we can figure things out together. It’s gonna be great!”

Jack, standing beside him, gave a firm nod of approval. “Good call. Track and field’s a solid choice. You’ll fit right in.” His tail wagged just enough to betray how happy he was, even if his tone stayed calm.

"Yeah!" Deuce agreed. “And, uh, don’t worry about keeping up or anything. It’s all about improving at your own pace. Right, Jack?”

“Sure,” Jack replied, glancing at you. Then he added, almost casually, “We’ll work on your stamina. You’re gonna need it.”

It took you a second to catch the faint glint in his eye, and then you remembered—oh no, the fridge comment. Jack had been disturbed ever since.

Deuce, oblivious to the subtext, chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s great at that stuff! He’s got this crazy endurance. Like, he can run forever. I’m still working on it, but, uh, you’re in good hands!”

Jack’s tail swished again. “Just be ready to push yourself. But don’t worry—we’ve got your back.”

“Exactly!” Deuce said, his fists clenching like he was ready to run a marathon right there. “This is gonna be awesome. I mean, not that it wasn’t already great, but now it’s even better. Right, Jack?”

Jack gave a small, satisfied smile. “Right.”

As they led you toward the field, you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d just signed up for. One thing was certain, though—Jack’s still thinking about that fridge, and he will make sure it’s not an issue anymore.

Board Game Club

The moment you declared your allegiance to the board game club, Azul adjusted his glasses, looking smugly pleased with himself, like he'd just negotiated the deal of the century.

"An excellent decision," he said, his voice as smooth as the perfectly polished board games stacked behind him. "With your addition to our club, I foresee a new golden age of strategic victories."

Idia, sitting half-hidden behind a pile of unopened game boxes, choked on his energy drink. "W-Wait, you’re serious? They actually chose us?" His hair flared a brilliant shade of pink for a moment before he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. "Th-this isn’t some prank, right? Like, I’m not gonna look up and see them bolting out the door laughing, right?"

"Nope," you replied with a grin. "I’m all in."

Ortho, ever the enthusiastic hype man, zipped into the room with his jet thrusters. "Welcome to the club! Now we have a full party for dungeon raids. This is amazing!"

Azul cleared his throat, waving a hand. "Ahem, while cooperative RPGs are certainly an option, I believe we should start with a game of strategy and wit to introduce them properly. Perhaps a round of Chess of Betrayal?"

Idia groaned, sinking further into his hoodie. "Ugh, that game takes, like, three hours. If you’re gonna scare them away, at least wait until they’re too deep in to quit. Why don’t we start with something easy, like Goblin King Gauntlet?"

Ortho clapped his hands. "Ooh, I love that one! It has a random trap mechanic! Let’s play that!"

Azul raised an eyebrow, his smile shark-like. "Trap mechanics are hardly a proper welcome. It would be far better to demonstrate the finer nuances of strategy, wouldn’t you agree?"

Idia muttered something about Azul turning everything into a power play, but you interrupted before they could spiral into a full-blown debate. "Honestly, I’m fine with anything. Just deal me in."

Azul’s smirk widened. "Very well, then. I shall prepare the game board. And don’t worry, I’ll make certain you’re fully equipped for our upcoming campaigns. You’ll find we offer more than just fun—we offer victory."

Idia peeked out from his hoodie, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto his face. "You’re not bad at this whole club thing. Maybe this won’t be so terrible."

As they started setting up the game, you felt an unexpected warmth. Sure, it was just a board game club, but there was something endearing about their chaotic enthusiasm.

Though one thing was clear—Azul would probably try to sell you game tokens at some point, and Idia would absolutely try to teach you how to min-max your dice rolls.

But hey, you were ready for it.

Film Studies Club

When you announced your decision to join the film studies club, Vil paused mid-sip of his herbal tea, one elegantly arched eyebrow rising. For a moment, he looked like he was considering whether he had heard you correctly. Then, with a practiced air of nonchalance, he set the teacup down.

"Hm. Acceptable," he said coolly, though his tone betrayed a slight uptick of satisfaction. "It’s rare to find someone with enough taste to appreciate the art of cinema. I suppose your presence will be… useful."

But the slight curl of his lips gave him away.

He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his coat, and gave you an appraising look. "We have much to discuss. If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to commit entirely—no half-measures, no excuses. The camera is unforgiving, and I have no intention of allowing this club to falter under subpar contributions."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he was already pacing, gesturing dramatically like the star of an avant-garde production. "Lighting, blocking, composition—they are all integral to creating art, not merely entertainment. I trust you won’t embarrass yourself, or me, for that matter."

Despite his words, you caught the faintest hint of pride in his gaze as he turned to face you fully. "And, if for some reason, acting isn’t your strength, there are other roles. Cinematography, set design, editing… Perhaps backstage work would suit you, should you fail the audition."

He didn’t say it to be harsh; this was Vil’s version of encouragement. And as he continued outlining the club’s vision—"a modern renaissance in storytelling"—you realized he was genuinely excited to have you there, even if he’d rather gargle poison than openly admit it.

Finally, he stopped and gave you a small, approving nod. "Welcome to the film studies club. Don’t make me regret this."

Translation: I’m glad you’re here.

Science Club

The moment you announced your decision to join the science club, Rook’s eyes lit up like you’d just declared him the ruler of the universe.

"Ah, mon ami! What a magnifique choice!" he exclaimed, sweeping you into a theatrical bow so deep you thought he might topple over. "You possess the soul of an explorer, a true seeker of knowledge! Together, we shall unlock the mysteries of nature and celebrate its beauty in all its forms!"

"Uh… don’t scare them off, Rook," Trey interjected, though he was smiling. He adjusted his apron, clearly relieved that you hadn’t bolted under Rook’s enthusiastic greeting. "We’re glad to have you. Really. It’s nice to have someone else around who won’t accidentally set the lab on fire."

You raised an eyebrow. "That’s a low bar."

Trey shrugged. "You’d be surprised how many fail to meet it."

Before you could respond, Rook was already spinning grand plans. "Imagine the adventures we will have! Scaling mountains, crafting elixirs, nurturing delicate blossoms—ah, the poetry of science!" He clasped his hands to his chest, radiating so much joy that you were worried he’d break into song.

Trey, ever the grounded one, sighed fondly. "What he means is: we do a little bit of everything. Growing plants, chemistry experiments, cooking—you’ll fit right in. Assuming Rook doesn’t scare you off first."

Rook turned to Trey with an exaggerated gasp, as if the very suggestion of him being overwhelming was the greatest insult he’d ever received. "Chevalier des Roses, how could you wound me so?" He turned back to you with a theatrical flourish. "Fear not! I shall be your guide, your companion, your—"

"Assistant," Trey cut in, giving you a knowing look. "We'll assist you. Don’t let him take over your projects."

You grinned, feeling oddly at home already. Between Rook’s boundless enthusiasm and Trey’s steadying presence, you realized the science club might just be the perfect balance of chaos and calm.

Pop Music Club

When you announced your decision to join the Pop Music Club, Lilia was the first to react. He shot up from his chair with a dramatic flourish, his cape—where did the cape come from?—billowing as if on cue.

"Ah, an excellent choice! Welcome to the most electrifying club in the entire school!" Lilia declared, his voice reverberating like an arena announcer. He played an imaginary riff on an air guitar, complete with sound effects that you were almost certain were magically amplified.

Kalim clapped his hands, beaming as brightly as the sun. "This is going to be so much fun! We can sing duets, make up dances, throw a party for every new song we write—oh! We should have a welcome party for you right now!" He was already halfway to grabbing balloons out of thin air before Cater stopped him.

"Easy there, Kalim," Cater said with a laugh, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. "We haven’t even started jamming yet! Gotta document this first—‘New Member Alert 🚨🎶! Welcome to the coolest club at NRC!’” He posed next to you, flipping through filters. "Ooh, should we do a pastel vibe or go all-out neon?"

"Why not both?" Lilia suggested, somehow holding a tambourine he hadn’t been holding two seconds ago. He shook it with gusto, the jingles creating an impromptu beat.

Kalim joined in instantly, dancing around the room with energy that could probably power a small city. "This is going to be amazing! Do you play any instruments? Can you sing? Or maybe you’ll write the songs? Wait, can you do all three?!"

Before you could answer, Lilia leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Don’t worry, even if you’re terrible, I can teach you. After all, I’ve had centuries of experience."

"Centuries of experience at what exactly?" you asked, though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted the answer.

"Everything," Lilia replied cryptically, shaking the tambourine once more for emphasis.

Cater gave you a wink. "Don’t let him intimidate you. He’s mostly harmless. Mostly."

As the chaos swirled around you, you realized joining the Pop Music Club was probably going to be as much about managing everyone’s energy as it was about making music.

But looking at their genuine excitement, you couldn’t help but feel you’d made the right choice. It was going to be loud, unpredictable, and—most importantly—a lot of fun.

Equestrian Club

When you chose the Equestrian Club, Riddle’s reaction was immediate and deeply Riddle. He straightened his posture, cleared his throat, and gave you a small but dignified nod, though his ears turned the faintest shade of pink.

“A wise decision,” he said primly, but his voice wavered just enough to give away his excitement. “The Equestrian Club values discipline and care, and I trust you will uphold those values. Welcome.” He paused, then added with uncharacteristic softness, “I’m glad you chose us.”

Sebek, on the other hand, reacted with his usual intensity, which was to say, very loudly.

“AS EXPECTED OF SOMEONE WITH DISCERNING TASTE!” Sebek bellowed, saluting for no discernible reason. “THE EQUESTRIAN CLUB IS A PLACE OF HONOR AND DILIGENCE. YOU HAVE MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE, AND I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, SHALL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOU MEET OUR HIGH STANDARDS!”

“You’re going to scare the horses,” Silver muttered, patting a dozing mare who didn’t even flinch at Sebek’s volume. Clearly, she’d built up an immunity.

Silver turned to you with a sleepy but genuine smile. “Welcome. It’ll be nice having another person around who actually seems calm. I’ll show you the best places to ride, and we’ll make sure you’re comfortable with the horses.”

“And with the rules,” Riddle interjected, already retrieving a stack of laminated pages. “Equestrian care is not something to take lightly. You’ll need to memorize these guidelines to ensure both your safety and that of the horses.”

Sebek leaned over your shoulder to inspect the stack and immediately saluted again. “AN EXCELLENT INITIATIVE, HOUSEWARDEN ROSEHEARTS! I, TOO, WILL MEMORIZE THESE IN CASE THEY EVER REQUIRE REINFORCEMENT!”

