#then he does in 2123

[oifaaa]

jason Todd should wake up in the 31st century so that he doesn't matter in the narrative anymore

So basically you want Jason to do a

[snowballseal]

Pretty Bird

Sylus X Reader

Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.

Word Count: 2123

Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.

---

The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.

The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.

“Hey there pretty bird.”

Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.

Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”

Speak of the devil.

“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks.

You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-

“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.

“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”

You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.

“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”

You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”

“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”

Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your  state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.

“Sylus-!”

He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”

You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.

---

The second time is when you visit on one of your off days. 

When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.

Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.

A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.

“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”

He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-

Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.

“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”

You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.

He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.

“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”

“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”

“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”

“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”

You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”

Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”

God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.

You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.

Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.

“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.

God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?

---

The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.

Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.

“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d***  bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”

“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”

“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.

“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.” 

Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.

“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.

“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”

Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.

“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.

The air goes silent.

Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization. 

You were playing with him.

“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?

“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.

Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”

“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.

“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”

“Quiet.”

Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.

Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)

[magebastard]

murmuring brook, curving about you

wc: 2123

rating: g

ship: lucanis dellamorte x loua ‘rook’ mercar

notes: pre relationship! early game! picks up immediately where the cutscene leaves off after the ‘get coffee with illario’ quest! the rating is g though this IS the ‘lucanis is not experienced’ conversation. nothing rlly inappropriate happens they’re just a couple anxious emotionally constipated clowns. this is soooo self indulgent btw. i think abt them in early game and i cannot stop thinking ‘wow. they are friends’

“Ready to head back to the Lighthouse?” Perhaps it is selfish—they rest so little. Rook wants to stay. Wants them both to stay tucked in this cafe where the blight and the war haven’t yet spread their ruin.

She has not seen him so at ease, so loose, even toiling away as he’s wont to in their dim kitchenette. Lucanis swills his coffee, a soft smile still on his lips.

“Almost.” Quietly, like a secret between them.

Loua tries not to look overly pleased.

It’s been close to a week at this point, since he’s joined them. She didn’t know him before his imprisonment, she couldn’t attest to whether or not it changed him. She cannot miss the man he was before and she’s grateful for it. She is so tired of missing. All they have is the capable assassin he seems to be now. One who, apparently, makes a fine pasta dinner and expertly crafts a shopping list. ‘Abomination’ isn’t even the first word Loua would use to describe him. It’s rather far down on the list.

“Well then,” she began. “I would love to ask you about knitting. I can sew alright, but I can barely accomplish a garter stitch.”

He quirks a brow. “I had a feeling I might be mocked for this.”

“What? What is there to mock? I asked for your help.”

“It is a domestic hobby—“

“I like that you knit.”

“And knit-wear isn’t very practical for the warmer climate—“

“Lucanis!” Loua is beaming at him when he finally pauses. He drums his fingers on the table. A few patrons are watching them, now. Coy smiles on their faces that he pointedly ignores.

“Again; I like that you knit. It is practical. And you said it yourself—it’s just another sort of dexterity training.”

“Forgive me. I’m used to employing logic to silence Illario and his jests.” He says it so breezily. The words are sharp but the intent is jocular, so familiar, even as Illario has fled them and cannot interject. Just like brothers, Loua supposes.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I imagine it’s also nice to have a focus beyond the work. And I like that you’re discerning about coffee. It implies particularity.”

It isn’t only that she’s convivial—it’s that she’s so genuine about it. There is an assertive sincerity to her prodding. She and Bellara are alike in that way. The gentle methods with which they pry are new to him. Lucanis is used to the perfunctory. The cold, calloused inquiry. From marks, from crows, from captors. He’s used to maneuvering through conversations—not having them.

But she’s made an assessment about him. Something simple enough. Benign, maybe. Or does she mean to tell him that he’s being observed? Noticed? Is she marking his weakness?

Though…

Smells like pipe-smoke. Coffee. Burnt clothes and lightning. No blood under her nails, or dry at the corners of her lips. She won’t hurt you.

Yes, he is starting to suspect as much.

“Before all of this, I lived a very comfortable life. I was in a stronger position to be particular.”

It delights him that she snorts—unrefined and comfortable. Maybe he should feel admonished or teased but it’s nice. It’s as if they’re friends.

“You don’t need to be ‘comfortable’—cough, filthy rich—to have impeccable taste in coffee. I’ll have you know; there’s a stand in Midtown, just a hair outside of Dock Town, with a dark roast that makes my heart sing. Andoral’s Breath has stiff competition out there.” Loua punctuates her lecture with a hearty sip. It is good coffee. Made better by the full moon, and the company.

“Truly? You’re sipping—guzzling, more like—Andoral’s Breath right now and you think there is a single roast that compares?”

“Guzzling!” She grins and he hesitates. This is nice. It’s as if he’s getting enough air to fill his lungs, finally, for the first time since his capture. And he’s smiling back honestly. When had that happened?

“Well, you’re not luxuriating in it as someone who is particular might.” Lucanis is joking. Spite thuds like a wind-torn rudder in his skull but his remarks are astonishingly temperate.

“Alright. We’ll get another cup each and I’ll take my time, then.” She reasons. It’s a calm, factorial resolve. Is it Spite that preens or something softer in his chest? We’ll just spend more time together, she might have said. Is he getting this right—is she enjoying this, too?

“Fine. And later, when we have a moment, I’ll have to see this coffee stand. A stand! Vaya, not a cafe or a proper shop? What of the atmosphere—can you even stop to enjoy a drink that way?”

Lucanis leans forward in his seat. He hopes to mirror her, goading and inviting. This, at least, is familiar to him. The dance of it.

