#i need more snippets and content of them before the release

[wikitpowers]

i think about this morgenthorn art a lot u know

artist: @thorndale

[pickingupmymercedes]

5+5 (Ways to Smut) - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

You know the drill by now, there's 5 snippets of things he loves and other 5 of things he loves to do.

request: "I love fluffy with Lewis, but you could write "ways to say I love you" but in sex? maybe little things that lewis and yn do before and during sex" - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +3K

a/n: I had a great time writing those, hope guys like it as well.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

Things he loves

Lightly bitting on his lower lips

Lewis's movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust measured and filled with a tender intensity that left Y/n breathless. She clung to him, her hands sliding up his back, nails grazing his skin in a way that was certain to leave marks.

Their eyes locked, the world outside be damned, only the two of them in their intimate dance.

She reached up, her fingers threading through his braids as she pulled him down for a kiss. Their lips meeting in the midst of moans and breathing. The taste of each other maddening.

With a soft, playful growl, she bit down gently on his lower lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh just enough to get him to hiss, the sound vibrating against her lips, a deep, primal noise that made her heart race.

"Y/n" he murmured, his voice rough with warning.

She smiled against his lips, her teeth releasing his lower lip slowly. "Yeah?!" she whispered, teasingly with a breathy tone.

He captured her mouth again, his kiss more urgent this time, spurred on by her boldness. Each thrust grew a little faster, a little deeper, his body responding to her antics. She bit his lip again, a little harder this time, and he moaned into her mouth, his hips snapping forward in response.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly, pulling her closer, deeper. She could feel his need, his desire, in every movement, in every desperate kiss and touch.

She arched against him, her body surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through her veins. "So do you" she panted, her voice trembling.

Their rhythm grew frenzied, a wild dance that pushed them both to the brink. She bit his lip once more, this time to suppress her moans for becoming too loud. His response was immediate, a guttural groan that vibrated through his whole body.

With a final, deep thrust, he found his release, their cries mingling in the quiet of the room. He collapsed on top of her, his breath hot and ragged against her skin, their bodies still joined.

As their breathing slowed, he pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of awe and affection. He traced her lower lips with his finger, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You really like biting, huh?"

She laughed softly, kissing the digit he left in her lips. "Only when it's you" she replied, her voice filled with warmth and love.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Good" he whispered. "Because I love it."

That first touch on his dick after teasing

Her lips danced over his skin, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake. Each touch was gentle, teasing, a tantalizing promise of what she had in mind for him.

They both could feel the tension building, the electric charge that crackled in the air with every brush of their bodies. But she wasn't content with mere kisses; she wanted to drive him wild, to push him to the brink of madness with need.

She let her hands roam, tracing lazy patterns across his chest, lingering over the sharp contours of his muscles. And then, with a daring grin, she let her fingers drift lower, hovering over the sensitive skin of his abdomen until they found their target.

She could feel the heat radiating from him, the unmistakable evidence of his desire throbbing.

She touched him lightly, reveling in the sharp intake of breath that escaped him. His reaction only spurring her on, emboldening her to explore further, to stoke the flames of his passion until he was consumed by it.

With a playful giggle and a smirk later, she finally wrapped her fingers around him, relishing in the way he twitched in response to her touch.

She began to stroke him slowly, her movements deliberate and measured. He groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as he arched against her, seeking more of her touch.

But she held him back, keeping him on the edge of bliss, teasing him with the promise of release.

And then, just when he thought he couldn't take any more, she leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. "Do you want me?" she whispered, her voice tempting him.

He could only nod, his words failing him as pleasure washed over him in waves. She smiled, her lips brushing against his lips in a feather-light kiss. "Then show me" she murmured, her fingers tightening around his length as she urged him to take what he desired.

Hitched breathing in his ears as he thrusts

He hovered over her, his body poised, their breaths mingling in the heated air between them. His senses were heightened. Every touch, every sound, magnified in the intensity of the moment.

But it was the hitch in her breathing, the soft gasps that escaped her lips with each of his thrusts, the sharp intake of air, that got most of his attentions, that drove him to push her further, to take her to the brink of pleasure and beyond.

He watched her closely, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her face, the flush that spread across her, the way her lips parted in pleasure. She was a vision of what he believed to be heaven; her eyes closed in blissful surrender.

With each movement of his body, he felt her response, her moans growing louder, her grip on him tightening. He quickened his pace, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

He lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies. But even as he felt his release building, his focus remained fixed on her, on the way her body responded to his touch, the way her breath kept on hitching.

When it happened – her back arched and she stopped breathing for a few moments as she tumbled over the edge. He watched in awe as pleasure washed over her, then her cries echoing in the room, mingling with his own ragged breaths.

Grabbing his hips and buckling hers to pull him ever deeper

Her nails dug into his hips, her grip firm as she urged him deeper into her. The heat between them was palpable, their bodies moving in sync, a symphony of desire and passion.

With each thrust, she pulled him closer, her hips rising to meet his with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

He groaned at the sensation, the pressure of her nails sending bolts of electricity straight to his core. It was a primal need, a raw desire that pulsed through them both, driving them to seek each other.

She wrapped her legs around his back, locking him in place as she arched against him, offering herself completely to his touch. Her muscles tensed with each movement, her body aching for release, for the sweet oblivion that awaited.

Lewis surrendered to her, letting her guide him, dictate their pace. He was lost in the sensation, in the overwhelming need to possess her completely, to lose himself in the depths of her passion.

Their bodies moved as one, a tangled mess of limbs and desire, each touch, each kiss, pushing them closer. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, they soared, their cries filling the room as they tumbled into the abyss.

Light dragging her nail on his back as he comes down from his orgasm

He collapsed against her body, his breath ragged and heart racing. The room was silent, save for the faint heavy breathing. The tension melting away, a profound peace that seemed to radiate from them.

His forehead rested on her shoulder, braids sticking to her skin as he tried to steady his pulse. The world outside ceased to exist; there was only the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, the smell of her skin and hormones.

Then he felt it – the delicate drag of her nails against his back. It started at his shoulder blades, the lightest of touches, rekindling the embers of fire that had just been extinguished.

She traced lazy patterns, her touch both soothing and tantalizing. He let out a low groan, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest.

Every movement of her fingers felt like a spark, a trail of fire across his skin. It was as if she was writing a secret language, each stroke a word, each swirl a sentence. Her touch was an intimate conversation that only they could understand.

Lewis managed to lift his head, his eyes finding hers. There was a soft glow in her gaze, a mix of tenderness and mischief that made his heart flip.

She was watching him closely, taking in every little reaction, every gasp and shiver. Her lips curved into a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the power she held over him in that moment.

He reached up, cupping her chin in his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "You're a menace" he murmured, his voice light with amusement.

Her smile widened, and she leaned into his touch, her nails still dancing on his back. "Aren’t we both?!" she replied softly, her fingers drifting lower, tracing the curve of his spine. The gentle pressure of her nails was maddening, a sweet torture that kept him suspended in a state of blissful arousal.

Lewis closed his eyes, savoring the moment, the feel of her against him, the intoxicating mix of them.

As her nails continued their lazy exploration, he pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. The scent of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body – it was all he needed.

Things he loves to do

Grunts as he focus on his thrusts

The room was dimly lit, only the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over their intertwined bodies. They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, their bodies perfectly in sync, each thrust a rehearsed move done another thousand times before.

Lewis's grunts filled the room, deep, guttural, each sound a witness to the effort he put into every movement. Y/n watched him, her eyes full with admiration and love. She could see the concentration etched on his face, the way his muscles tensed and flexed, the intensity of his focus as he lost himself in them.

She reached up, her fingers locking on the lines of his jaw. "I love the sounds you make" she murmured; her voice filled with affection.

He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a burning intensity. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice rough, breathless.

She nodded, her hand sliding down to rest on his shoulder, feeling the power in his movements. "I love how vocal you are." Her voice coming out in puffs.

He groaned at her words, his thrusts growing more insistent, more urgent. "I can't help it. You make me feel so good" he confessed, his voice a low rumble.

Her heart swelled at his words, her own pleasure mounting with each thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his grunts muffled against her mouth. "It's because of you" he murmured between kisses. "You make me feel like this.”

Being woken by his morning wood

Y/n stirred from her slumber feeling the familiar warmth of his body pressed against her, an arm draped possessively over her waist.

But it was the distinct sensation of his morning arousal that truly woke her, the hard length of him pressing insistently against her thigh.

She smiled to herself, enjoying the intimate moment, but aware of how bashful he could get about this natural occurrence. Despite the countless mornings they'd shared, the way he'd blush and stammer never failed to amuse and endear him to her.

Turning in his arms, she was met with the sight of his sleep-tousled loose curls and the serene expression on his face. She took a moment to simply appreciate him, the vulnerability in his relaxed state, the quiet strength that he exuded even in sleep.

Gently, she shifted closer, pressing her body against his. The movement caused him to stir, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal those deep, soulful eyes.

There was a moment of sleepy confusion before realization dawned, and she saw the telltale embarrassment creeping up on him features.

"Morning," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

He cleared his throat, attempting a casual smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Morning," he replied, his voice low and rough.

She couldn't resist teasing him, her hand sliding down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. "Seems like someone is happy to see me," she murmured, her tone playful.

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Can't help it" he mumbled; his breath warm against her skin. "You know how it is."

She chuckled softly, her fingers continuing their journey until they wrapped around his morning wood. He inhaled sharply, his body tensing at her touch. "No need to be shy" she reassured him; her voice gentle. "Besides, I love waking up to this."

He lifted his head, meeting her gaze with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. "You make it sound so easy" he said, his lips curving into a shy smile.

"Well, because it is" she replied, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, eliciting a shudder from him. "And it feels good, doesn't it?"

His eyes darkened with arousal, the last remnants of his shyness melting away. "Hm" his voice barely more than a whisper.

She leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, languid kiss, her hand continuing its gentle exploration. The tension in his body dissolved, replaced by a growing heat as he surrendered to her touch.

Slipping in after, staying inside for a little while longer

They lay together, their bodies still tangled as they both came down from their climax. The air thick with the heady scent of sweat and sex, their hearts still racing from the intensity.

As they caught their breath, Lewis shifted slightly, his movements slow and deliberate. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Y/n's lips before pulling back to look into her eyes.

"That was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words to capture the moment.

"Something" Y/n finished for him; her voice filled with awe.

He smiled, the corners of his lips quirking up in a tender expression. "Yeah" he agreed softly. "It really was."

They lay there in comfortable silence for a moment, basking in the glow of their shared ecstasy. And then, without a word, Lewis shifted again, slipping inside Y/n with a slow, gentle movement.

She gasped at the sensation, her eyes rolling in surprise. But before she could truly moan, he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her with a soft shush.

"Just for a little while longer," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Don’t want to let you go just yet.”

Y/n squeezed his hands in response, her heart swelling with emotion. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed together in a perfect fit.

Slowly rubbing his dick on the inside of her thigh

They lay in a tangle of sheets, their bodies warm and relaxed from the intimacy they had experienced earlier, a tray of fruits at their feet as he fed her.

Lewis turned to her, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and mischief. He gently slid his hand down her side, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. She shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he moved his body up and closer to hers.

He left the tray to the side, positioning himself on his knees right in front of her, slowly rubbing his new found erection along the inside of her thigh.

She bit her lip, her breath hitching as she felt the heat of him against her skin. "Lew" she whispered, her voice a mix of need and anticipation.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he continued his slow, deliberate movements. "Shh" he murmured, his voice a low, comforting rumble. "Just feel"

She closed her eyes, surrendering to the exquisite torment of his touch. His hand slid down to her thigh, holding her in place as he rubbed against her, the friction building a delicious tension between them. Her fingers gripped the sheets, her body arching towards him, craving more.

He kissed her neck, his lips soft and insistent, adding to the growing heat between them. Each slow, measured stroke of his dick against her thigh drove her wild, the teasing only increasing her desires.

"Please" she breathed, her voice barely audible.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers, filled with passion. "Not yet" he whispered, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "I want to make this last."

She moaned softly; the anticipation nearly unbearable. But she trusted him, knew that he would take her to the edge and beyond, that the sweet agony of waiting would only make their eventual release all the more powerful.

His movements grew insistent, the slow, rhythmic rubbing driving them both to the brink. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, her body aching for the moment when he would finally give in and take her completely.

And then, just as she was about to snap and take him in her hands, he paused, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss and his dick stretching her all over again.

Sucking on his fingers after getting you off

The room was still, the only sound the faint hum of the night outside the window. Y/n lay back, her body still vibrating with pleasure, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Lewis sat in front of her spread legs, his eyes dark with satisfaction and a lingering desire.

He looked at her, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he raised his hand, his fingers glistening with her essence. Slowly, deliberately, he brought them to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched, entranced, as he parted his lips and took his fingers in, his tongue swirling around them, savoring her taste.

She bit her lip, her eyes wide with desire. He moaned softly, the sound vibrating through the quiet room, as if savoring the most exquisite delicacy.

"You're incredible" he murmured around his fingers, his voice low and husky. His gaze remained locked on hers, the connection between them electric.

Her breath hitched, a flush spreading across her cheeks but yet, she couldn't look away, mesmerized by the intimate, sensual display. He continued to suck on his fingers, his eyes dark with hunger.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr, his fingers sliding from his mouth with a soft, wet sound.

She nodded; her voice caught in her throat. "Yeah" she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips. "Good" he said softly "Because I love making you feel that way."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth, tasting her, teasing her. As they kissed, she could feel the heat building once again. His fingers, still damp from their earlier exploration, slid down her body.

He pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with hers, his eyes dark with need. "I want to taste you again" he whispered, his voice a rough caress.

Her heart raced, her body arching towards him in silent invitation. "Not stopping you" she replied, a smirk to her lips that told him all he needed to know.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff

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[kaizokuniichan]

Attention Part 4 - Beef

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Afab Reader (referred to as she/her) x Trafalgar Law

Summary: Law and Zoro finally face off in a slightly heated discussion about you

CW: Brief mentions of slavery and violence, slightly toxic male “Bro” like behavior. You are the prize after all.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Next Chapter: Part 5

Word Count: 2.2k

MDNI. Even though this chapter does not contain any explicit content, the rest of the story does. Please respect this disclaimer.

I was originally going to present this chapter as a two-parter because I didn’t want to leave it as a cliffhanger, but the first part is completed and I’m still working on the second part and I wanted to finally release something for this story. I hope you’ll enjoy this little snippet and I will try to complete the next part soon. Happy Reading!

(Divider by @/cafekitsune and banner by @/eelnoise

Law couldn’t be more thrilled. Somehow, blessedly, you would be staying with him.

More simply, it would be you and the other remaining Strawhats on the journey to Wano, but the details of your failed rendezvous were irrelevant. For now he could at least continue enjoying your company.