“I think they’re fine,” Silver said. “We don’t need to make this harder than it needs to be.”

Riddle frowned. “Standards exist for a reason, Silver. Though I appreciate your enthusiasm, perhaps we can—Sebek, stop shouting—perhaps we can go over the basics first before overwhelming them.”

As Riddle and Sebek debated, Silver handed you a carrot to feed one of the horses. “Don’t worry,” he said, as the horse happily munched away. “It’s not as intense as it seems. Usually.”

You glanced at the stack of rules in Riddle’s hand and the fervent look in Sebek’s eyes. It was definitely going to be an adjustment. But seeing how genuinely happy they all were to have you—yes, even Sebek—you felt like this would be worth it.

Magift Club

When you announced your decision to join the Magift Club as their manager, the reaction was instantaneous and… surprisingly chaotic.

Ruggie let out a whoop, immediately dropping to the floor in a mock bow. "Ayo, everyone, bow to the boss! Finally, someone who can keep this circus in line!"

Leona, lounging on the sidelines, cracked open an eye and smirked. “’Bout time. Herbivores usually flake out, but I knew you were better than the rest.” He stretched lazily, like he’d personally orchestrated your decision. “Just keep the snacks coming, and we’ll get along fine.”

Epel looked between them and grinned, his enthusiasm much more grounded. “It’s great to have ya! With you around, maybe Leona will actually show up to warmups... or not just sleep through it.” He shot a pointed glance at their captain, who was, of course, ignoring him entirely.

“Eh,” Leona drawled, flicking his tail dismissively.

“You could work on that attitude,” you muttered, earning a low chuckle from him.

“See, I told you they’d fit right in!” Ruggie said, gesturing at you dramatically. “They’re already roasting him. This is gonna be great!”

Epel, suddenly inspired, added, “And they’ll keep Ruggie from stealing the fresh apple juice we get after games. That’s worth it alone.”

As the reality of your new role settled in, you felt a bit like a lion tamer walking into a den of mischievous cubs and one very lazy big cat. But their enthusiasm—expressed in their own peculiar ways—was endearing.

Ruggie threw an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, boss, first order of business: snacks! Let’s discuss our game day budget and whether I can convince you to sneak me a sandwich before practice.”

Leona snorted but didn’t argue, which you took as a sign of approval. Epel pumped his fist. “We’re gonna crush it this year!”

Maybe managing this bunch wouldn’t be so bad after all. If nothing else, it’d definitely be entertaining.

Mountain Lovers Club

When you joined Jade for a hike to "test the waters" of the Mountain Lovers Club, you had your doubts. You were prepared for a lot of things—maybe getting lost in the wilderness, maybe Jade pulling out his eerie cryptid knowledge, or maybe just a weirdly formal lecture about moss. What you weren’t prepared for was… actually enjoying yourself.

Jade led the way with an unhurried confidence, pointing out various wild plants, their uses, and fun facts about the environment. He wasn’t his usual enigmatic self, either. He seemed lighter, almost enthusiastic, as he described a tiny wildflower you would’ve missed entirely.

“This particular species only blooms during the autumn months,” he said, crouching to show you. “Quite fascinating how it adapts to the cooler temperatures, don’t you think?”

You nodded, trying not to stare too hard at how his face lit up when he spoke. Jade was… cute? When he wasn’t talking about mushrooms in a way that made you question your mortality, he was actually kind of charming.

By the time you reached a rocky outcrop with a gorgeous view of the campus, you realized you’d been smiling for most of the hike. Jade noticed too.

“It seems I’ve made a decent impression,” he said, turning toward you with a soft grin. “I’m pleased to see you enjoying yourself.”

“It’s… relaxing,” you admitted, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t think it’d be this fun.”

Jade tilted his head. “Does that mean you’d consider joining the Mountain Lovers Club?”

You hesitated for a moment, but as you looked at the breathtaking view and the rare, genuine smile on his face, the answer came easily. “Yeah. I’ll join.”

For a split second, Jade’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly schooled his expression into his usual composed smile. “Wonderful. I must say, I wasn’t expecting this outcome, but I’m glad. It’s not every day someone sees the beauty in what I love.”

There was an odd warmth in his voice that made your heart skip a beat. As he turned to lead the way back, he added, “Now that we’re a team, I look forward to our next adventure.”

Jade Leech was genuinely happy. And, you realized, so were you.

Gargoyle Research Society

When you told Malleus you were joining the Gargoyle Research Society, his reaction was almost imperceptible at first. A slight widening of his eyes, a pause as though he was waiting to see if you were serious, and then—pure, unfiltered delight.

"You have an interest in gargoyles?" he asked, his voice both surprised and reverent, as if you'd just confessed to enjoying a rare and ancient art form.

You nodded. "Yeah. I think they're fascinating. The designs, the history… They’re like stone guardians with stories etched into them."

For a moment, Malleus simply looked at you, his emerald eyes shimmering like the light of distant stars. Then, as if unable to contain his joy, he smiled—a soft, genuine expression that sent a wave of warmth through the chilly Ramshackle evening.

"This pleases me greatly," he said, his tone unusually light. “Not many share my appreciation for gargoyles. Often, I speak of them, and others… how do I put it? Pretend to listen.”

“Well, I’m definitely not pretending,” you said, grinning. “I’m in for real.”

Malleus clasped his hands together in what could only be described as regal excitement. "Then I must share something with you. Sometimes, I create gargoyles myself."

“You what?” you asked, laughing in delight.

“Yes,” he replied earnestly, his eyes alight. “Carving stone requires patience, but there is a certain satisfaction in breathing life into something lifeless. Well, not literal life, of course, but a soul of sorts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the image of Malleus with a chisel and hammer popping into your head. “I never would have guessed. That’s… really cool.”

“I can show you some of my creations, if you’d like,” he offered, almost shyly.

“I’d love that,” you said, genuinely glad to have joined him. “I think I’m going to enjoy this club.”

The glow in his expression was impossible to miss. It wasn’t just that you had joined his club—it was that, for once, someone truly shared his passion. “And I am glad to have you,” he said softly.

In that moment, under the watchful eyes of the stone guardians scattered around campus, it felt like you had chosen exactly the right place.

Masterlist

tags: @techno-danger

a/n: it completely slipped my mind that ortho is a part of film studies sorry :(

[kthologue]

if there was one thing at the tokyo jujutsu tech branch that would send the kyoto branch into a coma, it was the shameless pda. gojo satoru was a man in love — and absolutely nothing could stop him from broadcasting it, no matter how obscene it might seem.

where utahime ran her students with silent, disciplined rigor, gojo thrived in chaos. in fact, the tokyo campus always seemed to hum with the sheer force of his enthusiasm alone.

today was hand-to-hand combat training again. you stood at the sidelines, arms crossed, observing as your second years sparred with the first years — dominating them so well that you hardly needed to step in.

a familiar presence drifted up behind you. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. your husband had an uncanny talent for finding you exactly when he was supposed to be doing anything else.

“new uniform?” he whistled, low and appreciative. even with his blindfold, you could feel his gaze dragging over you. “seriously, it should be illegal for you to look this good during work hours.”

you didn’t answer, trying your best to steer him back to work by simply not engaging. after much trial and error, you’d discovered that ignoring him was the most effective method.

predictably, gojo pouted when you didn’t respond. then, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek.

“you know,” his voice drops lower, silkier — the kind of tone he thinks is persuasive. “the students are so busy right now. they won’t even notice if we sneak off to my office and have some fun.”

“satoru,” you warn, already bracing yourself.

he grins like a fox. “it’ll just be ten minutes.”

“you say that every time,” you mutter, shooting him a sidelong look. “it is never just ten minutes.”

“boo,” he pouts, blowing a dramatic raspberry before slinging an arm around your waist with zero hesitation. “you’re being so cruel to a man in love.”

“satoru—”

but he’s already nuzzling his face into the side of your neck, his blindfold grazing your jaw as he whines, “just one kiss, then. one kiss and i’ll go right back to doing paperwork.”

you sigh, pretending to resist — but you lean into him all the same.

of course, one kiss turns into two. then three. then gojo is spinning you around, arms wrapped around your waist as he dips you in the middle of the training field.

“don’t make me get a spray bottle,” megumi grumbles, sparking a chorus of laughter from the others.

gojo just beams as he pulls you back up, shameless and unbothered. “sorry, can’t help it! my wife’s too hot for me to act normal.”

you swat his chest, cheeks warm. “you’re the worst.”

“and yet, you still married me,” he says, kissing the tip of your nose.

“only because you tricked me into it.”

he grins, “one of my greatest accomplishments.”

[areislol]

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎"WANT A (HERSHEY) KISS?" — with JJK men

pairings. satoru gojo, suguru geto, choso, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, ryomen sukuna, yuta okkotsu x gn! reader

warnings. all sweet mushy stuff, fluff, can be seen as an established relationship or mutual crushing. geto is written to be taller than you (sorry to all my tall ladies), sukuna calls reader "human" (his weird little pet name.), characters might be ooc.

a/n. i overheard my friend ask my best friend if she wanted a kiss and i immediately thought about this hershy kiss idea.

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎synopsis. asking the jjk men if they want a kiss, but not that kind of kiss.

wordcount. 3.4k

— satoru gojo

gojo straightens up, his posture suddenly becoming theatrically grand. he places a hand dramatically over his heart, his eyes wide with mock seriousness as he gazes deeply into yours.

“oh, you have no idea what you’ve just unleashed,” he declares, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i’m more than ready for your kiss!”

with a flourish, he takes a step back. he raises his other hand to his forehead as if swooning, his usual confident smirk replaced by an exaggerated look of faux vulnerability.

“oh, how could i have known today would be the day? the day my heart would finally be captured by an unexpected proposal!”

he lowers himself slightly as if preparing for the grand finale of some romantic play, his eyes never leaving yours.

you quirked an eyebrow, confused by your gojo's reaction. he takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of resolute determination. "what—"

“i accept your kiss with all the fervour of a thousand lifetimes!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a dramatic crescendo.

before you can react, he swoops in closer, closing his eyes as if truly expecting a romantic kiss. his lips are slightly puckered, and he holds the pose for a moment, the room filled with anticipation of his over-the-top performance.