“It’s a stand in a park, thank you very much. There’s a fountain and real grass and a pond. The mage lights are white after sunset. And little. Like stars.” Loua holds her conviction tightly. She doesn’t relish getting gooey and sentimental when they’ve reached such a jovial place. But something melts within her as she describes this quiet, personal thing.

To his credit, Lucanis seems to take the odd moment in stride. His smile does something saccharine and Loua will refuse to think about this for the days and weeks to come.

She shakes it off, tamps the homesick reverence out of her voice.

“And the dark roast is called King’s Cup.” Her hands are meticulous, even gesturing errantly. Mages. He would roll his eyes if he weren’t so captivated.

“Bitter and spiced—like a welcome home,” Loua pinches her fingers together, as if capturing the meaning with her hands could convey its verity. She wants to meet his passion for fine coffee, wants them to bond as she has with their gathered outfit so far.

“Ah, see, you are mocking me.” And he’s still smiling and it’s like they’re both in on this joke.

“No! I’m serious!” She laughs and laughs. “If I had to describe such a feeling, it would be like coming home. The kissing—first, goodbye or otherwise, I’m not entirely sure.” A new busker has set up near the counter, plucking away some slow melody. She wants to sway to it, feeling light enough to dance.

“Though some might say no kiss is sweeter than that of a welcome home, no?” Lucanis is messing with her and quietly Loua wishes they could have met in a time of peace. She could do this all the time with him, she decides. Sitting, laughing, ribbing. Flirting, surely, in some weird way.

“Some might—but not you? You assassin types love the heady, tragic stuff.” Ease up, you oaf. Don’t push, don’t nudge, don’t ruin this.

Though again, the sea air and gentle chords pull something loose between them. Lucanis does not respond with annoyance or discomfort. He’s still smiling at her.

“We assassin types aren’t often given a choice in that. It’s why I prefer the romance in novels. Much more range.” He’s still joking with her. Loua should take this and his tone and his quips and grasp them tightly. Move on. And yet…

When had she ever left well enough alone?

“More range than your own romances?” Perhaps if she keeps smiling, he won’t recoil at her clumsy attempt to know him. Perhaps he won’t care that the hapless leader of this crew throws her good sense away in a conversation when she carries even a mote of curiosity. Perhaps, hopefully, he will simply say ‘that’s not your business’ and they can move on—never to speak of this again.

Ah, but they were doing so well.

For a moment, to Loua’s horror, his face does betray discomfort.

Then, to her surprise, something relents and he unspools further still.

“I, personally, have none to speak of. No time, you see.” His head bobs from side to side as he contemplates explaining further. “No time, and not much vested interest, in truth. Mine is a solitary work. I don’t seek out things that are fleeting, and from there, my options are—well. It has not been a priority for me.” It shocks him that he isn’t entirely embarrassed to tell her this. Once, Lucanis believed it would shame him to be so comfortably isolated. At some point, perhaps even before the Ossuary, he must have come to accept the inexorable nature of his desires.

It helps, he supposes, that Loua only nods along. “I understand that. Between you and I; I would have benefited a lot from your foresight,” she offers in turn.

“Oh?”

“Well,” she pauses to take a sip. Stalling. “I certainly never thought to pursue anything fleeting. That doesn’t stop them from fleeting anyways.”

“Ah. My apologies—“

“No—I mean. Kaffas, that sounded bitter. Things just happen. It’s life, yeah?” Creators, maybe we should have gone back to the Lighthouse.

Lucanis nods. “Sure. Still, the heart and mind are often at odds, even as time passes. I’m sorry all the same.” And she supposes he knows a thing or two about hearts and minds. The grief and loss.

“Thank you. The novels are more fun, anyway.”

“You think?”

“Of course. Impossible trysts, impossible battles, love conquering all? What’s more fun than that?”

The lights are beginning to dim around the cafe, giving way to the strange ambience of midnight. Her fumbling notwithstanding, there is a molasses ease to leaning back and tilting her head at him. They’re just people, doing what people have always done; holding out something heart-soft and vulnerable for someone else to take.

Lucanis swallows around the sudden hard ache in his throat. Spite has conjured the sound of a cat, scratching a hard wooden door in his mind.

“Is that what you want, then? Swords and combat? Love to be the answer to stopping the mighty elvhen gods?”

She snorts again. “It could be,” she says. “But no. Not the swords and combat part. At least, not forever. I’m a Shadow Dragon—the swords are probably inevitable for a while yet. But someday—I don’t know. Maybe a house by some water. Coffee every day. A family. The happily ever after stuff.”

He tips his cup in a slight ‘cheers’. “That’s wise. I don’t imagine the tragic, heady stuff has much of a shelf life.”

Loua tips her cup back at him. “And you?”

“What about me? I can hardly make an informed decision about this.”

She points a finger. “I’m only guessing here, myself. If not romance, then what’s happily ever after? You said you haven’t had much of an opportunity to choose for yourself, so imagine it. The world is wide open for you. We finish the evanuris, then what?”

“You’re especially optimistic this evening.”

“I’m always optimistic. It’s my best and worst quality. Go on.”

Lucanis takes a moment, chewing it over. There is a kind of comfort that comes with never having to decide these things. His life has been a ruthless straight line. Pushing onward, never stalling to question or process. Mourning only in the dark. There has never been another way.

His eyes stay fixed on hers, dark and bright like sunlit woods. Loua lounges in her seat. She’s smiling at him, encouraging as ever. Free of the loneliness that dogs him. Perhaps there has always been another way.