Re-coordinating the plan was difficult, though having dealt with the Strawhat captain made Law more skilled at adapting to irritating deviations. His crew was a godsend for they were practiced in anticipating his needs before even being asked. Their reunion had filled him with the realization of how close he’d been to never seeing them again. Would they have forgiven him? Would they have even cared? Would they harbor any resentment for him abandoning them? It took great difficulty to prevent himself from falling down a rabbit hole of self-loathing, but it was combatted with his gratefulness for having such dedicated and devoted people in his life. He’d also internalized your guiding words which reminded him that there wouldn’t even be a dependable and trustworthy crew of his if there weren’t a great captain to lead them.

His mind and heart had been a jumbled mess on the days leading to Zou. A shard of his heart was being taken away, and he feared it would make the rest of him collapse in a way his own Devil Fruit wouldn’t be able to fix. He’d dreaded the moment he’d leave you behind—even more so when you’d clung to him, rendering him frozen with your unshed tears, a suffocating lump lodging in his throat. He’d never seen you look so small and defeated, shriveled as your vivacious essence was drained. Any doubts of your feelings for him were wiped clean when you’d whispered softly how guilty you felt for wanting to stay with him.

Despite your anguish over your blasphemous confession, a part of him— more mountainous than he cared to admit—was delighted that he’d somehow nestled himself within your heart. He’d kissed you so fiercely, pilfering the breath from your lungs, and uttered thankful praises against your lips for painting his world a little brighter—saturating it with your sweetness.

Now that your time together was extended, he had the luxury of hosting you within his domain. Almost daily he struggled with the task of remaining discreet and careful not to further exacerbate the brewing tension between you, him, and Zoro. Not so secretly Law wished the mossy-haired swordsman had joined the others in their rescue of their cook, though he soon realized how futile that would have been given Zoro and the Cook’s contentious relationship.

What was even more concerning was Zoro’s audacious hovering—the man never let you out of his sight. Evidently you and him had engaged in some sort of tryst and now he’d magnetized himself to you and was digging in his heels. Law had taken for granted the minimized scrutiny he’d had aboard the Sunny and how greatly it’d worked in his favor. Now back on the Polar Tang he was forced to maintain the veneer of a respectable host. Ultimately he found himself lying awake at night, wishing to carry you back to his quarters and lavish you with his mouth and body every second of every day it took to reach Wano.

The question now was: where would everyone sleep? How would they divvy up the common areas? The Polar Tang was quite large, but it was uncertain if it could comfortably house 8 guests. The easiest solution was to drag in the spare cots from the infirmary and send all of the men to the men’s quarters.

With strained indifference he’d sent you and Robin to stay with Ikkaku, whose keen eyes took notice of him lingering in the doorway as you settled in. Between her and Robin he felt far too exposed, but it was understood that they’d never mention anything about it. Not to him anyway.

As the sun dipped into the horizon amongst brushstrokes of apricot and magenta, the mighty sub made its descent, hurtling deep into the ocean’s depths. While the Heart Captain sat in his office a soft knock wrapped at his door.

“Hey Captain,” popped Bepo’s head from the doorway as Shachi squeezed past to join him, “that one Strawhat guy was looking for you earlier.”

Massaging his temples, Law prayed that no one else had tampered with anything else of importance.

“If it’s their shipwright tell him we’ll arrive at the next island in a few days’ time, so he can get the materials to fix that tank Long Nose-ya busted.”

Bepo scratched his head as Shachi struggled to hold in his snicker—he’d been complicit in pranking the sniper after all.

“No, it’s that green-haired swordsman who’s been wandering around all day and knocking things over with those swords of his. I think he’s lost but he won’t tell anyone where he’s trying to go.

He’s probably looking for you, Law thought to himself, remembering how you’d spent most of the day sleeping.

“Figures. Bring him and his astronomically pathetic sense of direction in here.”

“Who’re you calling pathetic,” came a grunt from the other side of the door before Bepo stepped aside.

“Actually Captain he’s right here.”

“Yes I see Bepo, thank you. You both can leave. And Shachi, stop encouraging the Strawhats from wreaking anymore havoc. We have too long of a journey together. We can’t afford anymore repairs.”

“Aye aye sir,” Shachi saluted, failing to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face as he ushered Bepo out of the room and closed the door.

Law and Zoro were finally alone, which had never actually happened before they’d arrived at Zou. Much to their surprise they’d formed a delicate alliance, one that stemmed from their disdain for the ludicrous mourning over Kanjuro’s crude drawing and their shared excitement for meeting a ninja. They’d become tentative acquaintances—save for the awkward chill that surged between them whenever you squeezed in to link your arms with theirs. Side-glancing each other over the top of your head, they reluctantly folded as you guided them along.

Zoro leaned against the desk a few steps from where Law sat, who frowned as the force of the other man’s weight knocked over his lamp.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking anything but.

“What is it that you want Zoro-ya.”

Taking a moment to answer, he ran his finger over the hilt of Wado Ichimonji.

“Where’s she sleeping tonight?”

Setting down his pen, Law swiveled around to face him.

“Somewhere you’ll never be able to find.”

The perilous edge in Zoro’s eye made him snort.

“Relax Hercules. She’s with Nico-ya in Ikkaku’s room.”

Blowing out a breath, Zoro shifted on his feet. “Surprised you didn’t drag her to your lair.”

“Are you saying I’m Hades?”

The genuine befuddlement crossing Zoro’s face prompted Law to trudge neatly along.

“I might’ve thought about it but i figured it would be inappropriate to grant her the privilege in front of everyone.”

Zoro smirked and Law relaxed, leaning back in his seat.

“I would if I could though.”

Zoro glanced aside to the disorganized pile of books stacked in a corner.

“Everyone knows you know. Even your crew.”

“I know.” Law laid his hands over his stomach, drumming his fingers. “But I can at least maintain the illusion that we’re all keeping it professional.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m lookin grab her right now and take her to that...observation aquarium-thingy she likes so much. Makes for a very romantic setting.”

With a scoff Law turned back to his desk. “Good luck finding it.”

A bark of laughter whisked the tension aside as Zoro removed his katanas to lean them next to him against the desk. Carding a hand through his hair he turned to face Law properly.

“I can see why she likes you so much.”

Law’s brow twitched as he was unable to tamp down his confusion.

“She likes people who give it to her straight. Bet you’ve said things to her that most people would consider rude.”

He was momentarily stage-hooked to his first encounter with you and smiled.

“One day I basically told her she looked like shit. Like she hadn’t slept for a week.”

“I see,” Zoro replied, concealing his laugh with a fist over his mouth. “Did she...ever tell you why she has so much trouble sleeping?”

Of course you had. It’d been one of the very first offerings of yourself you’d entrusted him with.

“Almost every night for weeks on end, without even breaks sometimes, they forced me to participate in those underground fighting rings under the threat of being sold as a slave to a Celestial Dragon. All thanks to my shitty parent’s debts. And ever since, I’ve been like a prisoner in my own mind. I don’t think you realize how much you’ve helped me.”

“Yeah, she told me.”

Zoro scratched his jaw.

“She still has those nightmares you know, even now. But I imagine you’ve provided the perfect late-night distraction for her.”

Law’s eyes widened in bewilderment.

“I thought she was with you during all of those late nights. You both seem so close after all.”

“Well. Shit,” Zoro shook his head, “I guess we were both missing our opportunity.”

“I guess we were,” Law affirmed with a wry smile.

A blanket of comfortable silence settled before Law turned back to re-open his book.

“Looks like I’ll have to work harder to find a way to steal her away.”

Zoro’s head snapped back to him, eye gleaming with careful warning.

“She’s not going anywhere.”

Law’s face gave away nothing as he flipped the pages of his book.

“You sure? I can be very convincing. My crew seems to like her already. I’m sure she’d fit right in.”

“She’s not the type to abandon us just because she fell a little for your pretty boy charms,” Zoro muttered, leaning closer.

“Well it seems your Mr. Cool act hasn’t been enough to keep her full attention, so you never know.”

Zoro’s mouth curled in a taunting sneer.

“I definitely had her attention a few weeks ago in our kitchen. And I was also smart enough not to cut it short by the way.”

Law snapped his book shut, bristling as he stood up.

“She told you about that?”

“Not directly. I could just tell. She said it was good though.”

His body eased with relief. He’d been worried he hadn’t given you enough during your last encounter. It was good to know you’d at least liked it. He’d give you so much more if you let him.

“Well luckily I have ways of bringing her to me discreetly, if she wishes. And we’ll have plenty of privacy for me to service her properly.”

Zoro leaned closer, not quite touching his nose to Law’s but close enough to feel the heat from his body.

“Don’t think it’s gonna be that easy to take her just because you made her cum.”

Law countered with unwavering eyes, “I don’t know if you’re trying to offend me Zoro-ya, but this thing between us is much deeper than just satisfying her sexually, and I think you’re underestimating that.”

“I’m not underestimating shit. That’s why I’m telling you. I won’t back off, and I’m guessing you’re not either, so this ain’t personal but I’ll fight you for her if I have to.

Their aggressions squared off until Zoro shifted back to tuck his katanas safely back into his haramaki.

“You’re lucky you’re too noble of a guy to play around with her heart, otherwise I’d have to slice you up just for wasting her time.”

Law remained stood at his desk, arms folded.

“And I know you’re too honorable of a man to sacrifice the greater good of our alliance for some non-beef with me. It’s nothing personal on my end either.”

Fully finished with the conversation, Law sighed and held out his hand. “I’m sending you back to the men’s quarters now since I do not trust you to find it on your own.”

“You’re just trying to get rid of me so you can-“ but his reply was cut short as he was teleported out of the room, replaced with a dirty sock that flopped to the floor.

Collapsing back into his chair, he threaded his fingers behind his head. Considering Zoro’s accusation he now considered actually teleporting himself to Ikkaku’s room and stealing you away. Before he could talk himself out of it he focused on a discarded hairbrush and landed softly on the carpet. You were still sound asleep in your bunk, tightly wrapped in your blankets. As he approached your bed he considered an item inconspicuous enough to swap himself with without being too obvious that his presence had been the reason for your absence.

Settling on a pen, he bundled you up in his arms and swiftly warped back to his room, setting you down on the bed just as your eyes cracked open. His heart fluttered as you gave him a dreamy smile.

“I was wondering when I was going to see you.”

[animelovelover123]

Devil May Cry Boys During Threesomes

Parings: Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, and V x Reader

Synopsis: Short snippets of three-ways between you and two of the boys, because why have one man when you can have two?

Sequel here with added Urizen, Credo, Sparda, Nelo Angelo, and Kat.

Trigger Warnings: These stories have the boys focusing on you, and maybe you subscribed to the “it's not gay if it's in a three-way” idea, but just in case, Spardacest warning. There is only one moment when any of the boys show interest in pleasing the other man (I’ll put that part first so you can skip it if you have a problem with it) and another story where… well let’s just say there is a double-ended dildo involved.

Also bondage, edging, overstimulation, implied double penetration, blindfolding, sex toy, collar and leash, a little sacrilegious talk

Nero & Dante

As soon as you start to lose momentum, your legs losing strength and your body growing tired from the rhythmic bouncing, Nero picks up the slack. With his hands on your hips, he holds you up while he thrusts up into you. Or, if he is really feeling it, lifting and lowering you onto him. This meant that the sound of slapping skin and squishing liquid mingled with the three heavy breaths never let up. That’s the one distracting thing though, the third voice. Nero may be engaging with you, not just with his shaft but also with his lips and fingers that just can’t seem to stop marking your perfect skin, but the third person in this ensemble who seemed content to sit back and simply watch.

“You know, this isn't supposed to be a show.” Nero shot over your shoulder at Dante who was sitting in a chair a few feet from the bed you and Nero were on. “Or are you waiting for your Viagra to kick in old man?” He joked despite it being clear that Dante needed no assistance in getting excited. Dante even chuckled at the remark.

“No, I just didn’t want to steal the show from you kid.” Dante teased right back, his hand still slowly stroking his cock to keep it ready but not too stimulated. Getting off alone wouldn’t be much fun now would it? “But I can wait my turn, makes the pay off all the better don’t you think?” Dante leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs a bit more, and shooting you a wink.

“Ya maybe, but the whole point of this was to properly satisfy this little vixen. Right baby?” Nero asked as he gave one of your ass cheeks a solid smack. Nothing that hurt, but the sound was sharp and the jiggle was enough to make Dante groan quietly at the sight. “So come on,” Nero turned his attention back to Dante. He pulled on your upper back to make you lean forward a bit so that your butt stuck out more. Nero then grabbed either cheek and spread them so Dante had a clear view. “Join the party.”

Dante’s eyes scanned over your body as Nero offered it to him and for a second he seemed to consider something. Then his lips twisted up into a mischievous grin.

“You know, you’re right.” Dante stood from the chair, releasing his cock to instead grab the bottle of lube off the bedside table. “But you know, there is still one more problem. Which one do I go for?” Dante asked but before either you or Nero could say anything, Dante grabbed one of Nero’s legs. In one swift motion, Dante yanked on Nero, making Nero fall back onto the bed and you to fall forward over him. With you two in this position, Dante had access to both Nero’s and your back entrances. Dante’s tongue flicked out to lick at his lips. “On second thought, going back and forth might be even better.”

==+==+==

I tried to avoid having the boys focus on each other since it would just turn into a ship fiction and that’s not the point. But I thought of Dante being his usual confident, out-of-pocket self and doing this and I wanted to use it.

Dante & V

“Songbird~” V moaned in your ear, his chest flush against yours while his hips alternated back from sharp thrusts to sensual grinding. His hands held your hips gently. He would usually wrap you in his embrace, but right now another body blocked him.

“Look V, their legs are shaking.” Dante said, his tone a mix of amusement, desire, and sadistic excitement. Dante could feel your legs every movement as you were sat in his lap, your legs spread on either side of his own. Your back was pressed up against his chest, acting as a backboard of sorts to hold you in place while V picked up speed again.

They both fell quiet, watching you intently. They knew your signs, the tells of when you were just about to reach your peak. And just as the rush was about to kick in, everything stopped. No matter how you protested, it went just the same way as it had done the last two times. Dante had his arms wrapped about your middle, holding your arms and hips down, while V pulled out and away. However this time, unlike the first round, it seemed a lot harder for V to will himself away. He was shaking a bit too and his hands clenched and flexed in an attempt to control himself. He was still aroused, painfully so in fact, just like you and Dante. But there was a thrill in that discomfort and a rush of desire when you protested your third denial.

“Alright V, time to trade.” Dante announced, somewhat impatiently as he released you only to flip your quivering body around.

“Of course.” Even though V’s body was just as wound up as yours, he still carried himself with grace. “Come to me, my dear.” V held you a lot gentler than Dante, more like a cradle to his chest rather than a restrictive hold. He did slide his hands down your arms, gently grabbed your wrists, and lifted them to wrap around his neck, creating a closer bond and making it easy for him to grab and hold you back if need be. You could feel his length, just as hard, poking at your back. But that was paid no mind as Dante settled himself between your legs, his own cock standing tall and eager for attention.