"....what are you doing..." is all you manage to say while staring at gojo like he was a madman. at your words, he lets out a faint "huh" before peeking with one eyes open. you cocked your head to the side, reaching your palm out with a... hershey's kiss?

gojo's eyes travel between your face and the chocolate treat on your palm. both his eyes open as he resumes his old posture. "what's that?" he asks, confused. where was his kiss?

you nudge him with your hand, "take it, it's the kiss." you responded. there was a pregnant pause as gojo felt his soul being crushed and crumbling away.

he pouts as he usually does when things don't go his way. "so i won't be getting the kiss?" his expression shifts to one of exaggerated disappointment.

“you won't be getting any kiss other than the chocolate kiss in the palm of my hands! if you don't want it then just say it, i'll give it to someone else.”

gojo immediately felt a stab to his heart at your words. "so... no kiss..?" he asked once more, pushing his luck a bit too much. you turned around, beginning to walk over to maki.

"wait wait wait! no— wait! i'll take the kiss, come back! i thought we had something special!!"

safe to say gojo chased you around the courtyard wanting that kiss so badly. (p.s. he never got it)

— suguru geto

he looks up from his tea, his eyebrows raising slightly in mild surprise. his calm demeanour doesn’t waver, but you can see a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

“a kiss?” he repeats, setting down his cup with a gentle clink. “well, that’s unexpected.”

his eyes scan your face, you approached him with a playful smile, unbeknownst to him, holding a small hershey’s kiss hidden in your hand.

his response is measured, his tone light yet sincere. there’s a slight tilt of his head as he considers your offer, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. his curiosity is clearly piqued.

“are you sure you want to do this right now?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

you can see the gears turning in his mind. he stands up gracefully, his tall frame now towering over you slightly. his presence is both calming and commanding, and he steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

“if you’re offering, who am i to refuse?” he says, his voice soft and gentle, yet with a hint of playfulness.

as he leans in, his eyes close slightly, and his movements are slow and deliberate. his face is inches from yours, his lips poised as if expecting a tender kiss on the cheek or lips.

his breath is warm against your skin, just as his lips are about to meet yours, you can’t hold it in any longer. you burst out laughing, the sound breaking the tension. geto’s eyes snap open, and he pulls back slightly, a look of mild confusion and surprise on his face.

“wait, suguru,” you manage to say between giggles, holding up the small, foil-wrapped hershey’s kiss. “i meant hershey’s kiss!”

geto blinks, taking in the sight of the tiny chocolate in your hand. for a moment, he’s taken aback, his calmness cracking just enough to show his genuine surprise. then, a slow smile spreads across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.

“oh, i see,” he says, chuckling softly, the sound low and rich. “you got me there.”

his surprise melts into good-natured acceptance as he reaches out to take the hershey’s kiss from your hand, his fingers brushing yours gently.

“i should have known there was a twist,” he says, his tone filled with amusement. he unwraps the chocolate with ease, the foil crinkling softly as he reveals the sweet treat inside.

“well, i can’t say no to chocolate,” he continues, popping the hershey’s kiss into his mouth with a graceful motion. “but i might still want that other kiss later.”

you shake your head, still laughing, "you’re too much, suguru.”

he smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that’s what makes life interesting,” he replies, his tone affectionate. “you always manage to keep me on my toes.”

geto leans in slightly, his expression turning more playful, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. “but just so you know, i'm expecting a real kiss next time,” he says softly, his voice filled with a gentle warmth that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “no more tricks.”

you nod, your smile matching his. “alright.”

— choso

choso’s dark eyes widen slightly, and he looks at you in surprise.

his usually stoic demeanour softened by your unexpected offer. choso blinked in surprise, his dark eyes widening gradually. "a kiss?" he spoke, uncertain of what he had heard. "from you?"

your playful smile widened a fraction as you nodded. "that's if you really want one," you replied.

choso's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of happiness crossing his features. he continued to sit down on the chair, his eyes, usually so guarded, were fixed on yours with anticipation.

"well since you asked," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded again, containing your joy as you held out the small chocolate treat. but choso, his attention solely on you, didn't notice your extended hand.

instead, he leaned in a fraction closer, his breath brushing against your cheek as he waited expectantly.

time seemed to slow, the air thick with anticipation. and then, as he continued to wait, you couldn't hold back any longer. with a gentle chuckle, you revealed the hershey's kiss, holding it between your fingers.

"wait, choso," you said, your voice soft. "i meant a hershey's kiss."

for a fleeting moment, confusion clouded choso's eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed your words. the disappointment that followed was palpable, a subtle shift in his demeanour as he withdrew slightly, his gaze dropping to the chocolate in your hand.

"oh," he murmured quietly, a faint flush colouring his cheeks. "i see. i misunderstood."

regret tinged your amusement now, your heart squeezing at the sight of his crestfallen expression. you held onto whatever you could to stop yourself from apologising (despite it not being your fault in the first place) but his saddened face had a deadly grip on your aching heart.

letting out a soft sigh, you decide to make up for this misunderstanding. "i'll make it up to you," you promised, offering him the hershey's kiss with a gentle smile.

he looks back at you, his eyes searching yours for lord knows what. you step closer, closing the distance between you. “here,” you say softly, holding the hershey’s kiss in one hand and reaching up to gently cup his cheek with the other. “you can have both.”

you lean in and place a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. as you pull back, you see the love in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"how was the kiss?"

"amazing."

— yuji itadori

yuji sat relaxed on the couch, flipping through a magazine with casual interest before you asked him the question.

he looked up from his magazine, his expression momentarily puzzled before a flicker of curiosity crossed his face. "a kiss?" he repeated as his head cocked to the side, intrigued.

"yeah," you continued, your smile widening as you extended the small chocolate towards him. "i thought you might like one."

a hint of confusion lingered on yuji's features as he accepted the chocolate from you. "oh, thanks!" he exclaimed, unwrapping the chocolate with a grin. he popped it into his mouth, savouring the sweetness with an appreciative nod.

however, as he finished the chocolate, his gaze turned back to you with a playful look on his face. "that was good," he remarked casually, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

"but you know, i was actually hoping for a different kind of kiss."

you couldn't help but laugh softly at his playful teasing, feeling a warmth spread through you at his easygoing nature. "oh really?" you replied teasingly, pretending to consider his request. "what kind of kiss were you hoping for?"

yuji's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "hmm, how about…" he trailed off, leaning in closer with a twinkle in his eye.

before he could finish his sentence, you leaned in swiftly and gently kissed his warm cheek. his skin was soft against your lips, radiating a faint warmth.

yuji blinked in surprise, his hand instinctively touching his cheek where your lips had just been.

"like that?" you asked with a playful smirk, teasing him lightly.

yuji chuckled softly, his cheeks dusted with a faint blush. "yeah," he admitted, his voice softening. "that was nice."

the room fell into a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound ease. yuji glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"thanks for the chocolate, and the kiss," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. you shake your head, "it's fine, i enjoyed the kiss."

yuji immediately brightens up at your words before speaking. "can i get another kiss?" he looks at you with those pleading, puppy eyes. ugh. you let out a soft sigh and nod. "of course, on the cheek or lips?"

"lips please!"

— megumi fushiguro

he pauses. did he hear you correctly? a kiss? why now, as he's training? did you need to distract him after doing something wrong (you had a tendency to do that)? thousands of thoughts whirled around in his head.

"a... a kiss?" he repeated, his voice betraying a hint of confusion and something else—perhaps a flicker of vulnerability.

you nodded, feeling giddy for absolutely no reason. "yeah, a kiss. what do you think?"

for a moment, megumi seemed to be at a loss for words. he glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone else was watching, then looked back at you.

"why are you asking me that?" he said, his voice low and slightly nervous.

you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his reaction. "just answer the question, megumi. do you want one or not?"

his cheeks took on a faint tint of pink, a sight that made your heart skip a beat. he struggled with his thoughts for a moment before he finally nodded, his gaze steady on yours. "sure," he said quietly.

you pulled the small hershey's kiss from your pocket and held it out to him. "here," you said, waiting for him to take the treat.

megumi stared at the chocolate in your hand, his expression shifting from confusion to realization and then to mild embarrassment. he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking his head with a wry smile.

"oh, yeah. thanks," he muttered, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed by the thought that he would actually be getting a different type of kiss.

your eyes focus solely on megumi as he stares at the chocolate in your hand. he seemed disappointed but tried his best to hide it, but he knew better.

"you look disappointed. why?"

there goes your attentiveness.

"nothing's wrong. i just thought that.." he paused, taking the chocolate and unwrapping it, popping it into his mouth. your brows raised at his abrupt pause, indicating for him to go on.

you wait for him to finish the chocolate, and when he does you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. he seems to consider something for a moment, his eyes growing more contemplative.

megumi let out a soft sigh, eyes downcast as if embarrassed to say whatever he was about to say. "if..." he began slowly, "i was hoping that you would give me the other kind of kiss,"

his words took you by surprise, and you felt a warm flush creep up your cheeks. "oh?" you replied, your heart fluttering at his unexpected words (though you haven't fully comprehended it yet). after a few seconds, the realisation hit. "OHHH!! was that the type of kiss you were expecting?"

"shut up."

— kento nanami

nanami raised an eyebrow, curiosity was evident on his face. "a kiss?" he repeated. you nod your head.

"yes, a kiss. what do you say?"

he studied your face for a moment, his sharp eyes searching for any hint of a joke. but seeing your expression, he relaxed. "alright," he said with a small, gentle smile.

"i suppose i could indulge."

to your surprise, nanami stood up and closed the distance between you with a few steps. gently, he cupped your face in his warm, calloused hand. leaning in, he placed a small, chaste kiss on your forehead, his lips soft against your skin.

"there," he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "now you can give me a kiss."

your heart fluttered wildly in your chest, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. you fumbled for a moment, holding up the small hershey's kiss that had been concealed in your grip.

"i-i meant this kiss," you stammered, your voice flustered. "but this works too."

nanami's eyes flicked to the chocolate in your hand, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "ah, i see," he said, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "a hershey's kiss."

he took the small chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with practised ease, he popped the chocolate into his mouth, savouring the sweetness. "delicious," he remarked, his gaze never leaving yours.

you couldn't help but laugh, still feeling flustered by his actions as you shook your head. "i didn't expect you to actually kiss me like that," you admitted, a grin creeping onto your face, tugging at the corner of your lips.

nanami's smile widened slightly, a gentle warmth in his eyes. "you asked if i wanted a kiss," he said simply. "i saw no reason to decline."