“A family would be nice, I think. Death is my purview and it’s a demanding employer, but if I could—if there were something else.” He swallows, tries not to stutter. “If I could even begin to consider something else, yes. A house, a family. Perhaps we’d all knit. Something peaceful.”

The song the busker plays has gone impossibly sweet. Loua knows without knowing that the fool is staring directly at their table and she tries not to pay any mind beyond that. She tries not to give them too much ammunition in the way that she cannot control her face around this man.

Is he blushing? Loua wonders. Am I blushing? Of course I am, look at him.

The crowd around the bar must have died down. The barista on shift strolls up, practically giddy to deliver them a refill and collect their empty mugs. Loua wrenches her gaze away to nod and thank them. Pointedly ignoring the glee and mischief.

This place…

Lucanis seems to gather himself after a long beat.

“Though, as I’ve said, who’s to know what I really want? My own body is housing a demon and the world as we know it may end. ‘Something peaceful’ becomes a loftier goal by the hour.”

Her brows furrow at his dismissal. Loua could argue, but goodness, when was the last time she fought for anything that had nothing to do with her cause. Had she ever truly planned on settling down one day? Had she ever planned on leaving Tevinter when it still had use for her?

There’s comfort in having a purpose, she supposes. Though very suddenly it all seems so heavy to bear. Is it so ridiculous to think they all might rest once the evanuris are defeated? Is it so greedy to want to pursue the purpose of finding peace?

Is it so bizarre that she wants that for him?

For all of them, of course.

What am I doing?

Loua taps the lip of his mug with her own.

“To something peaceful,” she says. Lucanis huffs a quiet laugh.

“Something peaceful for us both.”

[formosusiniquis]

never anything but sharing

For @genderthings Robin Gender Week Day 1: Sharing Pronouns

T | WC: 2123 | Genderqueer Robin (and also Steve) | Gender Identity; Fluff and Humor; Period Typical Discussion of Gender | AO3

The door of the Harrington house is unlocked when Robin storms through it. The only danger it would have any hope of delaying is seven unruly and unthankful children; today especially Robin appreciates that Steve has stopped making that effort. It makes it a lot easier to storm in and pull him off the couch by the hair and drag him into the nearest bathroom.

“Ow, Robin! The part is in the mail, the truck will be running by Sunday. Ow!” He doesn’t stop complaining until she has them in her favorite full-sized bathroom with the ugly tile and jacuzzi tub.

 He’s Steve, Robin’s Steve, so he doesn’t glare so much as pout as he runs a hand through his mussed-up hair, pretending that he’s tender-headed even though he knows Robin knows better. “You’re worse than Henderson, you had to bike to work one day.”

“First of all, don’t ever say that to me. But do you think I dragged you in here to talk about our truck, this is serious.”

He crosses his arms in that way that tries for bitchy but these days lands closer to fondly disgruntled. Parental, maternal, in that way that suits Steve. “Okay well seriously start talking then. I think you ripped out a clump.”

Robin takes in a breath, using the exhale to force out the thing that had worried itself in there like a burr at 11:57 that Saturday afternoon. “Someone called me sir at work.”

Robin can feel the slow track of Steve’s eyes as they take in the outfit. The wide-shouldered blazer and the pants in a different but complementary plaid pattern. Underneath is a t-shirt and, with the biking, Chuck Taylors had been a must though the thrifted, wingtip, dress shoes had called out from the closet begging to be worn instead.

“How do we feel about that?”

Always we. Steve hadn’t even been there and it’s a them problem, it’s easier to think in terms of them and we.

“She wasn’t looking at me from the front,” Robin says. That feels important to stress for some reason. Do they look like a sir from the front? Probably not, and Robin isn’t sure what the emotion that’s sitting below the breastbone at the thought of that is. 

“I was reshelving in Romance and she came up behind me and was all…” Trailing off all Robin can do is gesture, flapping hands leading away from a body that has become a source of confusion.

Arms still crossed, lazily now, relaxed. Cool and lean in the way Steve can be but only when the effort is accidental. He nods. “Oh, that makes more sense.”

“What does that mean?”

Steve’s hands on their shoulders, Robin is turned toward the mirror with Steve just behind in a blink. “From the back you have the same haircut as Byers.”

“You take that back right now.” Robin watches as their mouth moves in the mirror.

“It’s better, cause you steal my product. But when you don’t let me style it, it can get a little Byers-y.”

They’re in the ugly bathroom with the seafoam green tiles that have the print that makes no sense for a bathroom but Robin loves. That’s the only reason the counter beneath their fingers is bare. That it doesn’t have the accusing army of mousse and hairspray that has been slowly infiltrating the Buckley house.

“So you’re saying since I have a Byers-y haircut-”

“Not the whole haircut, just from the back and just sometimes.”

“That’s the only reason I’d be called sir.”

Steve slouches against the wall by the mirror. There’s a careful nothingness to the way he’s looking at them that means he saw something Robin didn’t mean to show. That he heard something in the forced sarcstic lilt in her voice.

“Do you want to be called sir?” The forced casualness extends to the question.

It makes Robin feel hysterical. Get prescribed a visit to the seaside, the real remedy is a good vibrator hysterical. “I’m a lesbian, Steve. That’s- I’ve always been a lesbian, it’s the one thing- So I can’t be a sir or a he-”

“Why not?”

The guidance-counselor-calm is infuriating, even as they make that mental note to add that to the list of things Steve could be good at if he wanted a traditional job. Robin could teach music, band, they wouldn't be broken up.

“Because..? Because it’s too much, isn’t it?”

He cocks his head to the side, circling Robin and their problem carefully.