“Alright baby, let's take a few deep breaths and then we can go again.” Dante instructed, his hands messaging your tense and strained thigh muscles. “Forth time the charm, right?”

==+==+==

For my friend and editor who wanted some edging. Feel lucky that I used the idea on my two favourite boys to self-insert romance. Tis an honour you know? lol

V & Nero

Nero collapsed against your back, his weight pushing you down onto the mattress that you had been pressed against and crying out in pleasure into, for the last few minutes. His chest heaved as he dragged in desperate breaths, creating an airflow that you could feel through your damp hair. The sudden movement caused his dick to slide out of you, unplugging you so that his third shot of seed dripped out to join the wet patch caused by his last two rounds.

“Well done~” Purred the silky smooth voice of V who was sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached over and ran his fingers through your hair both as a soothing pet and to brush your hair aside so he could look at your face. “How are you feeling my songbird? Tired?” He guessed as he gazed at your expression and how limp your body lay at this point. Suddenly though, Nero stirred.

“So good.” He practically moaned between panting breaths. He began to grind against your ass and his hands ran down your sides. “You feel so fuckin’ good baby.”

“Such an impatient boy.” Teased V, moving his hand away from your head to grab Nero’s shoulder and gently pull to encourage him to move away from you. “But it would be best if we give our beloved a break. We wouldn’t want to completely ravish her, not so quickly at least.” V more so ordered than suggested as he was calm enough to see how exhausted you were, but Nero didn’t listen. All Nero could hear was the hunger inside him demanding that he keep chasing that blissful high of filling you.

“More.” Nero growled as he pushed off the bed so he sat back on his legs. “Just a bit more.” He ignores any gentle protest you try to make as he grabs your hips and lifts them. He then lets go with one hand so he can grab his cock and drag its head up and down your folds, spreading his escaping seed. The sight of you already marked by him making his desire burn hotter. “Come on baby, you can give me another one right? I’ll make you feel soooo good.” Nero stared at your flexing hole as it tensed in anticipation, a part of his brain telling him it was a challenge. However, just as he started to push in, he was suddenly yanked back by the collar around his neck.

“My goodness Nero, I expected you to be better trained than this.” V criticized, though the smile curling his lips showed how he found Nero’s actions more amusing than bothersome, as he tightly gripped the end of the leash line. Nero’s leather collar had a matching leather leash that was wrapped around a ring on the wall above the headboard of the bed. When V pulled back on the other end, it forced Nero closer to the wall and away from you. “You need to learn to restrain that hunger of yours, then maybe we wouldn’t have to tie you up like this.”

“Please, no.” Nero struggled against the collar, though it was imbued with magic so he could not break it even with his demonic strength. Still, his mind was so clouded by lust that he clawed at the collar with one hand and used the other to attempt to grab you and pull you closer. “I need it. I need you baby.” Nero’s words came out almost like demands. They were deep and sharp, and you could see the primal demonic energy reach out a bit through his eyes that started to shine. V could tell that Nero couldn’t be reasoned with anymore, and that also meant that he was easier to set off.

“If you aren’t going to behave, then you’ll just have to be punished.” V’s smile turned mischievous as he hooked the leash to the post at the foot of the bed, meaning Nero was held right up against the wall where the ring was. V then scooped you up into his arms and away from Nero, who growled under his breath as you were taken further out of his reach. V’s hands slowly roamed your body, his touch a lot gentler than Nero’s, almost soothing to your worn muscles, but were also sensual in their caressing and messaging. V turned his head and whispered in your ear loud enough for Nero to hear while his eyes watched for Nero’s reaction. “Let me show you how to properly treat our sweet songbird.”

==+==+==

I don’t know why I am so into ferial beast Nero. Maybe it's how he looks in DMC5, making him more rugged, dirty, and aggressive-looking. It is a nice contrast to V though, imo.

Nero & Vergil

(Here is a link to a video giving examples of BPMs. You might need it for reference.)

Nero could hardly believe it and he was sitting there watching it happen. It was like something out of a porno, but unlike the actors who could only hold that pace for a few seconds, Vergil’s stamina had you breathless for minutes on end. If Nero, with his love for music, had to describe it he would say Vergil was pounding into you at a consistent bpm of 300-500. You didn’t even have the time to cry out or moan, only gasp and squeak between each thrust. It was almost worth the interruption and insults as it boggled Nero’s mind while being undeniably hot watching you barely hold it together. Even with you bent over and gripping a stool, that shook and scrapped against the floor harshly as if it was about to give way under the assault itself, you would not be able to stay on your feet if Vergil wasn’t holding your hips with a grip that would definitely leave small bruises aligned with his fingertips. Your fingers were white with strain in holding the stool, at least when your hand wasn’t smacking the stool in excess stress or reaching back towards Vergil. Your hair and body sook and jiggled harshly, especially when you kept shaking your head as if trying to communicate that it was too much and that you would not last but Vergil did not give you the ability to speak even if you wanted to.

Vergil, for his part was focused in a way Nero had never seen before. The way his lips tightened into a line, his brows knit in consideration, and the glistening sweat sliding down his face was different than his usual stoic demeanour, even when fighting, yet matched him perfectly. Even though this all started with Vergil’s determination to showcase his superiority, instead of looking to Nero to make sure he was watching, Vergil’s focus was on you. And even as he felt his own climax approaching he would not settle for a one-sided satisfaction. He let go of one of your hips to wrap his arm around your upper chest. His arm muscles flex as he pulls you to his chest, his arm acting like a bar that held you in place and took the brunt of your grabbing and clawing at it as your body reacted to the intense stimulation. Your body jerked and spasmed as Vergil ramped up towards 1000 bpm to properly fuck you through your orgasm. He slowed a bit as his own hit before suddenly dropping you. You try to catch yourself on the stool but your legs collapse like paper under you, bringing you to your knees as you cling to the stool to not fully hit the ground. You can feel the last few spurts of Vergil’s cum hit your back, adding to the almost degrading feeling.

“There,” Vergil said, sounding barely out of breath and still completely in control. “You better have learned from this boy.” Vergil said to Nero like a mildly upset teacher. “I hope for their sake,” Vergil motioned towards your limp body desperately dragging in breaths. “you do better next time or I will have to keep giving you this lesson.”

==+==+==

I don’t know why, but the mental image of Vergil fucking to the beat of Spoiler from Cyberpunk 2077 has been in my brain for the last year. Hopefully, it will leave me alone now. I don’t even like OG Vergil! I know Nero was barely part of this but I had to get the image out of my head and there is also something kind of hot about Vergil having to teach his son how to do it right~

Vergil & Dante

“I can’t believe your lack of tact brother.” Vergil sighed in frustration.

“Tackt? The hell do you know about tack in this situation?” Dante rolled his eyes.

The twins were fighting again, like usual. This was a daily occurrence, except usually you weren’t sitting sandwiched between them as they attempted to share you. But you all knew before this started that sharing was never an option, it was a fight over you.

“Have you ever stopped training long enough to even sleep with a girl before, you nerd?” Dante asked as he finally slid his hand out of your top to grab the neckline, intending to properly undo it, but then Vergil suddenly grabbed the other side.

“Unlike you, I don’t need to practice on insignificant fools just to figure out how to please a woman.” Vergil said smugly as he tugged on your shirt collar, signalling that he wanted to undo it.

“Or maybe you just don’t know how to get the stick out of your ass and pick up women!” Dante shouted back, the comment clearly getting on his nerves. As he did though, he yanked on the collar of your shirt, and with Vergil holding the other end firmly and them both having inhuman strength, it caused that article to rip open, which was a similar fate that your pants suffered not long before.

When you flinched at the loud tearing sound and the chill of the air hitting your now-exposed torso, the twins turned their attention to you.

“Are you alright?" Vergil asked, letting go of his half of your ripped shirt to run a hand up your torso, checking for any possible marks their rough treatment might have caused.

“Oops, sorry about that.” Dante said with a chuckle as he tossed his half aside and cuddled a bit closer to your side. “I’ll buy you a new one, promise.” He sealed the promise with a kiss to your cheek.

“With what money?” Vergil scoffed as he lifted your chin a bit to kiss your jaw, refusing to let Dante have anything over him.

“With the money I make from my business.” Dante answered before peppering your neck with kisses.

“The one that hasn’t gotten a job in weeks?” Vergil bites your neck lightly.

“At least I have income!” Dante bit down hard enough to make you jerk and to leave a mark.

“You can barely take care of yourself, how do you expect to care for her?” Vergil made a head gesture towards you while his hand dragged down your stomach and right into your panties. “I know how to treat this angle as she deserve.” Vergil said with a bit more sultry passion, which was aided by how two of his fingers slid between your slick folds. “Isn’t that right love?” Vergil whispers to you as he easily slips his fingers into you.

“And you think I don’t?” Dante shouted back with a sharp glare as he shoved his hand into your underwear as well. “I make her feel like she is in heaven.” Dante turns to you, his scowl softening into a determined and almost pleading look. “Right baby? I make you feel better than anything you could imagine.” He shoves his own pair of fingers into you alongside Vergil’s. With the doubling up the sensation was a bit more intense.

“Love.” Vergil called quietly as he curled his fingers.

“Baby.” Dante called as well as he began to pump his fingers in and out at a steady pace. “I make you feel better than him, right?” This makes Vergil tear his eyes away from you to glare at Dante with enough intensity to strike fear in a mortal man.

“You wanna bet?” He asked, pulling his fingers out of you to grab the belt of his pants.

“You’re damn right I do.” Dante's smile was smug as he also reached for his own belt buckle.

==+==+==

I HAD to have them bicker the whole time, it is like, the law. I picture this taking place when they are DMC3 age. Imagine, instead of fighting and ruining their relationship, the twins banded together to make sure you drown in love and pleasure. Fuckin’ yes please!

OG & Reboot Dante

Dante was so close, yet nowhere near close enough. The older Dante that is. The younger Dante was doing good, his hands pawing and messaging your chest at a satisfying intensity and rhythm while his lips worked up and down the back of your neck. The other Dante, though, was taking his damn sweet time.

He was kneeling between your spread limbs, his hands caressing your legs and hips while his lips trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He would kiss, nip, suck, and lick his way up towards where you need him most. Then he would go back down towards your knees. You may think he was just a fan of longer foreplay, but if you watch him carefully you can see how pleased with himself he got when you whined and whimpered each time he pulled away from your core, the teasing jerk.

“Dante… more…” You requested, but it was not the older Dante that answered.

“Sure thing baby.” The younger Dante’s soft lips on your neck were replaced with a sharp bite of his teeth. He stopped the messaging of your chest to instead pinch your nipples, giving them a good tug.

“Wait, Dante, stop!” You interject.

“Right, sorry.” The older Dante fully pulled away, sitting back and lifting his hands up. Despite his apology like he had thought that you were talking to him, the smugness of his grin and quirked brow told you that he knew exactly what you had meant. And quickly you were shown that the younger Dante knew too because when you start to complain they both laugh.

It was going to be a long night.

==+==+==

The only reason I have the twins and their Reboot versions working together is so I could make this stupid joke of the Dante’s being little, pleased with themselves shitheads. I love them both. <3

Reboot Dante & Vergil

“Fuck, stop it!” Dante shouted, his body spasming in reaction to the stimuli which only made things worse. “Stop moving!”

“You’re the one who won’t stay still.” Vergil shot back in a tone sharper than he would like. He always did his best to be the more composed of the two, but at this point, he could barely keep his breath steady. And every incessant wiggle, jerk, and fidget Dante made would cause a ripple effect onto, or should I say into, him.

“Can you take this shit out already?” Dante turned his anger, caused by strain and embarrassment, towards you.

You were circling around the two men, gazing down at their glistening backs and watching each muscle twist and roll. You had both their amulets draped around your neck, the obvious reason being to limit their ability to fight back. But it was also a mark asserting your dominance and their places’ as yours. They were both on their knees, respective hands bound behind their backs with a third rope linking them together a foot apart, facing away from each other. Between them, disappearing and appearing at random intervals as Dante kept fidgeting and Vergil did his best to follow the movement to minimize the effect, was a double-ended dildo. Something that they both claimed they wanted away from, not that they could get away with how you had bound their calves to each other’s and the rope tethering their wrist together, yet the way their cocks dripped precum onto the floor told a different story.

“Haven't we had enough?” Vergil added when he noticed your mind had drifted from Dante’s crassly worded request. When you did not answer right away, Dante got more restless.

“God damn it.” Dante began to thrash a bit against his restraint, but soon the jerky motions transitioned into something smoother. “Just… fuck!” Dante’s hips started to unconsciously roll and bounce backward, making the dildo thrust into him.

Dante may not have realized what he was doing, but Vergil certainly did. He tried to hold his breath to stop a moan from slipping out, still trying to deny how good he felt. His body, like Dante’s, betrayed his resolve though as, instead of pulling away from Dante’s thrusts that forced the dildo in and out of them both, Vergil strengthened his stance and held his position.

It takes quite a while, both men being prideful and stubborn, but eventually they break.

“Please, I’m begging you.” Vergil murmurs, cheek pressed to the floor, his usual prim hairstyle flopped over and askew.

“Baby… baby I can’t fuckin’ take it anymore.” Dante’s chest heaved with each breath and drool dripped from the corner of his lip as he looked up at you.

Eventually, you release them, maybe after a bit more begging and them calling you a special title if you feel like it. You untie their legs but not their hands or the rope that links them together. This gives them the space to get the dildo to slide out of them both but not enough to separate so they instead sit back to back with each other on the floor. In the midst of trying to catch their breath though, you call to them.

You sit yourself on a plush chair and finally invite them to you, opening your legs. However, with your positioning and how they are tied together, only one of them would get to have you first. It was a ploy to have them fight a bit. You knew this. They knew this. But they were so on edge from the previous experience that they still fought with all their strength to have the pleasure to get to feel your velvety walls around them first.

==+==+==

I was struggling a bit with forming an idea for this one since I didn’t want it to be just a repeat of OG Dante and Vergil. Then I realized that none of the other parts had YOU being dominant over the boys, so here we are.

Reboot & OG Vergil

You were almost done. It had been 3 agonizing hours but you were almost finished. But why did this guy have to keep talking?

“And I also believe…” The person continued, unaware of your struggle as you sat silently biting your lip and hovering just above your chair just in case.