— ryomen sukuna

the room was thick with tension as the king of curses lounged on his throne-like seat, his piercing red eyes flickering with a dangerous mix of boredom and disdain.

the king of curses rarely indulged in the mundane pleasantries of human interaction, yet when it comes to you, it becomes tolerable.

you approached him, chocolate clutched in your hand. "hey, sukuna," you called out, trying to keep your voice steady.

he shifted his gaze towards you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "what is it, human?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.

taking a deep breath, you mustered your courage and offered him a tentative smile. "do you want a kiss?"

for a moment, sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, a mocking scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "a kiss?"

"i don't want your disgusting lips on mine, or on my skin at all. foul. don't you ever ask me that stupid question ever again."

you let out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. "i didn't mean that kind of kiss," you said softly, revealing the small chocolate in your hand. "i meant a hershey's kiss."

sukuna's eyes flicked to the chocolate, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—passed through his gaze. he snatched the chocolate from your hand, unwrapping it with a sneer.

"pathetic," he muttered, popping the sweet treat into his mouth. he chewed slowly, his expression shifting from contempt to thoughtful consideration as he continued to chew.

you observed him, noticing the subtle change in his face. despite his harsh words, there was a part of him that seemed to enjoy the small gesture, though, he'd rather allow himself to be killed than admit his feelings.

after swallowing the chocolate, sukuna's eyes returned to yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "that was tolerable," he admitted grudgingly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "is there anything else?"

you shake your head. "no... what else would you want?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

he leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "another type of kiss," he said, his tone both commanding and taunting. "show me if you dare."

you hesitated, the weight of his demand on your heart. his earlier insult still lingered in your mind, but there was something in his gaze—a challenge, a test—that compelled you to step forward.

sukuna's eyes gleamed with a predatory anticipation as you drew closer. when your lips brushed against his cheek, his skin was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to his cold behaviour.

the kiss was brief, a soft and tentative gesture that seemed to surprise even him. as you pulled back, you searched his face for a reaction. sukuna was silent, his expression neutral. then, a slow, almost imperceptible smile spread across his lips—a smile that was equal parts dangerous and intrigued.

"not bad," he murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. "perhaps you're not as foolish as i thought."

sukuna's eyes darkened, his smirk widening slightly. "don't think this changes anything," he warned, his voice regaining its edge. "but i might tolerate your presence a bit longer."

— yuta okkotsu

yuta's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink almost immediately. he seemed caught off guard by your question, his book slowly slipping from his grasp as he tried to process your words.

"a-a kiss?" he stammered, his voice shaky. "you mean… like… a real kiss?"

you couldn't help but chuckle softly at his flustered reaction. "yes, a kiss," you spoke, watching as his blush deepened.

his mind seemed to be racing, a mix of confusion and excitement flashing in his eyes. "i… well… um… sure?" he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

he looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly trying to gather his composure.

you held out the small hershey's kiss, the silver foil catching the fading sunlight. "i meant this kiss," you said softly, a knowing smile on your face (yuta was always very easy to read).

yuta stared at the chocolate in your hand, his blush was still prominent but now mixed with a look of realization and slight embarrassment. "oh," he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing a bit. he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "o-oh! yeah, totally—a chocolate kiss."

you handed him the chocolate, watching as he took it from you with a shy smile. "yeah, a chocolate kiss," you confirmed, your voice gentle.

as yuta unwrapped the chocolate, he glanced up at you with a sheepish grin. "i thought you meant the other kiss," he admitted, popping the treat into his mouth.

after a while, yuta turned to you, his blush returning slightly. "do you think you can give me another kiss?"

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt your own cheeks warming. "you mean like the physical kiss? not the chocolate" you replied softly, already knowing the answer. he nodded, feeling a little nervous. "yeah. i mean… if you feel like it. no pressure of course!!"

you smiled, laughing softly. "i'll keep that in mind," you said gently. "you're too sweet."

yuta's smile widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "you're the one that's sweet here," he replied, his voice soft and filled with warmth.

rika is fuming right now

a/n: divider credits @/v6que // my first-ish post for jjk ^-^ if there are any pronouns other than GN please tell me, either in messages or on this post! thank you for reading 💕

[m4rv3l-girl]

Slowly…

Bucky and Y/N have been dating for a while, but have yet to explore anything more intimate than making out like teenagers. Maybe things will change when Bucky finally faces his fears.

Warnings: smut. Oral f!recieving. Protected p in v sex. Slight fear of intimacy. Touch starved Bucky?

The hum of the Stark Tower HVAC system was basically white noise.

Bucky Barnes sat sprawled across the couch, one arm looped loosely around Y/N’s shoulders, the other cradling a steaming mug of chamomile tea. Both of them contently sleepy. The windows stretched tall across the living room wall, casting gold-tinged light from the setting sun over the exposed brick and sleek furniture, remnants of Tony’s compulsive over-design.

Y/N, nestled into Bucky’s side with a blanket tugged over both of their legs, sighed softly. Her head was tucked perfectly beneath his chin, like it belonged there. Bucky liked that. He liked that a lot more than he’d ever admit aloud. Especially since Sam would absolutely never let him live it down if he caught wind of Bucky Barnes being the little spoon. Again.

“You know,” Y/N said, voice low and thoughtful, “you’re actually not as terrifying as everyone makes you out to be.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, lifting his mug in mock salute. “Thanks, doll. I’ll make sure to update my LinkedIn.”

She laughed against his chest, the sound vibrating into his sternum and tugging a rare, genuine smile from him. “No, seriously. You’re... sweet. You hold the door open. You bring me coffee just the way I like it. You’re weirdly obsessed with The Great British Bake Off.”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Oh, come on. You cried when Rahul won.”

He groaned, tilting his head back against the couch and covering his face with the vibranium hand. “I didn’t cry. I just - had feelings. That’s normal. Rahul is a very talented man.”

“You’re soft.”

“I’m six feet tall and made of war crimes.”

She snorted. “You’re my soft war crime.”

“Jesus Christ.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. The kind that only came after months of slow trust-building, of soft confessions over late-night tea, of tentative hand-holding and the quiet awe in Bucky’s eyes when she didn’t flinch away from the cold press of metal fingers. It wasn’t perfect, Bucky still had nights where he woke up gasping, sweat-soaked and angry at ghosts only he could see, but Y/N never left. Never treated him like he was broken or dangerous. Just… human.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed being seen as human until she came along.

“You ever think about…” Y/N began, then paused, fingers tracing idle shapes along his thigh. “Us. Like, going further?”

Bucky blinked, the words taking a second to register through the sleepy haze.

“Further?”

She tilted her head to glance up at him, cheeks flushed. “Yeah. Like… more than just kissing on your couch and pretending we don’t both want more.”

Oh.

Bucky’s breath hitched, but not from discomfort. Not exactly. More like the entire world had suddenly gone still and very, very focused.

He’d thought about it. Of course he had. He was a hundred and six years old, not dead.

But there was always a wall. Not one she had built. Y/N had never rushed him, but one he’d carried with him since Hydra carved up his mind like Thanksgiving turkey. Intimacy meant vulnerability. And vulnerability had always gotten him hurt or used.

“I do think about it,” he said finally, voice soft. “All the time, actually.”

Y/N shifted slightly, giving him room to see her expression. She looked open. Patient. Like she wasn’t expecting anything except honesty. That helped. That grounded him.

“But I also think about messing it up,” he admitted. “I think about what if I freeze up? Or what if I have some flashback in the middle of it and ruin everything?”

“You wouldn’t ruin anything,” she said immediately. “You could never ruin this.”

He wanted to believe her. Hell, part of him already did. But old instincts didn’t die easily. He reached for her hand with his metal one, letting their fingers twine together. That felt real. Solid.

“I guess I just need to know you’re okay with taking it slow. That you don’t feel like you’re waiting for me to turn into someone else.”

Y/N’s smile was soft and fierce all at once. “Bucky, I didn’t fall for the Winter Soldier. I fell for the guy who leaves sticky notes on the fridge reminding me to drink water. Who calls Sam ‘bird brain’ like it’s a love language. Who watched all three Lord of the Rings movies with me even though he thought Frodo should’ve just used the eagles.”

“Don’t tell me I was wrong.”

She laughed, then leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay with slow. I’m okay with whatever pace you want. I’m here because I want you.”

Bucky let out a slow breath, tension he hadn’t realized he was holding bleeding from his shoulders. “Okay,” he murmured. “Then yeah. Maybe we take that step. Sometime soon.”

A beat.

The quiet stretched out like a warm blanket, thick with anticipation. Bucky’s thumb traced the line of her knuckles, and the room felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He knew he could say no. He knew she’d understand. But the way she said it - so gentle, so earnest - he couldn’t find the words to refuse.

“Soon,” she murmured, reading the hesitation in his eyes. “Whenever you’re ready. I just - I want you to know that I’m here. That I want to be there for you, every step of the way.”

Bucky nodded, his throat tight with emotions he hadn’t let himself feel in so long. It was strange, this feeling of safety, of belonging. It didn’t sit easily with him, but it was growing more familiar with every beat of her heart against his side. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“You make it easier, doll,” he said finally. “You make a lot of things easier.”

Y/N leaned into him, her arm curling around his waist. Her hair smelled faintly of coconut shampoo and mint toothpaste. The scent was comforting, like home.

“I’ll always be here for you, you know that,” she whispered, her breath warm against his neck. “For all the hard parts. And the easy ones too. For the baking shows and the bad jokes and the quiet nights just like this one. I’m all in, Bucky. Whatever it takes to help you feel whole again.”

The weight of her words settled into his chest, nestling in alongside his beating heart. It was a heavy burden, but somehow, with her, it felt lighter.

They watched the light change outside the window, the sky deepening into shades of purple and pink. The sounds of the city grew distant, swallowed up by their shared warmth. Bucky’s arm tightened around her, pulling her closer, and she curled into him, her hand coming to rest over his heart.

It was a promise. A silent vow.

He took a sip of his now lukewarm tea and sighed, the warmth of her against him a stark contrast to the cold metal of his arm. It was moments like these that made him feel alive, made him realize that maybe, just maybe, he could have a life beyond the shadows of his past.

“What’s the first thing you’d wanna do?” he asked, turning to look at her. Her eyes searched his, looking for any signs of doubt or fear. But all she’d find was the truth. The reality was that, at present, their sex life was non-existent.

Y/N thought for a moment, her expression softening into a smile. “I don’t mind….what would you want to do..?” She didn’t want to commit to something that he wasn’t comfortable with.

Bucky considered this.