“It’s not all the time, right? We’ll share.”

“What?”

“We’ll share.” Steve repeats, moving now to settle into the massive jacuzzi tub. Lounging for real in its dry basin now that, in their mind, the problem has been solved

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Robin has to be careful in refusing. The two of them don't disagree. Trying to do it now tastes like ash on the tongue. Bitter and wrong.

“Why not?” Steve challenges. Brow raised in a way that hints at something bitchy like the girls at the last slumber party she’d been invited to, before she was too weird, right before someone got the dare that they’d asked for.

“That’s my shirt you’re wearing and you stole my favorite jeans last week. You’ll borrow my he and I’ll take your she and it’ll be fine.”

“Those aren’t the same thing, that’s not those words mean something.” Robin pleads. Begs Steve to be rational because Robin can’t be. Biked the five miles here faster than anyone ever has. Broke landspeed records and possibly the sound barrier powered by the feelings caused by a single word.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve says gently. But it’s Steve and gentle gives way to a catty eye roll and, “I saw that kangaroo song as a kid too, he will mean Robin sometimes and she can mean Steve and other times it’s the otherway around. It’s fine, Robbie.”

It’s Steve, Robin has to remember. Always remembers because Steve is something they are as aware of as their arm or leg or spleen. Intrinsic.

Steve would burn Hawkins to the ground for them: Robin, The Party, anyone close enough to be family.

What then would it be to him? To claim Robin’s errant she. He is Steve Harrrington. Hawkin’s perfect son. The Keg King, the reformed prep. Perfect in his John Hughes-ian glory. Everything a perfect corn-fed, Midwestern boy should be.

“But it has to mean something, you can’t just say that we’ll share because you want me to feel better.”

“When have I ever lied to make you feel better? I just told you when you don’t do anything with your hair it looks like Jonathan’s.”

“Yeah, and you’re the kind of freak who understands what Nancy sees in him.”

“And it isn’t his hair. Our whole friendship is based on saying what we really think, even when it’s annoying.”

“I thought it was based on you inability to resist doing your Miss Piggy impression.”

“Robin.” The stone seriousness of it drops Robin to their knees in front of the tub. Close enough to Steve that big hands can cup their face. “I love you. This is your moment, so you'll just have to believe me when I say it's fine.”

“It's fine.” Robin repeats.

“We’ll share.” Steve says.

“We’ll share.”

“You're a sir.” she says.

“I’m a he.” Robin says, “Today. Today I'm a he.”

“How does that feel?” She asks him.

“Good? Good. Oh my god Steve I don’t know how to be a he. This isn’t stealing your red sweater-”

She shrieks, “I knew you had my sweater!”

But it isn't going to distract him from the bigger picture. “I can’t just slip into your guy thing like it’s your clothes, you know that was the point.”

Arms crossed, she pouts, “The point sounds like you’ve been stealing my clothes.”

“Steve!”

“You don’t have to be anything to prove that you are something. Sometimes you’re a he, you don’t have to know how to shotgun a beer or something to prove it. I will show you the right way to do a keg stand, that’s a point of pride. And you should know how to fix up the truck, change a tire, to help you pick up babes.”

It's not the worst point ever made. Probably because some of it -- the first part, not the part about car maintenance as a tool of seduction though that has its merits too he supposes and it has a butch quality that is appealing -- is familiar.

“I hate when you quote me at me.”

“When did you tell me you were going to teach me to change a tire?”

“You know what I mean, dingus.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Steve says through her smile, “how else am I supposed to give you advice?”

“I love you.” Its the truest truth Robin can come up with at the moment. So true it's an understatement. Love too simple a word for what he feels right now and about Steve.

“I love you too.” She says back, and Robin knows its the same kind of feeling. “And you’ll love me even more when I teach you how to scale a trellis.”

“Why would I need to scale anything, why can’t I just go in the door?”

“It doesn’t have the same Prince Charming feeling. Girls love that stuff.”

“How many times have you fallen off the side of someone’s house?”

“Not as many times as you’re going to, Vickie’s house is laid out like a nightmare.”

He settles into the tub next to Steve. The oversized jacuzzi a tight fit for both of their bodies, but Steve lets him settle into her side like she doesn’t care that the faucet is digging into her shoulder. In sync, Steve lifts her head up enough that Robin can rest his in the space where shoulder and neck meet. The sound of Steve’s heartbeat in his ear gives his a steady rhythm to settle into after the flustered panic it had worked its way up to. Share, they can share.

Some things they can share.

He sits up enough to look Steve in the eye, a half-hearted glare that she wouldn’t buy for a second on his face. “Why have you been scoping out Vickie's house?”

“For you, obviously.” She says, rolling her eyes just like Robin had imagined. “I had to figure out the best point of entry.”

“It's not a siege.”

“It's breaking and entering, and it's embarrassing when someone catches you and it doesn't look cool. Trust me.”

“Some more expertise that you're sharing?”

“I'll share anything with you, Bobbin.”

He hears what's underneath that promise. Their bond forged in chaos, in danger, in blood, in fear. But it was honed in moments like these: honest, sincere, still frightened sometimes but touched by love and laughter.

“Even your green henley?”

He hopes she hears how he knows that Steve would do or give anything for him. His shirt, his time, his bathroom, his life. 

Whatever life may mean at that time. The actual thing, defending and protecting them all from whatever the next great evil is, or the more metaphorical life, marriage and it's safety net that they’ve discussed.

“Even all my best clothes when you have nothing in your closet you could possibly share too.”