This was an important meeting and would aid in your collective cause greatly. But it was hard to keep that in mind when at random intervals your specially made undergarments would spring to life, vibrating in either a slow burn or a harsh jolt of sensation. And the worst part was, you didn’t know which of your lovers to shoot a glare or desperate look towards since they both had controllers tucked under the table. Your two Vergils may be different in a lot of ways, but both were masters at poker faces, the younger Vergil’s being a polite smile while the older Vergil’s was bordering on a scowl constantly. So there was no way to tell which of the two suddenly cranked the intensity. They didn’t even seem to notice the way you jolt or the little noises that shot from your lips before you could catch them, unlike the third party who would occasionally glance at you in concern but kept being waved off and told to continue, but you knew better. You have been with them long enough to know that the Vergils were taking a sadistic kind of pleasure in having you at their mercy, making you squirm and turning your body and mind to mush under the on-and-off assault for the past few hours.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the meeting wraps up and the man leaves. As the younger Vergil was seeing them off, the older Vergil watched you carefully. He didn’t say a word, just studied you, the corners of his lips twisted up into the faintest of smiles. Once you both could hear the younger Vergil approaching the meeting room, he stood and approached you.

“Yes, you can head home for today. We will lock up.” You could hear the younger Vergil say to the last of his workers who were hanging around the complex still through the door before he slipped inside with a sigh. “Well that took longer than expected, but this is another step closer to securing our control.” The younger Vergil said as he locked the door. “Now…” He moved to stand on one side of your chair, effectively boxing you in as the older Vergil had positioned himself on your other side. “we can deal with you.” The younger Vergil’s voice dropped a couple of octaves as he gazed down at your slightly trembling form.

“Stand.” The older Vergil ordered, arms crossed as if ready to discipline you if you hesitated.

You slowly brought yourself to your feet, struggling as your legs were tired from flexing in reaction to the sudden burst of vibration and the fact that you spent the last half hour of the meeting hovering an inch above your seat to avoid any attention-grabbing noises. Neither of the Vergil’s helped you up, only waiting patiently while enjoying the blatant effects their medaling has had on your body.

“I must admit, I am impressed.” The older Vergil continued once you were standing. “You held yourself together well, even when that fool kept droning on when he wasn’t asked.”

“And the fact that you put on the lingerie we left for you without even being asked~” The younger Vergil added, scanning your body from head to toe as if he could see your undergarments through your clothing. The lingerie had been left out for you, spread out atop your bed for you with no note. When they did this you knew it was not simply a gift, but an order, so not wearing it was not really an option. Still, the two men were pleased. “I think our dearest deserves a reward.” The younger Vergil hummed as he stepped closer, one hand gliding across your shoulders and moving aside your hair so his hot breath could glide across your neck.

The older Vergil joined in, also stepping closer. His hand started at your middle back and slowly sunk lower. His head leaned in so his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “I couldn’t agree more.”

==+==+==

I was originally going for a rich sugar daddy kind of thing where they keep and control you (think Jumin Han from Mystic Messenger) but I worried that that might be a bit much for people. It got diluted into this which isn’t bad, but I feel it is a bit generic. Oh well, still hot though.

Vergil & V

You couldn’t see anything. The silky blindfold wrapped snuggly around your head and the darkness of the night made you completely blind, which both strengthened and discombobulated your other senses. You can reach out for things but you didn’t know where anything was, how close or how far, meaning that if you do finally find something it is sudden and a shock. Worst though was that the things you wanted to touch most would purposely evade your reach. You could hear, but you didn’t. They were circling you, you could feel their eyes on you like a sixth sense, but they were practically silent. If you were lucky you could catch the creek of the floor, but other than that the only time you got to hear them is when they spoke to you or each other. But even then they would go back and forth, still moving, making it hard to nail down their position.

“You are a stunning creature.” Vergil said, his eyes racking over your nude form.

“A beauty that rivals the most awe-inspiring of art pieces.” Came V’s voice as just the tips of someone's fingers glided along your collarbone before disappearing, leaving you wanting for more, just unsure where to reach to get it. “I just want to stare at your visage all day my dearest songbird.”

“Watching can be nice,” Says Vergil as hands grab your shoulders. You might assume Vergil grabbed both, but you were being held by two right hands. Which belonged to which man was unclear. “But isn’t there something alluring about defiling art?” One of the hands, which seemed to come from in front of you, moves up into your hair. The other, coming to your side, wrapped around your neck in a gentle hold. “Perverting it, making it completely our own?”

“To dirty such an immaculate creature such as our love… one could call it a sin.” Both hands on you tighten a bit. Then the hand in your hair starts to pull you forward while the one on your neck slides to your back, between your shoulder blades, and pushes. “But we were never welcome in the pearly gates, were we?”

“How foolish.” Vergil scoffed. The two hands work together to guide you into bending over. “There is no need to concern ourselves with anything outside of this moment.” The tip of something hot, warm, and slick pressed into your cheek. Without your sight, you couldn’t tell whose it was, but if you reach out to grasp it or take it into your mouth you could figure it out. And soon you felt a similar heat nestle itself between your legs, encouraging you to squeeze your tights together around it. “Because there isn’t anything in heaven or hell that can stop us from taking what is ours.”

==+==+==

This was another one I had a bit of trouble with. I came up with the base idea of them blindfolding you and doing the brief touches then disappearing right away, but I couldn’t decide on specifics. Like, are you tied up? Are you being led around the room or are you still? How long? In the end, I am really happy with what I made, though I did not expect to get a little religious there.

(Divider by @frenchkisstheabyss)

I need to practice writing sex scenes. I have told myself this again and again but I always struggle. If you have read a lot of my stuff you may have noticed that I tend to skirt around the actual sex, either writing general bullet points or leading up to it and then skirting around the action itself. This thing is, and I know it is wired, but I can openly be like “ya, Vergil’s DT in DMC5 has a dragon dick” but trying to actually write, in some detail, sex makes me all embarrassed. I can call someone “a dick” jokingly, but trying to say or write “dick” in a sensual sense just makes me… geagehgeshvdggsrshdwit, I can’t take it! I need to get over it though because I have all these spicy ideas and can visualize them but can’t write them down for other people to enjoy. Also, sex is full of repetitive motions and sounds and I don’t know how to make that interesting yet. So I wrote these, hoping that I could write more blatant sex scenes and I still beat around the bush a bit but I think this is better, right?

Also, anyone notice what I did with how I ordered these? We worked real hard on it. ^^

[sagesolsticewrites]

Love’s Light Wings - Prologue (“For stony limits cannot hold love out”)

John Brady x Juliet Thompson (OC)

Trapped in Stalag Luft III, Captain John Brady does his best to keep morale up, whether that be playing in the small dance band with the other prisoners or passing along the tidbits of information they catch with their hidden crystal radio. The letters they receive are best of all, though, and Brady is no exception— the letters from his girlfriend, with her ramblings about Shakespeare, home, and the goings-on of her high school English students, do more for his spirits than any saxophone solo.

Now he just needs to make it home to tell her… and hopefully ask her a very important question.

a/n: Here it is! The beginning of my darling Juliet's story. So excited for y'all to meet her, and a huge thank you to my bestie @winniemaywebber for letting me slip her OC Olive into this world! I love her so so much, y'all have got to go read the snippet Winnie posted for her story 👀 (and another huge thank you to Winnie and @ginabaker1666 for reading this over and over before I posted it 😅 love y’all!!)

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: none, I think? But please let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Masterlist

March 1944

“Mail call!”

Every soldier crammed inside the small hut perks up at the familiar shout, the one bright spot in the long days, weeks, months spent inside Stalag Luft III. 

“Murphy!” the man calls out, doling out letters to each man as their name is called, “Cleven!”

“Brady!”

John Brady looks up from his well-worn, dog-eared copy of Romeo & Juliet, eagerly grabbing at the wrinkled envelope.

A grin spreads across his face at the return address, the neat cursive as familiar to him as his own name.

Voices eagerly proclaim who they’ve received messages from — “It’s my mom!” an eager, sun-bright announcement, “Marge” in Cleven’s soft, reverent tones.

“Who’s yours from, Brady?” Someone asks, knocking him in the arm.

He fumbles to protect the letter and keep the fragile book balanced in his lap, trying to buy time to will the blush in his cheeks away.

“Juliet,” he says softly, thumb running over the seal of the envelope as he gently opens it, releasing a familiar, though faint, wave of gardenias and vanilla.

Demarco signals for the boys to give the people who’ve received letters some privacy— as much as they can find in the cramped quarters, at least— and Brady nods gratefully as he moves to his bunk to devour the words from his girl.

Juliet Thompson had begun writing herself into Brady’s world the night they met at a small bar in Ithaca, on a cool fall night during his senior year of college. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the pretty dark-haired girl sat at the nearby table filled with Cornell students, and his Ithaca College friends had jeered at him until he worked up the nerve to go talk to her.

Her friends had quickly paired off to dance, leaving her alone at the table, which she seemed perfectly content with. One of them leaned down to whisper something to her as they left, their eyes flicking over to where Brady had been staring, and he quickly averted his gaze as she waved her friends away with a giggle.

Quickly downing the last of his beer, he began to make his way over to her table, accompanied by a few encouraging claps on the back from his friends. 

“Um… hi,” he had said, hands behind his back so she wouldn’t see how he was nervously wringing them.

“Oh!” She looked up from the book she had surreptitiously hidden just under the table, turning to face him with a smile, green eyes sparkling, “Hello.”

That bright smile was the beginning of the end for John Brady as he tried to remember how to speak.

“I, uh… I’m John, I just, er… wanted to come say hello?”

“Well, mission accomplished,” she laughed, and oh Lord take him now, how was her laugh even prettier than her smile?

“Very nice to meet you, John. I’m Juliet.”

“Juliet,” he said, testing the syllables on his tongue. They were as sweet as her smile. “As in… Romeo &?”

“Yes,” she had replied, her red-lipstick smile growing as she joked, “The cost of having an English professor for a father.” 

“Well I think it’s very pretty,” he dared to say, the risk well worth it to see her preen slightly at the compliment. 

He nodded to the book in her hands, “What are you reading?”

He’d never been one for books, but anything, anything, to keep talking to her.

“Well, as it just so happens,” she turned the cover to face him, letting him see for himself.

“Romeo & Juliet,” he laughed, “Very fitting.”

“Why?” She asked, arching an eyebrow, “Because we go to different schools?” She added a theatrical gasp as she continued, “Two houses, both alike in dignity… Are we destined to become star-crossed lovers?”

“I— no, no!” John had rambled anxiously, “I just meant— because of your name—”

“I’m teasing,” she assured him, patting the seat next to her in a gesture for him to sit down, “Apologies if I’m being presumptuous, but you don’t know much about Shakespeare, do you?”

He had admitted that he didn’t, no. His interest had always been music, he’d never paid much attention to his other classes.

“Ithaca makes sense, then,” she nodded, clearly knowing the history of how Ithaca College had started as the Ithaca Conservatory of Music, “What do you study there?”

“Well, I play the saxophone,” he had replied, “and I’m not quite sure what I want to do long term, but I’m working towards my Bachelor of Science, and I like the idea of being a music teacher.”

His heart had done a funny fluttery thing in his chest, seeing how she perked up at the mention of being a teacher.

“I want to be a teacher, too! It’ll be my way of getting to keep talking about Shakespeare once I’ve finished my English degree,” she laughed.

The conversation had flowed easily after that, and before he knew it his friends were waving to get his attention, ready to head back to the dorms.

He had looked at her apologetically as he stood.

“Sorry, I’d better…,” he waved in the general direction of his friends, “ but hopefully I’ll see you around?”

“Hopefully,” she’d said, adding with a grin “If you’re ever in Cornell territory, I’m usually wandering the bookstore on Green Street, especially on Saturday afternoons.”

Today was Thursday. Was that… an invitation?

“In fact,” she said, holding out her book to him, “here. If you get a chance to read it, you can tell me what you thought next time we see each other.”

The words stuck in his throat as his eyes flicked from her to the book, but he’d managed to eventually ask, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” she’d assured him with that sparkling smile, adding with a laugh “I’ve got plenty of copies, this is just the one that fit in my bag for tonight.”

He had a thousand more questions, a thousand more things he wanted to know about this girl— How many copies? Did she always have a book with her? What time on Saturday?— but he could tell his friends were getting impatient.

“In that case… thank you, Juliet,” he said, “And I’ll try to get it back to you as soon as I can.”

“I look forward to it,” she grinned, “It was very nice to meet you, John.”

“It was very nice to meet you, too,” he said, and he had spent the entire journey back to the dorms thinking about the way his name had sounded in her voice.

Back in his bunk in a prison camp in Germany, he can hear her voice in his head just as clearly as he could that night, as if she were standing right next to him.

February 14, 1944

Johnny,

I know it will be long past by the time this reaches you, but what kind of girl would I be if I didn’t wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day, my love. Hopefully you boys find some small way to celebrate— if the band is still going, perhaps you could play our song? I’m sure I could hear it from all the way over here.

I haven’t done much celebrating myself, granted— I’m saving that for when you’re home, darling— but I surprised my students today with a discussion about ‘Much Ado’ and ‘Romeo and Juliet’ rather than the grammar quiz they were expecting, which they seemed to enjoy. I believe one of the boys has a new sweetheart: he was very earnestly taking notes when ordinarily he’d be asleep halfway through class! He seemed particularly fond of R&J’s Act 2, Scene 2– the balcony scene, in case you do not recall. The look on his face as he heard “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep. The more I give to thee, /The more I have, for both are infinite.”…

Dad and Mama have gone for a night on the town— a bit of an early anniversary celebration on top of the usual Valentine’s Day festivities— while I’m off to pay a visit to your mother. I’ve been doing my best to keep her company since your father passed, and will do my utmost best to lift her spirits today. I know it’s difficult to get letters out, but do write her as soon as you can if you get a chance. It would do her a world of good, and I know it would be good for you as well. 

Oh, and do tell Benny that I’ve been keeping in touch with dear Olive. Fellow Shakespeare enthusiast aside, she’s been a true comfort— we have each other to lean on when we start missing you boys too much (though you know I’m always missing you, darling).

I hope and pray with all my heart that you’ll be home soon and we can spend our next Valentine’s Day together. While I adore Olive and your mother, ‘I do love nothing in the world so well as you’. Stay safe, my Romeo.

Sending all my love, a thousand hugs, and a million kisses,

Your Juliet

He reads and rereads her words, closing his eyes as he brings the paper to his nose to inhale the quickly-fading scent. With her being so far away he’ll take what scraps of her he can, the faded perfume, the heart after her signature at the end of every letter, but his mind can’t help but drift back to the last time he had her— on the train platform, just before he was shipped off across the Atlantic.

She’d sniffled, pretty green eyes welling up with tears as she’d forced a brave smile on her face.

“Write to me as often as you can, promise?” She’d said, smoothing out the lapels of his uniform, “I don’t care if you’re telling me what you had for lunch, I’ll wanna hear about it.”

“I promise, sweetheart,” he’d chuckled softly, thumb tracing under her eye to catch the first tear, “As long as you do the same. Keep me updated on what the kids think of our friend Shakespeare, yeah?” He’d bumped her nose playfully, hoping the inside joke would put her real smile back on her face.