"I just want to be with you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I want to hold you, and kiss you, and just… explore. Nothing crazy, just… us. Getting to know each other that way."

Her smile grew, lighting up the room even as the shadows grew longer. "That sounds perfect," she whispered.

The air was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with desire. He could feel the pulse of her heart beneath her palm, and he knew she felt his too, a steady rhythm that grew stronger with every breath they took together.

They sat for a while longer, just watching the day turn to night. Bucky's mind raced with the possibilities of what this could mean for them, but he forced himself to stay present, to enjoy the simplicity of their entwined fingers and the warmth of her body.

Eventually, Y/N sat up, her hand slipping away from his heart to rest on his cheek. She turned to face him, her eyes searching his, looking for any trace of doubt. But all she found was a man who was ready to take the next step.

“Okay,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s go slow. We’ll figure it out together. No pressure, just us getting to know each other more intimately. I’m here, Bucky. We’re in this together, remember?”

Bucky nodded, his pulse quickening at the thought of what lay ahead. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to be this open with someone, to let go of the fear that had become second nature. But with her, it felt possible.

They stood up, and he set the mug of tea down on the side table with a gentle clink. Y/N reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. She led him to the bedroom, her movements sure and unhurried.

The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn just enough to allow the fading light to cast a soft glow over the bed. Bucky felt his heart rate spike as she turned to face him, her gaze never wavering from his own. She stepped closer, her hand sliding up to his chest, then around to his neck.

Her touch was tentative at first, a gentle question. But as Bucky leaned into it, she grew bolder, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, her thumb brushing against his lower lip. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, and she leaned in to capture his mouth in a kiss that was sweet and full of promise.

Her other hand slid down his side, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the heat between them growing with every second. The kiss deepened, and he felt the first stirrings of something he’d almost forgotten - desire, untainted by fear or duty.

When they broke apart, panting slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to find her smiling up at him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. He watched as she lifted it over her head, revealing the soft curves of her body.

He took a deep breath, his metal hand hovering over her bare skin for a moment before he let it rest gently on her waist.

Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for the answer to the unspoken question. Bucky nodded, his decision made.

They moved in unison, Bucky helping her to remove the rest of her clothing, his movements slow and careful, as if handling something fragile and precious. Each piece of clothing that fell away revealed more of her, and with it, a part of her soul that he hadn't seen before. Her trust in him was palpable, a silent demand that he not break her. And he knew, with a sudden fierceness, that he never would.

Her skin was warm under his touch, and she shivered as he traced the outline of her collarbone with his thumb. He felt his own heart racing, a thunderous beat that echoed in his ears.

They lay down on the bed, the mattress giving slightly under their combined weight.

Her eyes never left his, the same gentle expression on her face that had been there since the moment she’d brought it up. He felt the pressure of her hand, the softness of her skin, and the way her breath hitched as he kissed her again, his metal fingers brushing against the softness of her stomach. It was a strange sensation, this mix of cold and warm, of hard and soft, of past and present.

Bucky’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but he pushed them aside, focusing only on the here and now. He didn’t want to think about the past, didn’t want to ruin this moment with the specter of his former life. This was about them, about what they were choosing to build together.

He leaned over her, pressing tender kisses along her neck and collarbone, feeling the thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. Her skin was like silk, and her scent was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and vanilla that he’d come to associate with home. Her breathy sighs were music to his ears, each one a silent encouragement to explore further.

Her fingers danced over his shoulders, her nails lightly scraping against his skin as she guided him closer, urging him to explore. His heart hammered in his chest, a reminder of the life he had reclaimed, the humanity he had fought to keep.

Their kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if they were both trying to convey the depth of their feelings without words. Bucky’s hand traveled up her side, feeling the curve of her hip, the softness of her skin, the warmth that emanated from her core. He was acutely aware of every touch, every breath, the way she arched into his mouth when he kissed her just right. It was as if he was mapping out a new territory, one that was uncharted and full of wonder.

The room was filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the rustle of fabric, the quiet sighs that escaped their lips. Y/N’s hand slipped under his shirt, her fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. He stilled for a moment, waiting, but she didn’t pull away.

Bucky felt something unlock inside of him, a door that had been sealed shut for so long he’d almost forgotten it was there. It was a rush of sensation, of need, that made his head spin and his heart race. He kissed her again, harder this time, his hand sliding down to the small of her back, pressing her closer.

Y/N’s legs parted, inviting him in, and Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never been this intimate with someone who knew all of him, who had seen the darkest corners of his soul and chosen to stay. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He took a moment to breathe, to steady himself. He didn’t want to rush this, didn’t want to scare her away with his intensity. But when he pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire, matching the pulse in his veins. She didn’t look scared. She looked hungry.

They moved together in a dance that was both new and familiar, their bodies speaking a language that didn’t require words. He felt the heat of her skin, the softness of her curves, the way she molded against him as if they’d been made for this. It was a revelation, a reminder that he was more than the sum of his parts.

Bucky’s hand slid up her thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of her underwear. He felt her shiver and knew that she was just as ready as he was. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. This was it. The moment he’d feared and craved in equal measure. But with her, it didn’t feel scary. It felt right.

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, her eyes never leaving his. He raised his arms, letting her pull it off. The cool air of the room kissed his bare skin, making him shiver. She traced the lines of his abs with her fingertips, her eyes taking in every inch of him with a mix of awe and affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice a warm caress against his ear.

Bucky felt a blush creep up his cheeks, a rare and welcome sensation. He’d never been one for compliments, but coming from her, it felt like the most profound truth he’d ever heard. He kissed her again, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm.

They moved together, exploring each other with gentle touches and whispered sighs. Bucky’s mind was a blur of sensation, each new discovery a revelation. The way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made him feel. It was like coming home after a long, cold war, finding warmth in the most unexpected of places.

He felt her hand on the elastic of his sweatpants, and he stilled for a moment. This was the part that had always been a minefield before. But she didn’t look up at him with fear or hesitation. Just love. So he let her continue, his breath catching in his throat as she touched him, skin to skin.

Y/N’s hand was warm and sure, and Bucky couldn’t help but gasp as she touched him, her thumb rubbing against the sensitive skin just beneath the waistband. The fabric was the last barrier between them, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

With a trembling hand, Bucky reached down to help her, his heart racing as he pushed his pants down. The coolness of the air against his skin was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies, and he watched as she took him in, her eyes wide and filled with a hunger that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t been in decades.

They kissed again, a kiss that was more than just a meeting of lips, it was a declaration of trust, of love, of the shared hope that this could be the start of something beautiful. He felt her hand slide down, her fingertips dancing against his skin, until she reached the bulge in his boxers, and he let out a soft groan that seemed to resonate through the very core of his being.

Her hand was tentative at first, exploring his hardness with gentle strokes. But as Bucky’s grip tightened on the sheets and his breathing grew ragged, she grew bolder. Her touch was a whispered promise of what was to come, a gentle reminder that she was here for him, that he wasn’t alone.

He slid his hand down to cover hers, their fingers intertwining as they found a rhythm that sent shockwaves through his body. The warmth of her hand, the softness of her skin, the way she looked at him - it was almost too much to handle. But he didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, craving more.

With a tremble, Bucky reached for the clasp of her bra, his metal digits fumbling slightly. But she was patient, smiling up at him as he finally managed to free her from the garment. Her breasts were perfect in his eyes, the soft mounds fitting perfectly into his palms. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, watching as they pebbled beneath his touch, and she gasped into his mouth. The sensation of skin against skin was electric, sending currents of pleasure through him that he hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like he’d feared. It was gentle, it was kind, it was everything he’d hoped for.

He broke the kiss to kiss his way down her neck, her chest, her stomach. He took his time, savoring each new inch of her that was revealed to him. Y/N’s breath hitched as his mouth reached the apex of her thighs, his tongue tracing a line along her inner thigh before dipping closer to where she was wet and waiting for him. He felt a small twist of doubt and self consciousness, he hadn’t actually done this since the 40s.

Her legs fell open to encourage him, and Bucky took a moment to breathe her in, to appreciate the trust she was giving him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She assured. He kissed her gently, his tongue teasing against her slit, her taste a rich mix of sweetness and desire. Y/N’s body arched off the bed, and she let out a soft moan, her hand sliding into his hair to guide him, to show him just how she liked it.

Bucky took his cues from her, his touch gentle and explorative. He’d never been with someone who knew the extent of his past, who had seen the monster he’d been made into. But here she was, her body open to him, welcoming him in. Her thighs trembled around his head as he worked his way down. His tongue found the spot that made her gasp. She was wet, slick against his mouth and he groaned, his cock pulsing with every soft whimper she made.

He could feel the tension coiling in her, tightening like a spring. Her hips began to move in time with his strokes, her breath coming in short and sharp gasps. He didn’t know how to do this, not really. But he knew he wanted to make her feel good. So he listened to her body, her sounds, her whispers of need. He focused on her reactions, learning what she liked, what made her squirm, what made her moan.

Small, quick flicks of his tongue over her clit seemed to send her reeling.

Y/N’s hands tightened in his hair as he worked her over, her body shaking with the force of her restrained pleasure. He could feel it building, the way she moved against his mouth, her legs tightening around his head, her breaths turning to pants. Her nails scraped against his scalp, a delicious pain that only served to drive him on, to make him want more, to make her feel more.

And then she was coming, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, her muscles clenching around his tongue. Bucky felt a surge of pride, of accomplishment, of pure, unadulterated joy.

He pulled back, kissing his way back up her body, feeling her pulse throb against his lips. She was beautiful, so beautiful, laid out before him like this. “Bucky,” she breathed, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with pleasure. He leaned over her, his forehead touching hers. “You’re sure?” he whispered. She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Bucky reached for the bedside drawer, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled out a condom. He’d had them there for months, hopeful and terrified, but they’d remained untouched. The foil packet crinkled in the quiet room, a sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the wake of their shared intimacy. Y/N watched him, her eyes never leaving his face, her trust in him unwavering. He rolled it on, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest, the echoes of fear that had haunted his every intimate moment. But as he positioned himself over her, her legs wrapping around his waist, he knew he could do this. For her, with her, he could overcome his worries.

He pushed inside her, slowly.

The world outside the window had gone dark, but the room was bathed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. Her eyes were wide, watching him with a mix of excitement and concern, and he knew he had to get this right. For her, for them. Her heat enveloped him, and he felt his own walls crumbling, the last of his barriers falling away. He’d never felt this connected to anyone before, not like this. It was as if they were two lost pieces of a puzzle finally finding their place.