“Welcome to the time honored tradition of girlhood, the friend that’s borrowing clothes from you is doing it for a reason. I’ll teach you how dress sizes work next time we’re at the thrift store.”

“Yeah okay, but who’s going to teach you that?”

She’s smiling as she says it, and the tub is too small a space for them to get a good fight started. Grief, the teasing kind, something they’ve always been good at sharing. So he takes his lumps and settles back down into the cradle of the tub and Steve’s arms that he moves elbows first. Let’s them share how unappreciated that dig might have been, the truth in it neither here nor there. 

They’ll lay here for a little bit longer, letting the moment settle. Sharing their space, their time, their breath, and probably the gossip from his day at Family Video without Steve. When the time is right, they’ll leave the bathroom and share a meal, maybe the couch or the bed. It’s just what’s right, like Steve so often is. What’s a pronoun or two among all of that.

“I know how to find a dress that fits. Just like I know that the kangaroo song is about pronouns. How do you remember a cartoon from when we were kids but not the thing they were singing about?”

[vodika-vibes]

Your latest alpha-17 piece made me SWEAT 🥵 🥵 Gotta further fan the flames for alpha y’know ❤️‍🔥 can there be a continuation of your wallflower piece?

His Flower

Summary: You want to surprise Alpha, but you're a little insecure.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 2123

Warnings: Smut. Reader is a insecure about her looks.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was smacked with an idea for this one specifically, which is great! I hope you like it! It's especially good that I finished this now, because I'm not free for the rest of the day.

Divider by Saradika

Nervously, your fingers slide over the silky material sitting in the box. Even though you’re alone in your bathroom, the only place you feel secure enough to actually examine the lingerie set you bought as a surprise for Alpha, you can feel your face burn with embarrassment. 

You have to remind yourself that you want to do this several times, before you even work up the nerve to try the set on.

It’s white and blue, the same colors as Alpha’s armor, and as soon as it’s on, you make a face at yourself in the mirror. You look…girlish. Virginal. Maybe you should have chosen a different set.

You stare at yourself for a bit longer, and the more you stare at yourself, the higher your shoulders raise, until you're practically curled in on yourself. You look dumb. Alpha will hate it. You should have chosen something that covers more skin.

You very nearly jump out of your skin when you hear your apartment door slide open, and familiar heavy footsteps enter your personal quarters. “Cyare?” Alpha calls, and you sigh silently as you press your hand over your racing heart.

Right, you invited him over.

There’s a light knock on the door, “Cyare, you in there?”

“Yeah, um…just, give me a moment.”

“Sure.” You hear him walk away from the door and you glance at yourself in the mirror one more time. You release a silent sigh, and grab your clothes to pull them over the set you’re wearing. 

You can’t return them, but once Alpha has left for the night, you can toss them in the incinerator. You shove the box under the sink, and shove the undergarments you wore to work into the laundry bin, and then you open the door while twisting your hair up off the back of your neck.

“Sorry,” You say with a small smile, “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“I dipped out early.” Alpha explains as his gaze wanders your body, “Got tired of the brats.”

“Your brothers?”

“Eh.”

You laugh softly, “You can’t fool me, Alpha. I know you love them.”

He rolls his eyes, “The only person I have any sort of positive affection for is standing right in front of me.”

You duck your head head, a small smile playing on your lips, “The things you say sometimes.”

“You don’t believe me?” Alpha asks with a sly grin. 

“I believe that you like making me blush,” You retort as you glance up at him with a small smile.

“I do enjoy that,” He confirms as he presses his hand against your cheek. And you release a soft sigh and lean into his touch. You bring your hand up to settle lightly over his hand as you nuzzle into his strong touch.

There’s nothing soft about Alpha, every bit of him has been honed to being a dangerous weapon, and yet when he’s with you, he does his best to soften his sharp edges. And you can’t help but wonder if that’s what love is.

Alpha rumbles something and you open your eyes to look up at him. He’s scanning your body through a critical eye, and there’s a small furrow between his brows, “What’s wrong?”

“You look different than when I saw you at lunch.” Alpha notes.

“Well, I did change out of my scrubs,” You point out, gesturing to the more comfortable leggings and shirt you prefer when you’re not working.

“No, it’s not that.” He scans you a little more, and then his free hand moves to your shoulder, where your bra strap lies, and he rubs his thumb over the strap over the thin material of your shirt. And there’s a glimmer of surprise on his face, “Cyare, are you wearing lace?”

Your face flames and you drop your gaze to the floor, “Um…wanted to…but it doesn’t look…” You mumble, “Didn’t have a chance to change back.” You try to explain. 

“Can I see?” Alpha asks, his voice a low rumble, and you can feel him move even closer to you. 

Your head snaps up and your gaze meets his, “It looks bad, Alpha.” You say awkwardly, “I look…bad.” You add as you try to curl in on yourself.

“You are far too critical of yourself, cyare.” Alpha’s free hand moves to the hem of your shirt, and grips it gently. Gently enough that you could probably pull it out of his grasp if you really wanted to. “Let me see?”

You hesitate for a moment, and then, slowly, you nod.

Alpha slowly lifts your shirt and pulls it over your head, and then he tosses it to the side, his dark gaze locked on the delicate looking piece of cloth covering your breasts. 

He doesn’t say anything though as his warm hands move to the waist of your leggings and he slowly slides them down your legs, and over your feet, so he can toss those to the side as well.

And then Alpha takes a step back and he slowly drags his gaze across your body. 

Nervously you fold your arms over your stomach, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your chest, “See,” You mumble, “Told you. I look-”

“Can I touch you?” Alpha asks, his gaze locked on your chest.