And it did, for a moment, before there was a call of “All Aboard!” and her face crumpled and she had thrown her arms around him and it had taken every drop of strength to step away before they left without him.

“Honey,” he’d said softly, cupping her cheek as he took her in one last time, doing his best to memorize every detail— the dark curls framing her pretty, round face, her green eyes, the sweet floral scent of her perfume, the hand slipping surreptitiously into her purse to thumb nervously at the paperback she had inside— “Juliet. I’m coming home, I promise, pretty girl.”

“In one piece,” she’d sniffled, “Come home to me in one piece, please.”

“In one piece,” he’d agreed, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on her mouth. Pulling away just so their noses brushed, he murmured “Parting is such sweet sorrow—”

There was that smile again, and he couldn’t help grinning as she finished softly, “That I shall say good night till it be morrow.” She took a shaky breath as he stepped away, squeezing his hand tight, “I love you, Johnny.”

“I love you more, Jules.” He’d said, brushing a kiss to the back of her hand before he’d had to drop it to pick up his bag, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The last he’d seen of her was her blowing a kiss in the distance as the train had pulled away, and him waving desperately, far past the point where she’d be able to see it.

He’d promised her he’d come home in one piece, and that’s a promise he intends to keep, even here, even now.

Home. When he thought of home before he met Juliet, it was always him with his parents at their little house in Victor, New York. But especially since he was assigned overseas, his idea of home isn’t so much a place as it is her. Her in his arms, her pretty green eyes lighting up as she rambles about Shakespeare, meeting for lunch in her classroom during her planning period, in the audience at one of his performances with the Army band… he wanted her to be his home, to be by his side ‘til death did they part.

Brady had toyed with popping the question in a letter— if they never got out of here, he wanted her to know that he wanted her that way, that she was his forever person.

But no. They were going to get out of here eventually, they had to, and he would do it properly— having asked her parents for permission, down on one knee, with grandmother’s ring— when she was back in his arms.

With that warm, golden thought settling to the back of his mind, he rolls back over to pass on her message to Demarco— with letters being few and far between, his friend will be happy to hear even the tiniest scrap of news about his girl.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

⚡️Something New Snippet

If one absolutely had to wake up, Louis reasoned, it might as well be to…

He paused, taking a subtle whiff.

…Freshly scrambled eggs, he realized, delighted. (Wait, he had eggs? Fresh ones? In his apartment?)

He frowned thoughtfully only for a roguish smile to take over immediately after.

Clearly, whatever Omega he had picked up and brought to bed last night had a great time.

It was an uncharacteristically caddish thought and had Louis been fully awake, he would have, at least, had the decency to be embarrassed by it. But, he was only human, and really wasn’t his best or most progressive self this early in the morning. Right now, all he could process was the immense pride his Alpha felt at satisfying last night’s (admittedly strangely elusive) conquest to the point of having earned breakfast, and that very same Alpha’s need to bask in his victory lap for as long as he could before his one night stand made his inevitable exit. (Romantic.)

And so, he blinked his eyes open, and where his next thought really should have been ‘Why the hell am I sleeping on my couch?’, instead it was simply…

Legs.

For.

Fucking.

Days.

They were smooth, and lean, and perfectly toned, the sinewy muscles flexing and releasing with each minute step to-and-fro as their owner fussed over the stovetop expertly. More importantly though, they were the kind of legs Louis was utterly convinced he would remember – rather vividly, in fact – had they ever been wrapped around him and/or worn as a hat (‘And’, preferably).

It was disconcerting that he had to exert any such effort in searching his memory at all, actually.

Easily top three, he thought to himself, allowing his awed gaze to ascend, slowly, appreciatively, and ever-so-slightly disrespectfully. Of my life, he amended, feeling as though he at least owed this person his full honesty, seeing as it seemed his manners were nowhere to be found.

“You’re awake.”

Two simple words, and yet the lilting voice that carried them was entirely sobering and really all Louis needed to piece yesterday’s events together, his earlier sleep-addled memory making a rather impressive comeback, just in time to save him from humiliating himself, any further. Almost involuntarily, his eyes averted themselves, choosing to stay glued to the bottom cabinet just to the left of Harry’s (apparently glorious) bare thighs.

“You can cook,” is what his mouth managed in response because, despite the already painfully long boot-up time, Louis still wasn’t fully in-charge of all his faculties. At least he had the audacity to seek eye contact. It felt decidedly less creepy.

Harry smirked as he turned back to the stove, moving the pan back and forth before reaching for something to his left.

It was nothing but a quick blink-and-you-missed-it bend, but it was just far enough for the familiar silk boxers he was wearing (Louis’) to ride upwards, which in turn had Louis regressing straight back into the gawking knothead he was not five minutes ago.

“Contents of your cupboards notwithstanding.”

[anonymous-rendezvous]

He Comforts You - Ike 💙

Ike Eveland x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod I ✨. Beta Read and Edited by Mod S 👿.

✧ — Comfort & Care Masterlist | 💙 You comfort him

✦ — Contains: Established Relationship, fluff, & comfort

✧ — Word count: 446 | Ao3

Snippets of time showing how you and your partner care for each other.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

If you could only choose one word to describe how you were feeling after your day at work, it would be 'done'. Not only had your boss called out today, but they had also left you with the amount of work that would normally need three people to complete. Which meant you had to stay long after your shift had already ended. And you wouldn't even be paid more for it. You'd quit in a heartbeat if you could afford it.

You were all but stumbling as you entered your home. The door shutting behind you with a little more force than intended as you leaned your weight back against it. You don’t even have the energy to lean down to properly remove your shoes; toeing them off and leaving them haphazardly in front of the door. However, you don’t get even two steps further into the house before Ike emerges from the hallway. His expression softens at the sight of you, giving you a sincere smile. “Welcome home, darling.” You return his smile, albeit yours being a tired one.

He’s by your side in no time, taking your hand in his. The novelist starts leading you down the hallway and before you can even ask where you're going; he pushes the bathroom door open. The soothing smell of eucalyptus and spearmint fill the room thanks to the candles he’d lit beforehand; giving the room a soft glow. The tub was filled, and you eyed it longingly, no doubt that the water was still warm. Your attention is drawn back to your loving boyfriend as a hand lightly rests on the small of your back, the warmth radiating through your clothes “Come on darling, let's get you in, shall we?” His hand glides up to help slip off your jacket. “I have the kettle on if you want a cup of tea while you soak.”

“Ike you didn’t have to do all this–”

He silences you with a gentle peck to your lips, “You’ve had such a rough day hun, just let me treat you.” He helps remove the rest of your clothes before helping you into the tub. As you sink further into the warm water, you can’t help but release a sigh of contentment. He chuckles affectionately, kneeling beside the tub so he can brush aside a few stray strands of hair before placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back with your tea in a moment. Take as long in the tub as you need.”

Just before he leaves the room, you call out to him. He pauses with a questioning hum. “Thank you, Ike. I seriously appreciate it.”

“Of course, my dear.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

[diversestardewvalley]

Diverse Stardew Valley 4.0 Sneak Peak!

Hey everyone! DSV 4.0 is getting close to being done, so I thought I’d show off some of the cool stuff that’s gonna be included! 😊 I’ve also been sharing little snippets in the DSV Discord server recently, so if you’re not already a member, check our website for the link.

It’s pretty long and has a lot of images, so click through to see them!

The big news is that DSV 4.0 will move back to an all-in-one download (and will also be hosted on Nexus again) with a SMAPI component, DSV Core, which will consolidate all of the config options for more convenience. DSV Core is the hard work of KediDili from a concept originally by Nuztalgia!

It’ll also mean that other mods will be able to read your DSV config choices, which opens up a lot of potential for compatibility! Platonic Partners and Friendships users may be familiar with how this works, since PPAF has a similar feature and DSV is able to automatically provide compat depending on your PPAF config.

[image id: two screenshots from DSV Core showing a selection of configuration options. The first is a table of contents and the second shows some of the options available in the Global Options page.]

Options will be divided into different pages so that it’s not an overwhelming list of choices, and DSV Core will also automatically disable compatibility options for other mods if you don’t have that mod installed, so it’ll reduce some of the option clutter. We’ve also future-proofed the config so that you also won’t need to redo your config settings when we add more options in the future and added a function to automatically fix common typos in manually-edited config.jsons!

[image id: a screenshot showing DSV Core’s page of Compatibility options.]

As you can see in the screenshot above, 4.0 will also add dialogue for many characters related to DSV’s variants! This feature has been much requested and a lot of people have contributed dialogue, so thank you to everyone who wrote some lines for us 💖 If you’re interested in helping out with dialogue as well, feel free to join the DSV server and chat to us about it!

Another major content update will be DSV’s swimsuits! We’ve updated all of the swimsuits to have fresh new designs, and there’ll be a new option for every character with a beach swimsuit in the vanilla game to use either the vanilla design (with some minor tweaks to clean up art issues & match DSV’s bases) or the DSV design.

[image id: a selection of portraits from DSV showing the characters’ vanilla variants wearing the DSV Style swimsuits]

[image id: a selection of portraits and sprites from DSV showing the characters’ vanilla variants in a before and after of the default swimsuits on the left versus the updated Vanilla Style swimsuits on the right.]

Other stuff being included is a skintone saturation boost for modded Harvey and Black Emily and Haley, after feedback from our sensitivity checkers...

[image id: a before and after of DSV’s modded Harvey and Black Emily & Haley showing the difference in skintones.]

...new & updated outfits for some characters (Emily’s outfits are by Meowpix while Sebastian’s ao dai is by Elaho)...

[image id: a selection of portraits from DSV showing updated outfits for Abigail, Sebastian, and Emily.]

...compatibility with Life Cycle and other mods...

[image id: portraits for DSV’s modded Caroline, Emily, Kent, and Demetrius showing new formalwear.]

...options for small immersive features...

[image id: portraits for DSV’s modded and vanilla Abigail wearing a variety of goth makeup looks.]

...and saving the best for last, DSV’s best girl Marigold will be making a return with updated art! She’ll be a non-friendable NPC and will require Sprites in Detail as a temporary measure until SDV 1.6 is released, but she’ll also have more dialogue, including dialogue from Linus about her, and new animations 🐕‍🦺

[image id: a screenshot of Linus’s tent showing his service dog Marigold with larger updated sprites.]

Thanks to everyone that’s supported us and I hope you’re all hyped for DSV 4.0! 💖

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP,

I really enjoy your blog and your level-headedness when it comes to everything surrounding BTS and Jikook. You often post really good takes and answer asks quite comprehensively.

Which is why I'm sending my ask to you regarding that short clip of Jikook at the airport during the baghug.

First off: Jimin seemed to really need that hug, it seems, because he (a) seemed a bit subdued during the walking-in part and (b) ge literally barrelled into Jungkook. There was impact made even tho JK was barely bothered. Maybe that interpretation of desperation instead of affection is what makes me a bit sad about my observation.

That JK did indeed remove Jimin. It's not like similar situations when JK was still a teen - it was rather gentle. From another angle, it looked like Jikook both moved at the same time after that talk with their bodyguard. A simple "okay, now it's time for travel business" motion.

I don't even know why this makes me think so much? Why I circle back to the fact that it wasn't entirely wanted which is apso not true, since JK was going along for the majority of the clip. Even swaying. Especially when we know Jikook are just as close as they've always been. I don't think the physical separation during their individual album releases hurt them, they're too good of friends for that. There are bonds in your life, nothing but an actual intense disagreement can ruin. And didn't we still get Kookie flirting with Jimin, and Jimin joining his golden concert?

I think, whatever they're up to in Tokyo, it will give them a lot of time to spend together. Off-line. Recuperating.

----

I read somewhere that In The Soop was kind of conceptualised to counteract a drifting apart of the members during the pandemic. Maybe Jikook and Hybe came to the conclusion, that with their schedules being what they are, producing a show would be the perfect cover-up for spending time together with the added benefit of having enlistment content. If that's the case, it makes it doubly...interesting let's say, that it's not all four or just the Maknaes or any other combination going places. That no other member has been mentioned in connection to this.

*

Ask 2:

Idk if this will make sense, I'm the somewhat insecure ask from a few hours ago. Panicking about that dumb airport clip.

Well. I'm not anymore.

Because Jikook are allegedly headed to Sapporo (spelling might be wrong, sorry). The more we learn - even in snippets - about this trip, the more fuzzy my heart feels. Happy, even.

They went to Tokyo as close as they could probably manage to their last trip there, aka the GCF Tokyo anniversary. That last time was a "REAL LOVE" declaration during a time neither were in a really good place. Tokyo was an escape removed from the worries of their life and fame. A snow globe of happiness, you can shake every time your demons get to you. A gift from one person seeing the one always taking care of them falling apart, and deciding to take the weight of their shoulders. It's so fucking beautiful.

And now, after a year of emotional turmoil with their hyungs enlisting, of the physical separation that releasing two incredibly important albums brings, of duties and barely any breaks. Now they go back to Tokyo and Japan just before they have to enlist.

None of this is a coincidence.

To add to that Sapporo. Where it's snowing now. The implications for Jikook are big. We know Jimin loves snow, that JK knows that as much as we do, that watching the first snow together is a superstition for Korean couples. And now Jikook are there, in the first major Japanese city legalising same sex marriage - the city of love. While JK wore a rLOVElution hoodie, a line being dedicated to lgbtqia+ acceptance, just like during his NY outing with Jimin.

I could criticise everyone villifying their bond here, but now I don't want to anymore. Just look at what Jimin and Jungkook get to experience, even if only for a little time, and tell me that it's not the most beautiful thing.

The person having "please love me" tattooed on his body and the person singing "just let me love you". Serendipity and Euphoria. Black and White. Sun and Moon. Poets would weep cause they couldn't write a love this beautiful.

***

Anon,

After you sent in the first ask I started drafting my reply to you (pasted below the asterisk) but left the draft unfinished because I had life to attend to. Then you sent in the second ask, and what you've said in this second ask is so beautiful, I don't want to ruin it with my pontificating. So I'll leave my draft unfinished (I think you eventually answer in the 2nd ask what you're asking in the 1st).

Regardless of anything, jikook have a real connection, a real relationship, and a real history. What exactly that looks like I don't know, but I do know whatever it is, it's real.

*

Draft:

“I read somewhere that In The Soop was kind of conceptualised to counteract a drifting apart of the members during the pandemic. Maybe Jikook and Hybe came to the conclusion, that with their schedules being what they are, producing a show would be the perfect cover-up for spending time together with the added benefit of having enlistment content.”