Their movements grew more frantic as the passion built, their kisses deep and desperate. Bucky felt the ghosts of his past trying to claw their way back in, but he pushed them away, focusing solely on the woman beneath him. Her nails dug into his back, her legs tightening around him as she matched his rhythm, urging him on.

The sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of sighs and gasps and moans. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, each kiss a promise to keep her safe. Bucky’s heart thudded in his chest, a drumline of hope and desire. He’d been so afraid of this moment, but here it was, and it was nothing like the horrors he’d anticipated. It was raw and real and everything he’d ever dreamed of.

Her nails scored down his back as she arched up to meet him, her breaths growing shallower, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Bucky felt the tension in her body, the way she tightened around him, the soft mewling noises that escaped her throat. He’d never felt so alive, so present in the moment. Each stroke was a promise, a declaration that he was here, with her, and nothing else mattered.

Their bodies moved in harmony, a dance that transcended the chaos of the world outside. His metal hand found hers, their fingers entwining as if to anchor themselves in the present. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch, the way she clung to him as if he were her lifeline. And maybe, in a way, he was.

The world narrowed down to just the two of them, the only sounds the slap of skin and the harsh pull of their breathing. Bucky’s eyebrow was furrowed. He watched her face, the way her lip got pulled between her teeth in concentration, the softness of her cheeks flushed with passion.

Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed as she neared the precipice again.

Their passion was palpable, a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the depths of their souls.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his, and in that moment, something changed. He saw her, not just the woman he desired, but the person who had seen his darkest moments and chosen to love him regardless. And she saw him, not as the damaged soldier, but as the man who had fought to survive and come back to life.

Their movements grew more deliberate. Bucky’s rhythm slowed, his strokes deepening, as if trying to etch himself into her very being. He felt her inner walls quiver, a sign that she was close, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. But he wanted to give her everything she needed, to show her just how much she meant to him.

Y/N’s breath was a pant on his skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He leaned in, pressing kisses along her jaw, her neck, the soft skin of her collarbone. They were both hurtling uncontrollably towards the edge…

Her body tensed around him, a silent plea, and Bucky knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He thrust into her, feeling her nails dig into his back as she cried out his name, her body shattering into a thousand pieces. He watched her come undone, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure that sent him over the edge.

With a guttural groan, he followed her, his orgasm tearing through his muscles, leaving him trembling and spent. He collapsed onto her, his heart hammering against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. The warmth of her body was like a medicine to his soul, a gentle reminder that he was more than just a weapon, that he was loved.

They laid there for a few moments, their hearts beating in sync, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the blanket around them. Bucky felt the warmth of her skin, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, and the reality of what they had just shared settled heavily on him. It was a moment that had been months in the making, a moment where fear had been vanquished by love and trust.

He leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her. Her eyes were closed, a soft smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t help but trace the curve of her cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the heated skin under his fingertips. He’d never felt more alive, more human, than he did in that moment.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a softness that made his chest ache. “More than okay,” she said, her voice a whisper.

He leaned down to kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her lips. Her hand slid up his chest, her touch featherlight and reverent. It was as if she knew just how much this meant to him, just how much of a milestone it was.

They lay there, tangled in the sheets, their bodies still slick with sweat. Bucky’s mind was racing, but in a good way. He’d done it. He’d faced his fears and come out the other side. And she was still here, her arm wrapped around his waist, her breathing evening out as she snuggled closer to him.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice still rough from their earlier exertions. Y/N opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. “For what?” “For making it okay,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “For making me feel like I can do this. Like I’m not just some… some broken toy that nobody wants to play with anymore.”

Her eyes had a glassy pain in them. “Bucky, you’re so much more than that. You always have been. And I want to play with you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

——————————————————————————————————

A small gift 🎁🫶 (We’re ignoring mistakes)

[hyckstarz]

breaking the rival code | l.mk

pairing. rival!mark lee x afab reader

word count. 6.1k

genre. smut · enemies to lovers trope · humour

synopsis. Mark had a way of getting on your nerves, to the point you'd even considered shutting him up for good. However, your best friend eventually planted a seed in your head that fucking your rival, and breaking the unspoken code, would be enough to finally end the long-standing feud.

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, fingering, use of pet name (baby), choking, oral (fem receiving), haechan as best friend and instigator

A/N. i had this buried in my drafts for months but it had me screaming into my own pillow whenever i read it so, it couldn't stay unpublished for long.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Mark Lee," she's fuming, as per usual. Eyebrows tightly knit and throwing daggers with her hard glare while Mark just laughs, "It's due next week, and you haven't even written up a plan?!"

Mark rolls his eyes, his glasses almost slipping down his nose, doodling absentmindedly in his notebook, "Relax, that's 168 hours of time to work on it, it's nothing."

She sinks back into her chair, crossing her arms in that arrogant way — as Mark would describe it, "Actually, it's less than 84 hours if you factor in sleep, other classes you have to go to, and fucking surviving. Mark, do you take anything seriously?"

Mark rubs his face in frustration, facing her, "It's the first year; none of this counts towards our grade," he goes back to doodling small Spider-Man caricatures but, as always, he can't resist having the last word, "And you're too serious, princess. Live a little."

Small things like that always set her off. She was aware of how she came across but, when it involved Mark, she only ever saw red. She somehow manages to calm herself down, realising they're in the campus library and already earning a few curious, judgemental stares.

"Mark...," she manages to whisper somewhat loudly, leaning in close enough for him to feel her minty breath against his skin, "Can we please get most of this done today? I'd very much like to be free of your presence."

Mark chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes slowly drifting over her subtle features, raising a brow in amusement — the weight of his gaze caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Finally, he gave in and pulled out his laptop. He began clicking through their assignment brief and taking notes down, surprising even her, who started doing the same. As English literature students, it was a given that they had to read a stack of novels and articles, even for an assignment worth 0% towards their final grade.

Yet even small victories in their relationship were rare. It was a miracle that they were somehow able to work through the tasks efficiently, though that moment was short-lived before they were at each other’s throats, with Y/N starting it again.

"Mark, we're meant to critically analyse, not describe. Do you have any working brain cells in that thick head of yours?" Her fingers twitched, as if to hold herself back from clenching her fists and knocking some ounce of sense into him.

He rolls his eyes in response, jaw hardening as he scowled at her, clearly not in the mood for their usual back and forth, "We need to have a synopsis of the texts, I don't know how else you expect me to include all of the relevant info without having a short paragraph in there."

She simply looks at him in disbelief, shaking her head as if he'd just said the most absurd thing ever, "Mark... do you really think we can afford a whole paragraph just on a summary?"

He just chuckles in response, clearly uncaring. She leaned forward, her fingers digging into the desk and turning white as she struggled to maintain her composure. Mark’s casual smile only fuelled her irritation, but she lets out a heavy sigh, judgy eyes flicking across his face.

"You're like those pretty dumb blondes; the only thing you've got going for you are your looks, sorry to say," she sneers, going back to taking notes, but she internally curses at herself for admitting she found him at least objectively attractive.

Mark pauses, head snapping to her, his eyes flicking over her features, trying to decipher what she'd just said, or if he'd even heard her correctly under the hushed whispers of the library. He spins the pencil in his hand, eyes narrowing at her as a smug expression tugs on the corners of his lips, "You think I'm good looking? I'm flattered."

Y/N gives him an exasperated glance, snorting at his sudden change in demeanour and sitting up to look at him straight on, "I know you took me for a fool, but a blind one too? Damn," she said with a sarcastic lilt.

When Mark doesn't respond, just a cocky smirk widening — his gaze intense — she feels her heart rapidly beat against her chest and, as a way to hide the effect he has on her, she rolls her eyes for the nth time that hour, clearing her throat and focusing back on her task, "If you weren't so annoying, or if you learnt how to shut your mouth and do things correctly, you'd have a lot more going for you," she sends him a glare, "But you don't, so your looks only take you so far, and that's below average in my books."

He mocks in response, "Wow, you read? How surprising."

This time, she couldn't hold herself back. Mark did have a way with getting under her skin, so well in fact, that it led to them being asked to leave the library, only furthering their frustration and anger towards one another.

It wasn't always like this, either. When Mark had first met her, he was a shy, slightly awkward teenage boy and, the first impression she had of him, was cute. He was incredibly sweet and outgoing; it was easy for him to make friends and that meant they easily got close too. The only problem was, they were so alike in all the wrong ways. He was just too competitive and stubborn, always aiming for the top, and so was she. It was only natural that friends turned to rivals, competing with one another over everything. With that being an understatement.

From whom could get to the cafeteria the fastest, to who could submit their assignment the earliest and get the highest grade? It was competition, after competition. Most would get exhausted after the first two or three, but for them, it was thrilling, though they'd never admit that to one another.

"I can't believe your loudmouth got us kicked out of the library," his jaw hardened as he met her intense gaze, "Can't you sit still and take comments with some sort of, I don't know, strength? Because clearly, you're so sensitive over such simple, meaningless words," He slings his bag over his shoulder, already walking off.

Only further proving his point, she chases after him, tugging at his arm so that he wouldn't get away.

"You're the one who can't let things go either, always needing to have the last word, what are you, a child?" she crosses her arms and nods her head with a questioning brow, as if to say, 'go on'.

Mark just scoffs, about to walk off before turning around, his hands moving in frustration as he glares down at her, "You- you're such a pain in the ass, you know that? You really know how to drive me crazy."

He's panting, frustration evident. But it was the way he was looking at her that threw her completely off balance. His narrowed eyes flicked to her lips, brows furrowed as though he were etching her features into his long-term memory. She felt her heart drumming in her chest.

Before she could respond, a familiar yet equally as annoying mutual friend of theirs appears, snickering at the pair and their usual quarrelling, "Jeez, can't you two just fuck already?"

"Shut the fuck up, Haechan" they both say in unison, tearing their gaze away from one another with a scowl.

Haechan only snorts, glancing between the pair with an amused brow, "Clearly there's some sexual tension that I'm interrupting here, it would explain why you look at each other like that," He leans in-between them, as if to reveal the biggest secret in history, "I bet you two dream about each other too — in, you know, that kinda way."

Mark just stands there, mouth agape and in disbelief at the absurdity Haechan was spewing, looking between the two. Y/N just scoffed, grabbing the man by his bag and pulling him away without so much of a word. Haechan waved a chaste goodbye to Mark as he was being dragged off to God knows where.

Someone was going to die today, and it was definitely Haechan.