Your gaze snaps to his face, and though your face is still heated with embarrassment, you slowly nod, “Of course.”

He rips his gloves off and tosses them, unceremoniously, onto the floor, and then his hands are on your bare hips, sliding up your sides to slide over the sheer lacy material covering you. 

And then his lips are against your neck, and he bites down on your shoulder, pulling a startled gasp from you. “Where have you been hiding this, cyare?” Alpha says through a groan.

“B-bought it, off the net.” You stammer.

“You have more?” He asks as he pulls you back towards the couch and then pushes you so you’re laying down.

“No…just this one.”

Alpha strips his armor off in record time, and then he’s on top of you, pinning you to the couch, and you flush as you feel the obvious erection pressed against you.

“I wanted to surprise you.” You add as you squirm under him.

He groans and presses his hips down, to still your squirming, “I’m surprised.” Alpha replies, “If this is the only one you have, I’ll have to be careful to not ruin it.”

“I can just buy another one.” You whisper.

Alpha stops moving for a moment, his gaze locked with yours, and then a sharp grin crosses his face. “Oh, cyare. I’m going to ruin you.” He breathes out. And then he’s moving again, sliding down your body, his lips and teeth leaving marks on your skin as he moves lower.

And then he grabs the band of the panties you’re wearing and he twists his wrist and pulls, and they rip at the seams. Alpha drops the thin material on the floor, and immediately presses his mouth against your pussy.

You try to close your thighs around him, but his strong hands pin your legs open as he flicks his tongue over your clit. In fact, he seems to be solely focused on that particular bundle of nerves. You press your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises as he rapidly pushes you towards your release.

And then, just before you topple over the edge, he stops, and moves to kiss your thighs and stomach. And you whine quietly. 

“Give me your hands, cyare.” Alpha orders, and when you reach down to him he grins sharply, “Good girl, so obedient for me.” His voice is low, and then he slides your fingers into his hair, “You keep these here, cyar’ika. I want to hear you. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” You whisper as you curl your fingers in his hair.

A slow smirk crosses his face, “Yes?”

“...yes sir.” You whisper.

Alpha groans and presses a kiss against your thigh, “So fucking hot, cyare.” And then his lips are on you again, wrapping around your clit and sucking hard. 

You’re not a loud person by nature, but Alpha did say that he wanted to hear you, so you make an effort to make your moans and whines loud enough for his ears.

He drags his tongue through your folds, gathering as much of your arousal as he can, and then he moves back to your clit, once more using his tongue and lips to send you hurtling to your orgasm. 

And this time he doesn’t stop as he pushes you over the edge, eagerly thrusting his tongue inside you to catch as much of your release as he can. He doesn’t stop, or pull away, until you come back to yourself.

And only then does he pull away and slide back up your body to crash his lips against yours. “You did such a good job, cyare.” he breathes against your lips, “So good for me.”

You lean into him, a whine slipping from you at his praise.

“Do you want my cock, cyare?” Alpha murmurs as he slides his hands up your sides, to your arms, to pin your hands over your head, “Tell me.”

“Y-yes.” You whisper against his lips. “Want you. Need you.” You gasp out.

“You have me, cyare. I’m right here.” He nips your lower lip, “Tell me.”

You squirm under him. “Need your cock. Please! Please sir?”

He groans, “How can I say no when you ask so nicely,” Alpha murmurs before he kisses you deeply, and then he flips the pair of you so you’re straddling him, and he deftly pins your arms behind your back, “There.”

You blink at him, hazy and very confused.

Alpha chuckles, “We’ll go at your pace,” He says, “Plus, this way I get to watch your pretty tits bounce when you ride me.”

“But, I don’t know how-”

“Shh, I’m going to help you, cyare.” He releases your wrists, and is pleased when he notices that you left them behind your back, and he tugs the bottoms of his blacks down enough that his cock bounces free. He gives himself a few lazy strokes, his gaze lingering on your still cloth covered chest, and then dragging his gaze down to your glistening pussy. “Okay, come here, cyare.”

You slide up his body, and with his help, slowly you sink down on his cock. The stretch is a little painful, but Alpha’s strong arm around you keeps you from moving too quickly.

And soon he’s completely inside you, and you’re both very still. His jaw is clenched, and his grip around you is very tight, “Fuck cyare,” His eyes close, “You’re so fucking tight. Feels amazing.”

He takes a deep breath, to get control of himself, and he looks up at you, “You okay, cyare?”

You hesitate and then slowly nod, “I think so?”

Alpha chuckles, “Move a little, cyar’ika.” He suggests. And then he groans when you do as he asks. “Just like that, cyare. Feels so good-”

You’re a little clumsy, but with Alpha’s help, you manage to find a rhythm that suits you both. And then his hands are everywhere, gliding over your nipples, pinching and rolling them through the lace of your lingerie, sliding up your back to pull you down so he’s able to kiss you, dipping between your thighs to apply pressure to your clit-

And that’s what pushes you over the edge. You clench around him, and your hips stutter to a halt as your orgasm washes through you. Alpha manages to flip the pair of you while you’re still riding out your orgasm, and he fucks you, hard, though your orgasm, chasing his own high.

You cling to him as he presses tightly into you, quiet moans of pleasure mixing with his own deep groans, and then his hips stutter, and he pulls out to spill his release against your stomach. 

You blink up at him, and he stares down at you as you both recover from your orgasms. And then Alpha smirks, “I really like the lingerie, cyare.”

You giggle, “I can tell.”

“The next set we get you needs a slit here,” He brushes his thumb between your folds, making you shiver, “That way I can fuck you with you still wearing it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” You reply.