Let's not dismiss this right away, because there’s a possibility you're right and this could be true. But I don't see any of this, in my opinion. I don't think this Japan trip is arranged by the company because they're drifting apart, though I agree it's being made for content to keep parts of the fandom engaged. My counterpoint to that though is that if BigHit really was making this just for greenbacks, it would've made more sense for this to be a taekook trip and not jikook - given taekookers are the largest and oldest shippers in the fandom, and this would've been an easy way for BigHit to capitalize on the recent bromance we've seen from them in chapter 2. But it's jikook, and there could be many reasons for why, maybe sometime down the road Tae joins them or we get a similar show with him, but right now, with everything that's led up to now, the easiest explanation for why jikook are going on this trip is because they want to.

And that's good enough for me.

[lycanlupins]

Second Chances - Jason Todd x Original Female Character

AN: this was a passion project while i was at a very low point mentally and couldn’t churn out my roy fic or any content honestly. I’m getting better and getting back in the swing of things and just wanted to give y’all a snippet of what I’ve been writing behind the scenes as a way to vent! ♥️ pls enjoy

CONTENT WARNINGS: This fic will contain; Referenced CSA, Referenced SA, Referenced Drug Use and Alcohol Use, Explicit Sexual Content, Physical Mental and Emotional Abuse, and will add more tags as needed! Please read at your own risk, I will add content warnings at each chapter beginning ♥️

In case you’d like a link to the AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60590161/chapters/154698973

The Iceberg Lounge buzzed with the usual clientele, a mix of Gotham's elite and the city's underbelly mingling in a symphony of whispered conversations and clinking glasses. Jason Todd, ever the observer, scanned the room, his sharp gaze honed by years of living on the edge. His head hung low low, obscuring his features. His eyes sharp, restless, betrayed a simmering tension beneath the surface. He'd come to the Iceberg Lounge seeking a diversion, a break from the endless cycle of violence that consumed his life. He found himself drawn to a woman seated at a table in the corner, her back to him.

She was a vision of elegance amidst the opulence of the lounge. Her dark curls cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that held the allure of mystery. Her tanned skin and captivating brown eyes, full of warmth and just a hint of sadness, held Jason's gaze. Something about her, a quiet strength that resonated with his own hardened spirit, captivated him.

He moved through the crowd with an effortless grace that belied the chaos within him, his steps measured, deliberate. As he neared her table, he caught a glimpse of her profile, the delicate curve of her jawline, the way her lips moved as she spoke, and a wave of something unfamiliar washed over him. It wasn't just attraction, though that was undoubtedly present; it was a sense of intrigue, a yearning to unravel the secrets hidden beneath her enigmatic facade.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to the seat opposite her. His voice, a low rumble, carried a hint of a northern accent, a remnant of his former life before the darkness claimed him.

She turned, her eyes meeting his with a spark of curiosity. Her lips curled into a slight smile, a delicate twist of amusement that sent a shiver down Jason's spine.

"You're Jason Todd, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice low and melodic.

He nodded, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "And you are?"

"Marcy," she replied, extending a hand towards him.

He took it, her touch sending a jolt through him. Her fingers were cool, yet strong, and he held them a moment longer than necessary, reluctant to release the connection.

"You know a lot about me, Marcy," he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Gotham is a small city, Jason," she replied, a knowing glint in her eye. "Word travels fast."

"Tell me, what words have you been hearing about me?" he questioned, his interest piqued. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was more than just a casual observer. Her presence exuded an air of confidence, a certain knowledge of the city's dark underbelly that intrigued him.

"Let's just say I have my ways around Gotham’s elite," she said, her eyes meeting his with a hint of challenge.

"And you do it with such elegance," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her face.

She chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent a thrill through him. "I make do with what I have."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the lounge's chatter providing a backdrop to their unspoken exchange. Jason felt a strange sense of ease with her, as though their lives had somehow intersected before, despite the fact that they were strangers. He couldn't help but wonder what drew her to the Iceberg Lounge, a place frequented by the city's most notorious figures.

"You're not exactly a regular here," he commented, breaking the silence.

Marcy's smile faded, replaced by a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Neither are you."

"No," he admitted, "but I'm drawn to the darkness."

"And I, to the light," she countered, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"That's a curious thing to say for someone who frequents a place like this," he noted, raising an eyebrow.

"I find beauty in the unexpected," she replied, leaning back in her chair, her gaze meeting his. "Perhaps I'm searching for a glimmer of hope in a city that seems to revel in its darkness."

He couldn't help but be drawn to her honesty, her willingness to reveal a vulnerability beneath her enigmatic facade. It was a side of her he hadn't expected, but it only deepened his fascination.

"I think I understand," he said, his voice softer now. "But be careful, Marcy. The darkness has a way of clinging to you."

Her lips curved into a smile, but this time, there was no hint of amusement.

"I know," she said, her voice laced with a quiet strength. "But it doesn't have to consume you."

Their conversation continued, weaving through the intricacies of Gotham's underbelly and their own personal histories. Marcy was surprisingly knowledgeable about the city's criminal underworld, her insights sharper and more nuanced than anyone he'd met before. He felt a growing sense of respect for her, not just for her intelligence and wit, but for the resilience that radiated from her being. He couldn't shake the feeling that she held a secret, a hidden depth that hinted at a past filled with trials and triumphs.

The music shifted, a haunting melody that seemed to echo the darkness that clung to Gotham's heart. Marcy rose to her feet, a graceful movement that defied the gravity of her emotions.

"I should go," she said, her voice a whisper against the throbbing pulse of the music.

"Wait," he said, his voice urgent. He didn't want this encounter to end, not yet. He had a sudden and powerful urge to know more about her, to uncover the mystery that lay beneath her captivating exterior.

"You're curious," she observed, a hint of amusement playing at the corner of her lips.

He nodded, unable to deny the truth. "More than curious."

"I'm not easy to unravel, Jason," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of warning. "But if you're willing to take the risk, I might just let you in."

The night was young, and the city held countless dangers, but Jason knew he had to find a way to see her again. There was something about Marcy, an untamed spirit that mirrored his own, that promised a connection he desperately craved. As he watched her walk away, a flicker of hope ignited within him. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for a glimmer of light in the darkness of his life.

[hederasgarden]

Hey bestie! ❤️ We need more sierra six x dom - i've recently rewatched the gray man and your fics ignited the fire even more, especially the dom one...so good! 🤌🤌 (dont feel pressured tho, only if you feel like writing)❤️

So happy you liked it!

I am working on part 2 as we speak. Please enjoy this little snippet.

Warnings for D/s dynamics, submission, kneeling and subspace. Mild sexual content. 18+ only.

Masterlist ♡ The Grey Man Masterlist

“Open your mouth,” Six says, reaching into the bowl of fruit. The blackberry looks tiny between his thick fingers. They're warm and dry as they slip past your lips to deposit the berry on your tongue. “Chew,” he says, withdrawing.

The berry is ripe enough that it melts in your mouth, sweet and tart. You sigh at the taste and rub your cheek against his thigh.

“You’re going to eat this whole bowl for me,” he says and you respond with a soft, yes sir.

He feeds you each piece of fruit by hand, peppering in praise for how well you’re doing and offering you a sip of water now and then. More than the fruit you love the feel of his fingers in your mouth, their heavy warmth, and the hint of salt on his skin. You think about having something else there. Another way you might make him happy and help yourself relax. The image has you pressing your thighs together and your heart racing.

With each soft word of encouragement and the building heat in your belly, you grow a little bolder. The next time he deposits a piece of strawberry in your mouth you close your lips around his fingers before he can withdraw. You suck on them, tongue curling around his thumb with a low moan.

Six inhales sharply, a ripple of something passing over his normally blank face. It’s only a moment but it’s enough to embolden you further. You lift your head and grasp his wrist, repeating the action with your tongue. He stares at you for a long moment, breathing shallowly. The hand you place on his upper thigh seems to snap him out of it. His jaw flexes and he pulls his fingers from your mouth.

“Sir….I’m sorry.” You draw back embarrassed, but he’s quick, leaning forward to grasp your jaw firmly. His face is impassive once more and when he speaks his voice is calm and measured.

"This is not why we’re here today,” he reminds you. Even though you want to look away from his intense gaze, you know you’re not supposed to do so you force yourself to keep looking.

He releases you and leans back, shifting in the chair before relaxing again. "Now, put your head back where it belongs," he says, picking up the bowl again.

[childotkw]

Hi! I'm a fan of your Lucemond content and I'm finally brave enough to ask about your "Dichotomy of Loyalty" AU (that is if you're okay with answering). What exactly happens during Lucerys's abduction / forced familial reunion? Your post says that the house is ransacked, Laenor is gone, and there's a black car outside. What goes on during Lucerys's last minutes of freedom before he is brought back into the family?

Does he attempt to call the police and find a hiding place? Does Aemond pop out like Michael Myers if he's inside the house or does he force his way in? If Laenor has a weapon someplace (despite wanting a normal life, the man has to be aware that he's a fugitive in the mafia underworld now and needs to have a just-in-case weapon handy), does Lucerys try to reach it? Or does Lucerys arm himself with a knife and a near reenactment of what happened years before take place between him and Aemond?

I'm sorry to force this on you, but this time placement in your AU is probably the most suspenseful and action-packed scene. Would it be alright if I ask more questions I have on this AU or do you want your focus on your other writings? Thank you so much for sharing your creations!

Hello, darling! Thank you for your message 💕

Lucerys was actually meant to be at their home when it got raided. They’d been watching and following him for weeks before they made their move, learning his habits and schedules and confirming that he was actually their Lucerys.

Normally, Lucerys would have finished work early on Fridays, but something came up and he had to stay back - which wasn’t uncommon but it hadn’t happened since the Targaryen’s had begun their reconnaissance. So they raided the house, expecting both, but it was only Laenor there at the time. They took him and threw him in the second car, then settled in to wait.

Lucerys came home, and when he found the house wrecked he immediately tried to phone Laenor, and then the police. Before the call went through, he was grabbed from behind - but Lucerys, despite being small and looking soft, did know some self-defence. His elbow slammed into the guy’s face, and the second he was released he bolted.

Unfortunately though, Lucerys couldn’t outrun the men sent to retrieve him. He was subdued, knocked out, and whisked away.

Aemond was, in an impressive show of restraint on his part, not actually part of the retrieval team. Everyone, including him, knew that if he had been there, there was the chance that he’d be too emotional and things might go wrong. Instead, he was waiting at the main house for the men to return.

When they did rock up with an unconscious Lucerys something loosened inside Aemond, because they had suspected that Lucerys had no memories of them or their family, but not everything about his nephew was lost. There was still that savagery in his blood, the savagery that sang out to Aemond, evident in the bruise forming on one guard’s cheekbone, the deep scratches on another’s arms, and the scuffed clothes and cut eyebrow of the other.

And feel free to ask me whatever you like! I don’t always write snippets, but who knows - something you ask may kick my brain into gear!

[sarandipitywrites]

Snippet Sunday

look. i tried to make this snip shorter. i really did. but we kind of need all the context for this to make sense. so have all the context! here's Vy and Jules(?) having a super fun conversation in Spark Signature:

cw: possession, self-harm, blood

There was a time when Jules’s apartment felt more like a home than Vy’s own. When they’d make the drive from the Othello Academy down to Rainier Beach, it was never with the looming dread of having to face people who only cared for them out of obligation—out of love for somebody else. When they went home with Jules, they weren’t going home to Erik and Minh; they were going home to no one.

At that time, more than anything else, that was what Vy had needed.

Jules’s apartment now is nothing like home and everything like a cage. And, in spite of Vy’s wishes, it’s anything but empty.

Jules paces the kitchen, running his hands along the countertops, over his arms, through his hair. His voice—a low, constant murmur—fills the air like haze, clinging to every surface and making Vy’s hair stand on end. He doesn’t even seem to hear the door open, doesn’t see Vy at all. Not until they’re standing across the bar from him, a world and an island and a foot-and-a-half away. He blinks—slow, catlike. “…Vy?”

The surreality, the incongruence, the wrongness of it all dries Vy’s mouth, coats their tongue in sand. But they have to say something, do something. “You, uh… you okay?”

“Fine.” He crosses his arms; his hand wraps around the flexed muscle of his biceps and he flinches. A moment of hesitation; he props his hip against the bar instead, tail lashing. “You’ve been out for a long time.”

“Just. You know. Working.” What is wrong with him? Does he know where Vy’s been, that Vy knows? Sure, Vy came back to tell him, to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but that’d been when Vy thought they’d have the upper hand, the first shot, not that Jules would be lurking around the apartment, all—

“You smell… strange.”

Okay, what the actual fuck? “I… took the maglev?”

“No. Strange like blood, strange like…” His nostrils flare. His wings twitch. Not that nervous twitch, that Jules twitch. This feels… preparatory. Predatory. “What did you see?”

The answer comes out like thinking, like breathing. They couldn’t hold it in if they tried. “You.” It hangs in the air between them, a ghost of what Vy’d witnessed, what Jules had done. When he says nothing, they continue: “That person—Dr. Poole—what happened? What’d you do?”

“Nothing.” It’s not a word; it’s a hiss. A baring of teeth. “Nothing they didn’t deserve.”

It’s not him. It’s not him, but it’s fierce and feral and familiar. It’s bloodstained lips on a holoscreen, eyes like frozen blood glaring across a pub table.

Vy’s never believed in possession; people, once dead, were content to stay that way. But, before Jules, they’d never heard of Sparks lingering after separating from their bodies, either.

Jules found the Ether by accident; who’s to say nobody in the Ether noticed? What would stop someone from using him to hitch a ride back to the material plane?

“Jules, if you can hear me?” Vy edges away from the counter, back towards the door. “I need you to come back, now.”

“What did you see, exactly?” Not-Jules slinks around the kitchen counter, into striking range. “It’s easy to… misinterpret a situation, isn’t it?”

“Totally. So easy.” Their combats scuff over the entryway’s mat. “You know, that’s… probably it. I just misunderstood. Silly me! I’ll just…” their fingers search for the button, the door’s interior release, “head back out. See what else I can find today—”

“No. This is more important.” Claws click across the vinyl stone floor. “We need to clear this up. We wouldn’t want the wrong information getting—”

Vy’s hand finds the button. The door hisses open behind them.

Not-Jules stops. “Vy.” They tilt their head, a razorblade smile splitting their lips. “Don’t run from me.”

Vy stumbles back, through the door into the hallway. The stairwell’s enclosed; if they go that way, they’ll have nowhere to run. The elevator can be stopped remotely; it’s even worse. They turn and sprint towards the end of the hall—the fire escape.

“Vy!” They glance over their shoulder; Not-Jules stands in the hallway, claws digging into their own forearms. Blood wells in their wake, flowing and glowing and crackling.

Hemomancer. Not-Jules is a hemomancer.

“Don’t fucking run from me.”