It was quiet. Way too quiet. The coffee shop was empty, hence for the low whispers of the baristas in the far corner, and a cheeky Haechan sitting before her, happily drinking his iced tea after telling his two closest friends that they should fuck each other. She groans, letting her head fall into the palm of her hands.

Usually, this coffee shop was a place where she could find peace and solitude. It was bright, with large windows that let light in all throughout the day, creating a florescent streak of amber and pink through the thin stickers attached to the panels. The colour schemes could easily brighten one's day as whites and pinks peppered along the walls.

The foliage brought life to what would otherwise seem like a cold, simple design, and the bakery added a subtle hint of beige, creating a natural environment. But the best thing about any coffee shop, was the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and the sounds of the machine working, or even the quiet conversations. Though, sounds were non-existent today, except for her constant groaning, which started to bother her best friend.

"If you make one more frustrated sound, I'm leaving," he takes another sip of his cool drink, "Is it because of what I said earlier? Just know, I wasn't lying, that would definitely help you two."

She pulls her hands away, pursing her lips as she started twirling her straw, watching the milk mix with the coffee and caramel, "No, it's because I'm... I don't know, frustrated?"

Haechan glared incredulously, "Clearly."

"Not like that, I meant... I miss how Mark and I used to be, how we would laugh at silly jokes, or talk for hours without it having to turn into a competition, but now everything he says or does has a way of getting under my skin," She takes a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling at the taste, "He could just be sitting there, doing absolutely nothing, and I'd I just want to-"

"Want to what?" Haechan asks, ears perking up, waiting for a gotcha moment.

"Well, what I usually do." She shrugs, going back to her drink.

Haechan takes everything she says in, nodding his head slowly, "Anyway, it's sort of funny as Mark said the same kinda thing to me the other day...," Haechan takes a sip of his drink, whining when he finds it empty, "He said he missed the old you, or when you guys used to be friends."

She pauses, meeting her waiting friend’s gaze. Her brows furrow. Mark... missed how they used to be? But she doesn't say anything to Haechan, keeping her thoughts to herself.

The usual smug expression returns as he leans back in his chair, leg bouncing under the table out of habit as he crossed his arms behind his head, "Anyway, as I said, you need to get your frustrations out in other ways. You clearly have a thing for each other. The way you express it is a little... unconventional, but you're both immature, so I'm not surprised."

She simply looks at her friend in disbelief, lips parted as she gapes at him, to which Haechan only grins annoyingly at her. He also had a way with words, just like Mark, except he seemed to understand boundaries a lot better, and was chill enough to not want to fight back.

"What? Please tell me you two at least have moments of either flirting with each other or checking the other person out-"

"No." She scowls, shivering at the thought. Though, she couldn't help but remember the way he'd looked at her earlier, brushing off the thought, "It's hard enough to even look at him without wanting to strangle him."

"Okay, so you're into choking, got it." Haechan chuckles, nodding as if to make a mental note of it.

"No, I'm not into that! Whatever, look, I don't have a thing for him, so just drop it." She looks at him with a serious, intense gaze, as if to emphasise the fact she really didn't want to talk about this anymore.

Her friend only nods, putting his hands up in mock surrender, "Okay, just know Mark would definitely jump you if he had the chance — I mean, which guy would put up with your shit? No offence."

She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink in hopes it would be refreshing enough to block out her growing irritation, "Anyway, the sooner I get this assignment done, the sooner I can move on from this Mark topic."

She quickly pulls out her phone before Haechan could drop in another one of his grand ideas, finding Mark's contact and immediately sending him a text. She almost spat out her drink at how fast he had responded.

You: Let's just get this assignment done with. I don't feel like getting kicked out of yet another establishment, so just come over to mine tomorrow or something.

You: *sends her address*

Mark: Fun.

Mark: I'll be there around 4 if that works

You: 👍

She bit her nails anxiously, eyes glancing between the door and the clock on the wall - each tick of the hands signalled it was only getting closer to 4, which was when Mark said he would arrive.

That wasn't why she was anxiously boring holes into the clock, however. She could curse the heavens, the earth and the 12 Olympians, but instead, she chose to curse the lust demon himself, aka Haechan. She buried her head in her hands, tugging at the roots of her hair in frustration. She can't believe she dreamt of Mark last night for the first time and, it wasn't just any dream — which was the worst part. Why did her mind have to be so vivid and make Mark so incredibly sexy? She had no idea.

When a knock came from the door, she stood up a little too quickly, rushing to it and praying that Mark looked far from presentable than he had been in her dream. But he wasn't, of course. She'd never seen him in jeans before and the green hoodie was the cherry on top. She swallowed hard, peering up at him as he adjusted his glasses.

"Are you going to let me in?" He raised a brow, his dark eyes glancing over her features in suspicion, taking a quick, subtle glimpse at her plaid sweatpants and pink t-shirt that didn't do much to hide the outline of her bra. He swallowed hard, tonguing the inside of his cheek in annoyance yet, the only thing that swirled in his mind were thoughts of how fucking attractive she was without even trying.

His annoyed expression grounded her temporarily, falling back into her usual demeanour as she rolled her eyes and held the door open wider for him, "If I catch you slacking once, I'll kick your ass out of here."

Mark gives her a side eye, frowning before kicking his shoes off, "Are you trying to motivate me not to do the work?"

She laughs sarcastically, leading him to her room as she props herself on her bed, noticing Mark looking over her interior.

"I expected your place to be put together, but not drenched in pink," his gaze trailed over her shelf, taking note of the various photo frames and mini ornaments.

She chuckles under her breath, pulling out her laptop and notes, "What, too girly for me?"

He turns his gaze to her, a quiet silence envelops them for a moment, and she takes that time to admire him. She knew he was attractive — objectively — but never had she looked at him in that way. The kind of way that made her heart and mind race.

Mark finally straightens up with a shrug, sitting down on the edge of the bed and getting his things out as well.

It felt strange having Mark in her home. If it weren't for getting kicked out of the library, her apartment would have been the last place he would be at. Though, now seeing him sat almost politely at a respectable distance from her, typing away on his keyboard quietly, made it start to feel right somehow.

She opened their shared document, reading the notes he was typing up. Even though he tended to be a lazy ass — or a procrastinator, as he would call it — there was no doubt he had a way with words. When he really put his mind to something, he would always deliver quality work. At times, she'd look back on why they had turned rivals, or enemies, and then she'd see what a complete genius he was. Maybe it was always her. Maybe she was just jealous that, no matter how hard she worked, Mark would always be ten steps ahead.

"I wrote up all the notes," Mark's voice cut through her thoughts, "How far did you get?"

She turned back to her laptop, pursing her lips at the blank screen. When she took her time responding, Mark scrolled down the document to where her cursor was and sent her a deadpanned expression, "What did you say about slacking off...?"

She doesn't know whether to laugh or smack him, so she picks the secret third option and scowls, "I did more work than you yesterday."

"That's old news," he sighed, looking through their to-do list, "I thought you wanted to get this assignment done and dusted because... what was the reason again? Oh yeah, you wanted nothing to do with me."

She scoffs, sitting up as she points an accusatory finger at him, "Don't act like you don't feel the same way."

Mark clears out the already completed tasks on the list, colour coding the other bullet points to distribute the work evenly between them, "Oh I do, and I wonder why." He doesn't even spare her a glance.

"Go on."

"Maybe it's because you continuously bitch over every little thing, it's no wonder Haechan is the only friend you have and, it's probably because he's waiting for some kind of green light," Mark's bitter words reeked of jealousy as he spoke through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me?" She shrieks before she leans over the bed and grasps at his hoodie, his hand immediately grabbing her wrist, "That's too far, Mark, even for you."

He raised an unamused brow at her, fingers tightening on her wrists, yet she doesn't waver, "Maybe, but I'm sick of it. All you ever do is complain and treat me like some sort of idiot and, when I give you the same energy, I'm the problem."

His voice is tight, jaw hard as he doesn't break the eye-contact. She pulls him in closer, anger bubbling in the pit of her stomach, "What a joke, you're just as much of a problem as I am and, you know what? Maybe Haechan was right, maybe we need to fuck for us to finally pull our shit together."

The moment those words leave her lips, she regrets them. From up close, he was even more attractive that those words naturally came out. Mark's eyes widened comically and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

His brows furrowed, "Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually suggesting that?" his voice carried a disbelieving tone despite his cheeks growing redder by the minute.

If it weren't for the dream she had last night, or that stupid green hoodie he was wearing right now, she would have laughed it off as a joke or even knocked him out in hopes he'd forget what nonsense she'd just spewed. However, all she could think about in that moment were his hands gripping at her plush thighs, spreading them apart as he lodged himself between her legs, his soft lips parting against hers desperately. She swallowed hard.

"Yes, I am suggesting that," she doubles down, the words more confident now. She knew she wanted him, even if he drove her bat-shit crazy. Even if he'd think she's bat-shit crazy.

It was almost laughable how wide Mark's eyes had gotten, his lips parted in shock, "you're fucking serious, Y/N?" This was too cruel of a joke from someone like Y/N. He knew she would rather curse him out than make absurd suggestions such as sleeping with each other. And the more he thought about it, on top of the intense gaze she carried, the more he believed she was being serious.

She leaned in, her warm breath fanning against his skin. She could smell his musky cologne — it was a scent she felt she could easily get addicted to, "I am serious, Mark," her big, doe eyes peered up at him through her lashes, "Hell, I even dreamt of you last night thanks to that blabby-mouthed Haechan."

Mark suddenly grows flustered, averting his gaze. She dreamt of him? His words practically came out like a croak from the nerves, "H-hey, that's a little..."

She raised a brow, waiting for him to continue his sentence yet he'd only grown quiet, his jaw clenched as he processed the situation. He felt his throat go dry and, the way she was staring at him made him feel breathless - a little too out in the open under her gaze. It was taking everything in him to hold back, but their shared history and his growing annoyance towards her kept him stuck in place.

"What? Mark, don't be a pussy," she scoffed. Despite her harsh words, they had rolled off of her tongue like honey, "Do you want this or not?"

Mark's head whips to her, his brows furrowed, "I am not...," the words faltered on his tongue as his hands came to rest behind her on the bed, his nose brushing against hers. He was way bigger than her, his arms caging her in, looming over her, "I'm not as much of a loser as you think I am, Y/N," the words were bitter; however, he felt like he was falling too deep.