And then he leans in and kisses you deeply, “Just so you know, I’m not even close to being done with you, cyar’ika.” Alpha promises, “You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow, sarad.”

You flush, but you aren’t opposed to the plan. 

“My good girl,” he murmurs, “Come on, we’re moving to the bed.”

[pastelwitchling]

Can I request something? Michael is gone for some reason and Alex promised he wouldn't work cause he hasn't really slept in a while and Michael gets home and figures out alex literally spent the whole time cleaning. Like house smells like straight chemicals and he hasn't eaten or taken care of his leg or anything

@brittz-2123

***

              Michael should’ve known. In retrospect, he should’ve tied Alex down to the bedposts and stripped him of his prosthetic and forced him to rest. A little extreme, maybe, but his husband rarely took a break if he didn’t really, physically have to. And as Michael walked into their home one night and got a whiff of lemon-scented cleaner and laundry detergent, he knew he’d failed somewhere.

              “So,” Michael greeted, leaning against their bedroom doorway with his arms crossed, “was it my mistake to trust you today? Is that where I went wrong?”

              Alex, lying on his stomach and scrolling through his phone, looked up and blinked innocently. “What? I’ve been resting, just like you told me to.”

              Michael fought the grin that threatened to take hold. “Being cute won’t work this time, Manes.”

              Alex’s façade cracked the barest trace as he raised a eyebrow and smirked. “Since when am I cute?”

              “Since always,” he narrowed his eyes, “and stop trying to change the subject. I thought we agreed you’d sleep the week off.”

              “And I did,” he shrugged, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

              “Damn you and your stupid captain riddle talk!” Michael snapped, closing the distance between them and shoving Alex down onto his back. “I told you to sleep the entire day off, not a few hours of it!”

              Alex laughed, hooking his arms around Michael’s shoulders as Michael bent down to swallow the sound, and then remembered he was supposed to be angry and pushed himself up, dragging Alex up with him.

              “Why does the house smell like cleaner?”

              Alex sighed heavily as he rested his forehead on Michael’s shoulder. He said something that came out muffled, his face too smushed against Michael’s jacket.

              He ran a hand down the back of Alex’s head. “One more time, baby.”

              Alex groaned and squeezed Michael close for half a second before he let go, and fell back on the bed with his arms spread out. Michael sat there, straddling him, waiting.

              “It was too quiet,” he finally said, searching the ceiling for something Michael couldn’t see. “I didn’t . . . I just can’t . . . handle the quiet today.”

              Michael nodded, running a hand up and down Alex’s thigh. None of this was new information. There were days, weeks, months even when Alex couldn’t take the quiet because it made the noise in his head that much louder. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve helped.”

              He shook his head, eyes closed as a weak smile tugged at his lips. “I can’t keep bothering you with this stuff, Guerin, I have to be able to manage it on my own—”

              “Hey,” Michael said, an edge in his voice he couldn’t help as he once again hovered over Alex. “None of that crap. I’m your husband, if you can’t count on me for stuff like this, then I’m just going to assume you don’t think I can offer anything.”

              Alex sighed, his grin widening a little as he caught onto Michael’s ploy. “You know that’s not it.”

              “Too late,” Michael argued, grabbing Alex’s thigh and hooking Alex’s legs more securely around his own waist. “I already feel unwanted. My husband doesn’t want to rely on me. What’s the matter with me, I wonder?”

              Alex chuckled deeply, forearm thrown over his eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

              “Is it the flannel?” Michael was smiling now as he nuzzled Alex’s jaw. “The belt buckle? You think I’m just a pretty face, don’t you?”

              He laughed fully, hugging Michael’s shoulders and pulling him in until his face was buried in the crook of Michael’s neck, and Michael held him back even tighter. Alex’s laugh faded into a deep sigh, and against his neck, he whispered, “I love you so much.”

              Michael lowered himself down until he was on his side beside Alex, an arm around his waist. “I love you more.”

              As Alex searched Michael’s face, his smile dimmed to something smaller, but soft. “I’m so relieved you’re here, baby.”

              Michael scooted closer, until their chests touched, and he cupped Alex’s jaw, his thumb brushing Alex’s cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere, Private. Is the quiet still bothering you?”

              Alex shut his eyes to Michael’s touch, covering his hand with his own, and that pinch in his brow finally faded. “Not so much right now.”

***

Happy malex Monday ❤️

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

C/W ::: In NO particular order ::: Soft, sweet. Kats and y/n missing each other. Turns to more than soft and sweet. Mild masturbation mentions, mutual masturbation -> F!orgasm, P->V, recording herself for Kats, a fun little set up that's been bubbling around in my mind for a couple of weeks now. They're happily ever after whatever.

WC ::: 2123

Proofread one or twice. Sorry if I missed anything horrific.

Katsuki was out of town on a week long mission. He had been gone for almost 4 days now and you missed him so much it hurt. He missed you, too. Your touch, your smile, and the sound of your voice. But what you sent him made him miss you even more.

He was just getting into his room for the day. You'd messaged him earlier that you were going to send him something. But you were going to wait until he was in for the night. You both knew he couldn't wait to watch it until he was in for the evening. So you told him to let you know when to send it (for real - not 'oh yeah, I'm totally in my room now, babe.').

"Hi Kats. I know you're not going to be home for 3 more days or so. But I miss you, baby. I miss you ... so, so much. So I thought that I could do a little something for you. Y'know, just in case you miss me, too. I hope y'like it. I hope you come home soon. I love you so much an' I miss you more, baby. Come back to me quick, Kats. I fucking love you so much, Dynamight."