Spark Signature taglist (ask to be added or removed): @leah-yasmin-writes, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @mundanemoongirl

[the-letterbox-archives]

the archive's stories - current wips

hello, all! this is letters, here with a small update for you! i wanted to touch base, as it were, with updates for all the ongoing stories within the archives, as well as some potential new documents!

progress is slow for most stories (dw though, i'm immune to burnout haha), but my passion has not diminished, and chapters are still in development at all times! here's an update as to where everything's at;

tales from a dying heart is moving to part 2 of book 1, but i'll be honest, i'm very nervous to release tfadh content since i feel it's in somewhat high demand around here. don't worry, it and the other books are still on the way!

the rockdove promise's chapter 3 is nearly done, and should be out soon! chapter 4 will be an easy go after that.

insincere. has almost reached lesson 5: crossing the street, which i'm so proud of! first chapter 5!! ven's gonna need a very long nap, after what i'm planning, though...

on kingston alley is going well too, onto episode 4! excited for this one, and the next little arc, it's gonna be a blast!

school rules is picking up steam, and episode 3: freedom of the press, is underway! and who knows, maybe a new student may make themselves known on that week's broadcast...

dulcinea is dead has hit a bit of a roadblock, i'll admit. i have sci-fi paralysis (there will be many aliens, and that's what got me), but never fear, for chapter 2 will be coming, from dulcinea's pov this time!

the dumaresq poems is a bit harder to predict, since i want to release them in "sets," where each of the 5 kids get one poem each (and i may start releasing prose snippets for fun, to give more insight on our lovely poets!), so i can't say when those will be ready, but they are coming!

and to talk about the mystery project, red velvet (whose name is going to change before release), chapter 1 is on the way! i need to get used to the narration style first, but the way the beginning is plotted, when i get the hang of that, the chapters will flow! very excited for this one, and thanks to everyone who's expressed interested and asked to be on the tag list or helped with the title!

gosh, that's such an uneven number though. 7 (pending 8) isn't a great number of wips, at least in my opinion. maybe just 2 more.... an even 10? yeah... maybe i should start looking for some more stories..

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

tagging the crew for this one :)

@wyked-ao3, @48lexr, @melpomene-grey, @thecrazyalchemist, @thecomfywriter, @moltenwrites, @yourpenpaldee, @glassfrogforest, @the-golden-comet, @gioiaalbanoart, @paeliae-occasionally, @ominous-feychild, @drchenquill, @tc-doherty, @corinneglass

[saint-felicias-writing-corner]

I'm still working on getting my new dedicated writing space up on Tumblr, and in honor of finishing You're the Two, my longest story to date, I wanted to share a snippet of some content that DIDN'T make it into the story. Maybe I'll find somewhere to repurpose it, maybe I won't, I don't know yet.

For those that read the story, this would have taken place about midway. I don't remember why I ultimately decided against using it.

== Cut content from You're the Two ==

The throb of the bassline pounded through the packed club’s floor, stomped and reverberated by the throng of sweat glistened bodies writhing together on the dancefloor, limbs and torsos bare and wet, sliding together like sex on display. 

Eddie fidgeted in his seat. “I’m not sure about this, Buck.” The man looked terrified as he watched the dance floor.

Buck laughed. “We’re not dancing, Eddie. We’re just… watching. You’re really telling me this is your first time in a gay bar?” Buck scanned the counter across the way looking for Tommy, who was currently fetching their first round of drinks. 

“It’s not just dancing, Buck! It’s all of it. This isn’t who I am.” Eddie picked at his shirt, a sheer black thing with golden filigree. 

Buck smiled and watched the hints of tanned skin peek out from behind the lace and thread, like swirls of creamer sliding through black coffee. The moment he saw the shirt, he knew he had to see Eddie in it. And the man didn’t disappoint. He rested his hand reassuringly on Eddie’s arm. He could feel the small tremble in the other man ease at their connection. “That’s why we’re here, remember? We gotta figure out *who* you are now!”

“I’m not this though,” Eddie lamented, brown eyes wide and reflecting the rainbow hues of the dancefloor. 

“Then we’ll have a drink, a laugh, and a story to tell afterwards.” Buck pulled Eddie’s distant gaze to him. He swallowed hard, throat suddenly parched as those chocolate brown eyes focused entirely on him. Where were those drinks? “Try? For Tommy? For me?” Buck’s pleading voice was drowned by the loud electronic remix, his words safely tucked into Eddie’s ear alone. 

Eddie smiled his small, uncomfortable, out of place smile. The one that Buck realized was one of his favorites not more than a week ago. “One drink…”

That was okay. Buck had enough smile for the both of them. “I’ll take what I can get.”

Was that a blush? Buck couldn’t tell with the lightshow, but he swore that the apples of Eddie’s cheeks had reddened a bit. The gaze pinning him released its hold, scanning around the club with the same relentless drive. Buck watched Eddie explore, searching his face for any signs of enjoyment. 

Instead, he saw recognition flash through brown eyes, then seething rage.

“What’s wrong?” Buck followed the sightline of Eddie’s hawklike glare to the area near the exit. 

“That’s him.” The warmth in Eddie’s voice had evaporated. 

Buck tried to locate ‘him’ in the group of people moving through their vision, but nothing sparked recognition. He reached for Eddie’s arm, but the other man was already pushing himself to his feet and stalking toward the exit. So he called for him instead, but his voice was quickly swallowed by the music around them. *Him*. He searched for Tommy while trying to keep Eddie’s position in the crowd. Buck watched as Eddie muscled his way through a trio of talking patrons. The rainbow lights reflected briefly in the slosh of their disturbed drinks. He didn’t even offer an apology. *Him.* Who was Eddie talking about?

He didn’t register Eddie’s name leaving his lips. Buck watched, mixed shock and horror, as Eddie approached a couple near the exit. They had appeared to close before Eddie had interrupted. Buck watched as the darker skin man gestured angrily, pushing at Eddie’s chest. The moment of separation was all his companion needed. He pushed past the two of them and scrambled for the door, knocking over a drag queen in his hustle. Eddie tore after him, beelining toward the exit. 

Tommy set their drinks down on the table. “Where’s Eddie?”

Buck stood up, hand bracing against Tommy’s arm. “Call Athena… I think Eddie’s running down the guy that jumped him.”

“What? Evan, wait!”

Tommy’s voice suffered the same effect as Buck’s. The barest hints of the words listed against his ears as he danced through the crowded club, trying desperately to fold his six foot two inch frame into enough contortions to avoid interrupting conversations. A litany of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ peppered his brief interactions as he squeezed past, more successful in some cases than others. 

The hot California air clawed at him the moment he passed the entrance, stopping just long enough for the bouncer to wrap a paper strip along his wrist for re-entry. The air stank of smoke, the outdoor smoking patio already filled with socializing clubbers. Buck scanned for Eddie, blatantly ignoring the way he was being sized up by those already present. 

“Eddie!” The name tore from his lips, ragged and concerned. Those that weren’t interested in his body were suddenly interested in the possible tea. Lover’s quarrel? Bad breakup? They speculated amongst themselves ask Buck called again. 

A loud thundercrack ripped through the air, silencing conversations in its wake. Buck’s fearful gaze flew skyward, but the emptiness of the night sky, devoid of stars, greeted him. Two more thundercracks soundend in quick succession. Panic set in, the outdoor crowd tossing their cigarettes in ashtrays and frantically worming their way back into the club. Buck hopped the small divider between patio and sidewalk.

“Eddie!” His voice carried more purchase. 

Street lights twinkled off golden filigree in the distance. Buck rushed to his friend, his long legs carrying him quickly. Eddie looked tired in the streetlights, hollowed out. 

“I had him, Buck.” Eddie’s voice was a whisper.

Buck pulled him into a hug, one hand along Eddie’s shoulders, the other curling through his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll get him.” Eddie’s trembling arms wrapped around Buck’s waist and he drooped his head on Buck’s shoulder. Buck soothed again, stroking along the back of Eddie’s neck. A question gnawed at him. 

“Eddie? Why are you wet?”

“I had him…” Eddie repeated, tone muted and slurred. He sagged against Buck. 

Buck lowered his hand from shoulder to waist. The warmth of Eddie’s blood, dark crimson in the streetlights, coated him. 

“No.” Buck shook his head, his tone firm. He muscled Eddie against him until he could walk him to the wall of the club. He’s back in the middle of a street, watching his best friend collapse under a sniper’s shot. Buck gently poured him against the brick. Eddie’s heart was slow and sluggish against his body. His own heartbeat was enough for the both of them. If only that was how it worked. He pulled at the snaps to Eddie’s shirt, stripping away the fabric to see the damage. 

“I… knew you always wanted me,” Eddie rasped, a pained smile on his lips. His eyes danced over Buck, tracing him. 

Buck pawed at his tears, replacing them with smears of Eddie’s blood. He needed to tell him to save his strength, but the words couldn’t come. They locked themselves tight within his throat. But his hands moved, rending bits of his own shirt to press against the wounds.

Eddie pressed his hands over Buck’s. He groaned as he clamped Buck’s hand down against the wound, pushing the fabric of the thin shirt against it. 

Buck swallowed. He forced training to overtake panic. It was Eddie. He had to be flawless. He barely registered Tommy’s small ‘oh, god’. Part of him, the trained part, notes that Tommy followed up that brief moment of panic by dialing 911. 

“Give me your shirt!”

Tommy dropped to his knees beside Buck, already tearing his shirt over his head. He rattled off their address to the dispatcher as he tore the shirt in half. He joined Buck in applying pressure.

Eddie’s eyes didn’t close this time. Buck waited for them to close. He waited for him to slip away again. But he didn’t. His eyes stayed trained on Buck and Tommy. Even after the 133 showed up and pulled them away from him, those brown eyes stayed open and focused.

[tavyliasin]

Scent of Cinnamon 6 - The Command, The Deal, And The Touch of Serendipity

Continuing directly from the last installment in this series, Raphael has agreed that it might be easier to get used to feeling Haarlep's effect on his body if he watches and instructs them on what to do. A simple task, or so he thought before he realises now that he has to actually decide what he wants. Meanwhile, the incubus is more than happy to tease their new master with the illusion of control.

3,928 Words

AO3 Link Click Here or Tumblr Masterlist for SoC Here

Summary: Raphael instructs Haarlep on exactly how to touch his...their body, while he watches Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 3.5/5  Content Warnings: Mild Power Play, Mild Angst, Masturbation, mild alcohol mention, implied sounding (but no actual sounding), Aphrodisiacs (with consent)

Spoilers Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance There's really not a lot of canon to comply with here. The description of the house travelling through the hells is canon, as is Raphael's ambition to rule the hells. Other Notes: We are continuing precisely from the end of the previous chapter, right in to the middle of the scene~ I also want to give my heartfelt thanks to my beta reader https://archiveofourown.org/users/Make_me_thy_lyre for helping polish it up, catch a few errors, and for giving me the confidence in it when it waned. Also to the HOHS as usual for snippet help and feedback and writing sprints together!

Paired Song Phantom by NateWantsToBattle "I'm just a phantom in your room With no intent on leaving soon And you're still not even sure just how I got here Another ghost that's in your bed That you wish you could leave for dead Ain't no magic word can make me disappear

Now that room, it starts to dim Set the mood for onset sin And now we're passed out on the floor of your apartment With every single warning sign It passed you up and slipped you by But we're all bound to end up back to where we started

Make no mistake I'll break you down (Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh-oh) Shout it around town

I'm not what you want But I'm exactly what you need Take a bite and feed Your satisfaction guaranteed"

--- --- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT! --- ---

The Command, The Deal, And The Touch of Serendipity

The agreement was clear. A simpler deal, one with less urgency behind it - or so they thought. Haarlep withdrew their touch with a prolonged caress around Raphael’s whole body, letting him feel the direct contact once more. “Would this be easier with some of my-” 

The impulsive nature of the cambion rose its head once more as he turned to them while they spoke, taking hold of their horns and stealing their lips in a motion almost as smooth as one of their own kind might have done.

They yielded to his whims, taken aback for a moment by the boldness in his actions, yet quickly once more reaffirming their control with one hand cradling the back of his head with a firm grasp of his soft hair between strong crimson fingers. Their other hand rested only upon his shoulder, allowing him control of his body as they delivered the poison of their aphrodisiac kiss once more. 

In truth, Haarlep hadn’t expected him to agree so swiftly - and certainly couldn’t have predicted the enthusiasm with which his tongue drank them in - but they were not about to complain. They didn’t require sustenance quite so frequently as to need it every day, however there was a comfort in not having to fight for scraps of lust on the brink of starvation, or to submit themselves to someone who was beneath them.

Raphael was not on their level. Far from it. Yet…

—

The sweet fire of cinnamon was just as intoxicating to Raphael in this second kiss as it was in their first. Even a lover’s lips could not hope to match the heat-

He fought for a firmer grasp of his senses again. As soon as he began to pull back, the grip on his hair was gently released, allowing him to turn away again. It was not easy to steady himself, fingers curling and clinging harshly to the sheets as the warmth began to spread. 

The only word he could seem to find for it was one that spoke of liquor, potent alcohol warming his body through from his throat to his chest, a shot spiked with infernal lava that challenged even his constitution:

Intoxicating. The second dose was no less powerful than the first had been. The cambion doubted he would ever build any form of immunity to the sweet poison that pooled with heat in his gut… He gave it a moment longer before he found the strength in his legs to stand. 

A part of him was surprised - disappointed? No… Perplexed. The incubus was true to their word, leaving him in control of his own body as well as their own. 

He cast a quick glance around the room and summoned one of the long couches closer with a light tug on the Weave. A brief telekinesis took little effort to one of his standing, and soon he was no longer standing but sitting, facing his own bed and the reflection of himself within it. 

They still looked like a mirage to him. Every time he blinked he expected the next opening of his eyes to reveal tan skin in place of crimson, a tail with a pointed tip, and the tall and slender form that was seared into his memory in vivid detail. Yet there they sat, watching and waiting expectantly, wearing his likeness in the manner one might wear a mask to a ball. 

—

Haarlep felt no need to push for control. The stick had been given, and now the carrot was dangling - though perhaps dangling was not the most apt analogy for the rigid ‘vegetable’ awaiting Raphael’s instruction. 

“Could you at least look a little more relaxed?” He hesitated to give a clearer order, expression near unreadable though his body showed the tell-tale signs of aroused anticipation. 

“Could you?” Haarlep laughed, though not harshly. Instead they tried to put him more at ease with the idea, at least until the lust could cloud his senses and drive more of that courage that had risen just a short minute ago. They lay back, angling themselves towards him slightly so they could see each other more clearly. “Where should I touch?” 

“It was…acceptable, when you…” Faltering again, Raphael’s hand moved to tug nervously at a collar he wasn’t wearing. 

“When I began before, it was here.” They ran a light claw across their chest, sharp eyes spotting the goosebumps that rose on the mirror form of the cambion’s body. He felt that. “Touch can be like a knife - the same blade that cuts the flesh could instead be used to spread icing upon a cake.” 