Being this close to her, with her wide, surprised eyes staring back at him, her flowery perfume more prominent at the proximity, and her warm breath... He couldn't find it in him to deny it anymore, "Fuck, I do want this," he muttered, the whispered confession slipping past his lips before he himself could process the words.

At that, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing his nose fully against hers, "I want this too." Her soft words drew him in like a moth to a flame and it felt like the string that held onto his sanity had snapped.

Mark pressed his lips to her glossy, pink ones that tasted like cherry, breathing in her flowery scent, to which she parted her lips against his in response. His hands gripped at the soft flesh of her waist, pulling her in impossibly close. He tasted minty, mixing with his musky cologne and it was like she couldn't think straight anymore, losing her grip on reality and, instead, losing herself in him. In Mark. Her supposed enemy and rival.

It didn't take long for her to pull him on top of her, her back falling against the mattress whilst her leg rode up his side, hooking over his hips. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck, nipping at her skin and down the valley of her clothed breasts. She was going insane, and it was his fault, "Mark, take off my damn shirt already," she groaned in frustration, sitting up.

He didn't waste any time. Stripping off her shirt, he subtly admired her plush breasts which sat pretty in her lilac laced bra, barely leaving anything up to his imagination. As much as she got on his nerves, he couldn't deny the effect she had on him by being effortlessly gorgeous even as her brows were tightly knit. He pushed her back down onto the bed, planting his hands on either side of her head, "Are you always this demanding?"

"Only with you," she mutters, tugging at his hoodie impatiently, to which he chuckles, taking it off. She couldn’t help but gawk at him, sending him a glare for being more attractive than her dreams could ever do justice.

He kisses her again, his hand trailing down the side of her breasts, not giving her time to run her mouth. Then, his hand pulls the bra down, letting her breasts slip out as he cupped and kneaded the soft mounds, groaning into her mouth at how they fit perfectly in his hand. He rolled the nub between his fingers, grazing his thumb over them.

Mark kisses down her body, taking a nipple into his mouth — biting and tugging at it as his hand continued to twist the other between his thumb and index. He relished in the soft sounds that escaped her lips and the way she tugged at the locks of his hair.

He continued to move down her body, his finger hooking under the waistband of her sweatpants as he met her gaze, "I know you beat my ass over this, but you sure this is what you want?"

She deadpanned at him, "You just made out with my breasts, Mark. If I didn't want this, I would have stopped you there."

Mark just rolls his eyes in response, slipping her sweatpants down, "Could have just said yes."

She's about to retort when she feels his hand cup her, finger tracing the clothed slit of her pussy and she has to bite her lip to stop her from making a sound. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction so soon. Didn't want him to know just how badly she wanted him — more than she'd like to admit.

However, Mark was as stubborn and competitive as she was, and he wouldn't hold back until she gave in. He pushes her underwear to the side, leaning in so that his warm breath fanned against her sensitive folds, causing her to whimper.

'Fuck,' she thought.

Mark, without warning, slowly licks a stripe up her slit, his flat tongue drawing out a shudder from her — back naturally arching. Each time, he'd go in for more, slowly bringing up the pace. Her thighs clamped around his head, holding him hostage until he groaned and grabbed onto her plush thighs, pinning them to the bed; fingers leaving marks along her soft skin. Her own fingers grabbed at anything they could, from the sheets beneath her, to the healthy lock of hair on his head, letting them knot around her digits and tug with every wave of pleasure he had given her.

She could feel his cocky smirk as he sucked on her clit, enjoying every moment of her falling apart on his mouth. Falling apart for him. When he pulls away from her, she let's out a frustrated whine to which Mark only laughs at, "Open your mouth."

She sends him a skeptical look, "Fuck no."

Mark's patience wears thin, "Don't be a stubborn brat now."

Surprisingly, she obliged and he pushes his fingers past her plush, kiss-swollen lips. Her mouth suckles on the digits, tongue swirling around them, and he retracts his fingers with a pop.

"Fuck, your mouth really does have uses other than spewing insults and demands," he teases, voice low, tracing her entrance which had her letting out shallow breaths.

"At least it has more use than your fingers-" her words cut short when he pushes his finger in, palm pressed to her clit as he looks up at her with a 'you sure about that?' look.

It doesn't take long for Mark to add a second finger, curling them in search for the spot that would make her see stars. And then, he finds it, and she let's out a sharp gasp which only grows louder when his lips wrap around her clit, continuing his earlier ministrations of lapping at her folds like a man starved.

Just as her dreams failed in visualising just how attractive her nemesis was, it had also failed in expressing how utterly, impossibly, and irritatingly good he was with his hands, lips, tongue-

"Mark, fuck-!" She starts to tense under him, eyes pierced shut as she chases that feeling of ecstasy.

"I believe I'm getting there...," Mark chuckles, the vibration of his voice fluttering against her.

And, just as she starts to see the twinkling behind her eyelids, the light at the end of the dark tunnel, and a glimpse of the heavens, Mark pulls away, leaving her empty, wanting, and embarrassingly needy.

Forget Haechan, Mark was the number one man on her hit list.

In a second, he's over her again, cupping the back of her neck and lifting her slightly up to kiss her. She can taste herself on his tongue, feel the way his lips apply just the right amount of pressure to say he's here, and it's so soft, so gentle, so wanting — it was the perfect contrast, the perfect contradiction to the image she'd created in her mind of him. His thumb brushes against her jaw, fingers tangling in her hair, before he pulls away, forehead resting on hers as he breaths against her.

His eyes flicker open to gaze down at her; warm and oh so inviting. It felt like the Mark she once knew. The genuine, loving and calming person. Though his next words threw her completely off balance, and she was quick to retract her claims.

"I'm going to fuck that sexy, infuriating attitude out of you, baby," he lets the pet name draw out. In every other context, with any other person, she would have cringed at that word, but it felt so undeniably attractive coming out of his lips, that she wanted to hear him say it more than once.

Mark got up off of the bed, pulling out his wallet to fish for a condom that had been in there for God knows how long, chucking it on the bed next to her and kicking off his jeans and boxers in record speed. She barely had a millisecond to admire the sheer length of him before he was on her again.

His deep brown eyes kept their hold on hers and she could see a subtle hint of affection; the space between his brows crinkling in focus as he slowly pushed into her. His calloused fingers pressed along her waist, leaving white marks along her curves, while she could feel every ridge, vein and pulse of his cock.

When he bottomed out, she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in impossibly close. Needing him closer to her. She could feel the rough planes of his body pressed to her soft ones as he started to rock against her. He gripped her thigh, pushing it further up so he could angle himself better, remembering the spot that had her seeing stars earlier.

Each time he'd hit that spot, she'd clench naturally, rocking her hips to meet his that had him softly groaning by her ear. He smelt so good, felt so good, was so good. She felt her mind start to fog up, jaw slack from the loud, erotic sounds that forced its way out from her throat. It was too much in the best possible way.

That wasn't as far as Mark would go though, he wouldn't stop at just good. He wanted best. His hand snakes up her body, gently wrapping around her neck — thumb pressed to her jaw — as he applied enough pressure to her pulse point. She knew then that maybe she did actually enjoy being choked or, at least, enjoyed anything Mark did.

She throws her legs around his waist, pulling him down, desperate to feel more of him, to reach her release she craved, pride long forgotten, "Mark... Mark, fuck- please..."

Mark pressed a sweet, uncharacteristic kiss to her cheek, "Please what, baby?" he brushed the strands away from her forehead, never halting his movements.

"Need more of you...," She could barely get the words out, but Mark knew exactly what she meant. Without time for her to process, he flipped her onto her stomach, pressing her face against the pillows, fingers tangled in her silky hair as he snapped his hips into her with more strength.

She could have sworn she started hallucinating seeing stars in the room from how deep he was reaching in this new angle, hitting her spot with added ease. Her glossy lips stayed parted against the pillows, drool staining the cotton case as she let out soft grunts.

Mark's head rolled back at the filthy sounds of her and how fucked out she looked. It made him want to carve this scene into the deepest part of his memory, "You're doing so good for me... So pretty like this."

His soft voice did not match the roughness of his fucking, but it made her clench around him, "C-close..."

Mark hummed, grabbing locks of her hair and tugging it back so that she arches against him, "Be a good girl and come all over my cock, then."

She nods eagerly, reaching behind him to grab at his hips, urging him to go faster, harder. She chased that release as if seeking closure from her pent up frustrations at Mark and hers usual bickering and challenges. She sits up to lean against him, knees pressed to the mattress and head rested on his collarbone — his own arms wrapping around her body. Finally, she came, body shuddering in his hold and, at the feel of her convulsing around his length, Mark bit her neck, muffling his sweet sounds as he followed suit.

They stayed like that for a while, panting, hair sticking to their foreheads. She wouldn't be close to exaggerating by saying this was the best sex she'd ever had, but she would also blame that on the sheer tension they carried for years around one another.

When Mark slips out of her, she fully expects him to make some usual smart comment, but he only pulls her with him as he lay in her bed, keeping his arms around her, "Who knew we'd be so compatible?"

She snorts, "I can name at least one person," she thinks of her best friend, the whole reason this night even happened and speeding up the process between them.

Mark smiles, snuggling into her and letting out a soft sigh, feeling sleep catching up to him, "I hope this isn't just a one time thing, though," he says suddenly with a soft voice, "you don't know how long I wanted this for. Wanted you. It drove me insane trying to be... I guess, respectful and casual about it all."

She sat up, turning to look down at him with a playful look of disbelief, "I call bullshit, you weren't respectful about nothing. Not that I'm complaining, it's attractive seeing you annoyed."

Mark rolls his eyes, smirking at her, his cockiness returning, "I knew you found me more than just objectively attractive, you're down bad."

She easily admits it, "Yeah, I am. But you're in way deeper for asking Haechan for advice of all people."

Mark immediately sits up, his face pale from the shock despite his cheeks being flushed, "Dude- Wait, what?"

"We're on dude terms now after you fucked an outline of my body into this mattress?" she scoffs, her crude words making Mark increasingly more flustered than he already was, "The choking kinda gave it away. I just know Haechan threw that in conversation with you."

Mark laughed sheepishly, pulling her into his chest as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "Guilty as charged. Though, I'm proposing we get back at his arrogant ass by not telling him a thing. We'll slowly drop hints to mess with him a little — see how long it takes for him to catch on."

"I'm in," She giggles, feeling sleep overtake her as she nestled into Mark's chest.

Before today, neither of them would have imagined that fucking each others rival would be the secret to finally ending the long-standing feud and breaking the rival code.

© hyckstarz