“I didn’t take you for a chef.” Raphael’s eyebrow raised. 

“You didn’t take me at all~” Haarlep teased. The eyebrow dropped to a frown. “So serious, Archduke - this isn’t business now. It’s pleasure.” 

They watched another drop of sweat form on his brow as their hands sought more of the sensitive parts of their upper body, judging both their own experience and his reaction. “I’m not certain I will ever get used to this,” he murmured, his own hand hovering over the same position their caress had paused.

“Is it something you want to get used to? We have plenty of time on our hands, after all~” They pinched softly, smirking at how he sucked in a quick breath through barely parted lips. 

“It is not a matter of want but of need-” 

“So you need me now? I’m touched~” “What I need, Harlot, is to grow at least mildly accustomed to this…link.” He ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping it back between his horns. “It is becoming clear that if you are to entertain my clients that I will need to learn to endure it.” 

“Only endure?” Haarlep pressed the point a little with another pinch, harder this time, the tug at their chest drawing a little pain. As expected, his face betrayed the hint of pleasure that travelled the distance between them to his own nerves. “Why simply endure when you could learn to enjoy what I have to offer?” 

—

They were pushing him again, Raphael knew that, could see the bait even as it dangled on the hook before him…and yet he swallowed it, line and all, the metaphor twisting in his gut along with the myriad of butterflies that marked his anticipation. 

It felt good, he couldn’t deny that. He also couldn’t deny wanting more. “Again.” 

Haarlep complied, though they drew out the sensation, pulling with a twist, and once more he felt not even a whisper of pain. The pleasure, however-

“So this is what you like. I wouldn’t have guessed from how you were last night.” Raphael regretted the words almost as soon as they left his mouth, Haarlep’s laugh echoing from the walls far louder than before. 

“The response you are feeling is your body’s own~” Haarlep pressed one claw to a ridge that ran from their chest to their stomach, following the curve with increasing pressure until blood was drawn. “Our deal transfers that pleasure, not the pain.” 

The truth of their words sank in as he could see the slight wound would no doubt sting, even as it began to knit closed with the fiend’s self-healing abilities. Slower than he might, but still true to the fiend’s power. “That seems very convenient, particularly for me.” The thought swirled a little longer, even as they continued their ministrations on his doubled form, the ghost of each touch almost alive on his own skin.

—

“Very astute~ I suppose I should expect no less from one such as yourself. The possibilities for a true sadist are numerous.” Haarlep pushed back the darker edges of old torments. Safety was assured as long as they held the balance of power in their palm, but that grip mustn’t tighten too quickly. “What next? Now that you have a clearer taste of what you might experience.” 

“Lower.” His eyes travelled down their body as if trying to evaluate what would be best. He seemed to come up short, however. “Go slowly, no penetration, but show me what the form you wear might feel.” 

The incubus smiled, their tail beginning to tease at their lower leg, tracing the tip along the ridges that marked the demonic nature of the fiend. It was perhaps ironic that their previous form looked more human, even though by blood they had more of the undiluted infernal within them than the Cambion who held their ownership upon the page. Yet in his true fiendish form, Raphael was far more the devil of mortal tales than any incubus. “Here?” They caressed their hip, finding a point where the curve of the body dipped inwards as a shallow dip. 

“There,” he replied, finally beginning to relax back in his seat. 

They didn’t even need to see his body to know how he was feeling. It was pleasing to see him gradually succumbing more and more not only to the effects of their kiss, but to the touch they were indulging in as well. One hand remained on their chest, the other on their hip, as their tail continued to trail up the inside of their leg, finding each nerve to pull on like a puppet-master toying with strings. 

The cambion began to dance on their stage.

—

Raphael could not still his legs, nor his tail, nor his racing pulse. Inch by agonising inch he was losing control of himself to the heat that built in every echoed touch, a bare breath away from replicating the motions of the incubus upon his own body. That, however, was a pointless endeavour - everything was vividly clear, the pressure, the slight tickle as the tip of their tail slipped out of view to tease him more. If he closed his eyes, he would assume they were right there with their hands roaming over him directly.

Haarlep held his gaze, in a way that made him feel as if looking away were forbidden. Or maybe it was another challenge… It was hard to tell. They were like a shimmering mirage, an oasis in the desert of his need that was leaving his throat dry and parched, a vision that could vanish in an instant.

The ache of need drew out the next command without a second thought. “More, direct, take hold of-” 

“This?~” Haarlep’s fingers wrapped around his- their base, taking a firm grasp and drawing out the friction that was barely soothed by the remains of the oil they had been using earlier still glistening on their skin. 

“That.” Raphael moaned, his own fingers gripping into the arm of the seat he was reclined upon, watching as the incubus stroked so carefully along every ridge. 

“It can be easy, Archduke, to tell me exactly what you want most. Direct me, and make good use of it whilst you still can.” He could hear the edge of warning that Haarlep filtered into their words - should he refuse to give them control in the Boudoir, should he demand to be in control every time he stepped beyond the threshold, their contract would break. “Though I promise you this - when you do give me complete power you will not regret it.”  

“Right there, that ridge-” His voice almost cracked as they stopped and pressed their thumb where he wanted it. “That’s…good…” 

Haarlep obeyed, caressing the spot with care, tracing a path around the raised edge with the tip of their claw to sharpen the pleasure. “Anything else?” 

“More oil,” he faltered again, uncertain if he was truly prepared for what he was about to request or even to voice it, but the ache of need overtook his hesitation once more. “Not…not for your hand. Your tail.” 

—

The incubus felt a wave of their own pleasure increasing, their appetite whetted by the keening edge in his voice, the delicious hesitance that told them it didn’t truly matter that he was commanding their actions. The devil, as always, was in the details - they were the one who told him to give the orders in the first place. He certainly wasn’t acting like a man in control, not even over his own senses. 

Fresh oil slicked over their tail easily as they continued to stroke the hardened ridge he found most pleasurable. That wasn’t something they had expected - that halfway along his length would be the most sensitive point - but it was a weakness they memorised quickly. “And now?” They pressed him for his answer. This was how they held the leash even as the pretence of the collar was around their own neck. 

“You know what I want.” He pouted, refusing to elaborate. So petulant, they thought, as they glared him down. “If you don’t tell me clearly, I will assume this is all you wanted.” Haarlep kept their gaze locked on his eyes as they rubbed the oil down their tail tip with a lewd caress, mirroring the motion with their other hand. Raphael shuddered and bit his lip.

Haarlep grinned.

“In…” It was barely above a whisper, the request clear in the needy way his hips were writhing, his own tail tip twitching. 

“Hmmm I must be losing my hearing, Archduke~” Haarlep licked their lips, tasting the arousal on the air, savouring the desperation as they brought their tail forwards in front of them. “In my mouth? The oil would be terribly bitter, I doubt you’ll feel much pleasure from that.” 

“Hells…” Raphael’s grip on the upholstery was beginning to tear the fabric at its seams. “You know exactly what I mean, Harlot.” A moment of bravado, throttled by their next choice to bring the tip of their tail to another tip, its mirror twitching and dripping slightly. “So, in? In here?” Raphael growled a low warning of disapproval. “Well, it seems the proud and powerful Archduke who would rule over all the hells cannot even say something as simple as-”  “Haarlep, still your insults and put that tail up your hole, or I shall have you thrown out!”

There it was. 

The yell, the hollow threat, the cry of need finally giving voice to desire. They had him exactly where they wanted him.

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” The incubus slid their tail behind and beneath them, teasing at their entrance for just a moment before pushing inside with a swift motion that brought a quickly silenced gasp from their own lips. “Well, something is certainly hard~” 

—

The pressure and fullness of the phantom intrusion almost choked the breath entirely from Raphael’s lungs. He could feel every tiny texture on the tip of his tail as they moved slowly, matching the caress of their hand in front of them. He cast a brief glance at the tail attached to his own body, the echoed pressure on the tip harsh and tight, but not unpleasant. An even briefer thought wondered if that slight ridge had always been there…

All thoughts began to swim away like a shoal of fish who had just seen the shark enter their waters - a fitting analogy for the hint of wicked teeth behind Haarlep’s lewd grin. Not that Raphael had even a chance to notice that detail, as his eyes finally fluttered shut, losing the battle with his will to face them as they tormented his body with countless pleasures. 

The grip around him was firm but yielding, the pressure varying with strokes that sought to bring the strongest sensations of overwrought nerves, leaving him shivering with the intensity. Any hint of embarrassment he may have felt about shouting his desire before - loud enough for half the house to hear - was completely devoured by the reward of their tail, slowly but surely finding the centre of pleasure inside him.

Even with his eyes closed he could see their face, his mind blurring their former appearance with the current, unable to make sense of much more than the storm of lust rushing through every part of his body that they touched through the bond. 

If upholstery could scream, the entire house would’ve echoed with the howls of fabric caught in cambion claws. Instead, the peace of the halls was disturbed by a long moan growing to a crescendo as Raphael finally gave himself over to pleasure’s final chorus. It was as if their bodies, in the link, had perfectly harmonised in a lustful cadence. —

Haarlep understood, now, how the cambion had struggled to hold back the day before. The intensity of the pleasure his body could bring forth was unlike most they had been with in the past, the rush almost making them lightheaded as they cascaded into bliss. Their tail thrummed at their nerves with a vibrating pulse as their hand sought to wring every drop of pleasure from both their own body and its mirrored double that had been reduced to a quivering mess. 

The incubus could not resist the urge to continue into overstimulation, biting their own lip as they watched the cambion tremble and moan. His body was drenched in sweat and his own release, hair falling in messy strands between proud horns that were a poor match for his almost pitiable expression as Haarlep finally ended their game. 

—

When Raphael opened his eyes, he noticed that the incubus had already cleaned themselves up, the soft cloths dropped neatly into the basket for whichever debtor had that duty. Not that it mattered much, though it made him feel even more dishevelled by comparison as cold reality seeped into his damp skin. 

Haarlep casually tossed him a clean cloth when they noticed he was beginning to recover. He couldn’t tell if it was boredom, or a care for the last shred of his tattered dignity, that had them turn away while he wiped down. They stood by the balcony door, wings draping behind them like a cloak, tail twitching behind them as they gazed out into the distance.

Once he was clean, curiosity tugged at Raphael’s legs and moved him to stand - still naked, and not entirely recovered - beside the incubus. “What are you looking for out there?” 

“I’m not certain.” They sounded quietly thoughtful, a stark contrast to the lustful and rowdy beast that had provoked him into playing their filthy games. “What is it that you see?” 

“Lava fields, rock, burning skies…” He reconsidered. This wasn’t what they were asking. “Potential. The Future.” 

“The future…” Haarlep echoed his words in his own voice, though somehow the syllables seemed to hold an entirely different meaning from their lips. “Power, then? A palace grander than any of the hells, and a throne befitting the one upon it, I presume?” They turned to face him now, the flicker green still lingering in their eyes. Or at least, it was when he looked at them.

“Maybe.” The cambion mused, his tail swishing languidly behind him as he thought it over. “Or perhaps this will remain the centre of my power. There is much to be done, of course, but I do not intend to leave it as an empty hovel floating through the hells. No, we shall make this the envy of all who are graced with the good fortune to step inside.” 

A hint of a wry smile began to play at the incubus’s lips once more, their tail coiling gently around his ankle. “We?”  

—

The unspoken thought that played in their mind, however, was that if they remained in this house then there was one room, the one where they would have power over the ruler of the hells… Their wings shivered with the thought. That would be a fine meal indeed.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Harlot.” The nickname, yet spoken without venom… Raphael didn’t even remove their tail from his leg. “Two contracts bind you here, and unless they are broken that means you will be here. And I see little point in spending my time and efforts building up a fortress to abandon it to sit on someone else’s empty throne.”

“Then you’ll make this the very seat of your power.” Haarlep turned towards the room, tail trailing up to his lower back with a gentle nudge to follow them. “Then I will help you build it.” 

“You hardly seem the type to work with masonry, nor to bury your head within the depths of infernal law and contracts beside your own.” He kept pace alongside them as they began to walk towards the healing pool. 

Haarlep noted, with some degree of surprise, how easily the cambion was keeping so close to them, their arms almost touching, his body heat palpable before they reached the water’s edge. “How little you think of me, or what it takes to build up all you need, that you would sell my skills so short and so swiftly.” They stepped into the pool, soothing water welcoming them as they waded in and sat, gesturing for Raphael to join them.

“What is it then? You’re offering more than your body?...My body…” He shook his head as if struggling to clear a particularly stubborn image from his mind. “What, pray tell, might that be?” 

“Connections, Raphael. I am quite adept at forming them, and not only that  - I can secure them for you.” They reached for the soaps as he sat beside them, again close enough they were touching. He could have sat further apart in the absurdly large baths, he could have even stayed out of the water, but there he was. He didn’t pull away when they moved to wash his hair, either. Interesting. “There is a lot more I could do with a body than sex. Although, that alone could be enough to cause quite the scandal, should you so wish.” 

“Blackmail and manipulation.” Raphael considered the terms, relaxing more under the gentle caress of crimson fingertips on his scalp. 

“More than that, should it be needed. A mortal would be less likely to keep their composure if I am making use of the link~ All I need is to have them agree to the deal in a way that grants me use of their form whenever I wish.” A low chuckle rumbled through them as they recalled a few past encounters. “People will easily underestimate the object of their desire offering them a night beyond their wildest dreams. The fine print, Raphael, is often left unread.” 

“And now I am almost led to sympathy for your conquests.” His laughter matched their own, body leaning back against their shoulder. “Though they do get what they ask for in the end.”

“A lesson that took you long enough to learn.” They moved from his hair to his shoulders, lathering the scented soap on his skin. “For all your fight, was it truly so distasteful?” 

“...no.” His answer was as quiet as the movement beneath the water as the tip of his tail curled around theirs. “Then you do not object to our continued partnership?” Haarlep’s question now came as a whisper at the back of his head as they wrapped their arms around him. They could have cleaned his body in a far less intimate way, but seeing the often irate devil soften in the aftermath of bliss? It might not last long. But it could, at least, be savoured. “I have no intention of ending our deal.” He murmured, relaxing back further against their chest. “There may be…benefits I had not expected.” 

“Indeed.” Their reply was almost a chaste kiss, a single word holding a heavier weight than the simple syllables of its form.

— --- --- ENDING NOTES --- ---

The cliffhanger resolved, and Raphael finally got what he wanted...when he learned to ask for it. Perhaps in some ways, both got a little more than they expected this time, and they still haven't slept together since the deal was made!

Plenty more of Haarlep's deeper backstory to find, too, I'm just leaving you a little trail of angsty breadcrumbs as they try to find their place in the hells and learn what that might mean for their future and the reconciliation of their past.

As always, I am grateful to those who leave any feedback or interactions here, Discord, Twitter, or AO3 - I'm glad you're joining me on this journey through the past with our favourite fiends~