You left the camera on top of the dresser as you went out of the shot to change into a set of bright orange lingerie. You remember him saying once how he loved the color against your skin.

You started to record the video in front of a mirror, so he could see your whole body moving beautifully to the music (to his favorite song). Your hips swayed to the beat, your ass jiggled with every movement, and your tits bounced deliciously.

Katsuki was already feeling himself getting flustered. He reached down and pushed the growing tent in his pants back as best he could, imagining it was your hand reaching to touch him as he watched you dance. You were so fucking hot to him, and he wanted nothing more than to be with you right now.

He was so pissed that he was the one who had to be sent on this stupid task. But it was all part of the job. Katsuki knew this. It still made him mad that he had to watch you through the screen of his phone (though he'd watch it on the tiny screen of an iPod if he had no other options).

He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock out, giving it a few strokes while he watched you dance for him. He imagined you on your knees in front of him, sucking and licking him as he ran his fingers through your hair and brushed your cheek with his fingertips.

You danced around in front of the camera some more and you continued talking to him.

"Do you remember the night we met? It was in July and god, it was so hot outside. We were out with our friends. You with yours and me with mine. And I saw you pouting in the corner. You looked like a kid who was just put in a time-out."

You laughed as you recalled the memory and then your smile dropped. You missed him so much right now. So much more than you have ever before when he's out on a job.

"Kats, I miss you so much. I don't know if I can wait for you to come home, baby." You shook yourself out and got back to swinging your hips around for him. "I have a confession to make, I watched you so closely that night. I needed to run into you. So I watched and waited for you to head to the bar and I walked up to stand next to you and said 'I'll have what he's having' and the bartender handed me an ice water."

He snorted out a laugh as the memory surfaced for him. "Tch, that dumbass gave you one of those stupid umbrellas and a mashed cherry 'n I sent that shit right back and told him to fix it." He stopped stroking himself at the thought of first meeting you. It made his heart ache, your absence was hitting him harder than it usually does this time around, too.

You continued, "Anyway, the crappy little umbrella and the cherry that looked like it'd been through a round or 2 with a blender. You had such a hissy fit about that for me. Oh man, and you were so pissed when I told you I didn't even like cherries." 

You stopped dancing and got right in the lens of the camera and just talked to him.

"When I finally convinced you that I didn’t give a shit about the stupid cherry, you loosened up a bit and started talking with me instead of just at me, hah! I knew right then, that night, I knew that I was going to fall for you. Did you know you were going to fall for me, too, Kats? What are you doing right now? Are you ... touching yourself? What are you thinking about?"

You backed away from the camera and he let out a low growl when he saw you'd taken your bra off.

"Call me, Kats. Call me right now, baby. Please ... I need to hear your voice."

You had been waiting for this. And the call you'd been hoping for finally, finally came. You smiled to yourself knowing that he was watching the little clip you'd sent him and that he was at the part where you told him to call you. You couldn't wait to talk to him.

"Hi." You said.

"I'm thinking about how you taste, babe. Your lips, your neck, your pussy."

You shivered at his words and you started to feel that familiar tingling sensation between your legs. "Kats, you know I can't help myself when you talk dirty like that."

"Yeah? You getting wet for me? Show me, baby."

You took your phone off speaker and put it up to your ear. "Hold on a sec, Kats. I just gotta get comfy."

You moved to the bed and pulled your panties off. "Okay, baby. I'm ready for you."

"Good, I'm so ready for you. I've been hard since I opened that video. You look so fucking hot. And then you told me to call you. Fuck, you're so sexy."

You could hear the sound of him stroking himself through the phone. It turned you on so much that you couldn't help but moan as your fingers slipped between your thighs.

"Wan' you so bad, Kats." You whined. "I miss your cock, baby. I miss your hands on me. I miss your lips on my skin. I miss the way you make me feel. I miss everything about you, Kats. Fuck, I'm so wet."

"Yeah? Tell me what you're doing, babe. Tell me how it feels."

"I'm rubbing my clit, Kats. It feels so good, baby." You moaned into the phone and you heard him moan back at you.

"You getting close, babe? You gonna cum for me? I wanna hear it, I want you to cum for me right now."

"I-I'm close, Kats. Oh fuck, I'm so close." A beeping in the background started and you groaned and told him to hold on a second, that you had something to take care of really quick. "Baby, don't move a muscle. Don't go anywhere, ok? I'll be right back."

He looked so sad as you put the phone down.

"Right ... back," you said.

He nodded.

His head shot up at the knock on his door. "NO, no thank you. I don't need towels or ... I don't need anything. BYE! Fuckin' read the sign on the door. Do not disturb. Fuck's sake."

Another knock. He was getting pissed. He pulled his pants up and dropped his phone on the bed, and then he went to the door and yanked it open.

"What the actual fuck is your problem?" He shouted. "Can't you see I'm ---" he stopped when he saw you standing there, holding your coat open, wearing the same lingerie you had on in the video.

A sly, shit-eating grin crept across his flushed face.

"I can ... you gonna invite me in so I can too?"

He grabbed your arm and yanked you inside, slamming the door behind you and pressing you roughly against it.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"I missed you, too, Kats. So fucking much." You kissed him. You missed the way his lips felt against yours. You missed the way his tongue slipped between them and teased you.

Katsuki slid his hands down your back and cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze before lifting you up onto his waist.

"Wh-what are you doing here? How'd you know where - who did you -?"

"I'm here because I missed you. I talked to the agency and they told me. More specifically, your secretary. She told me what room she'd booked for you and booked one for me right across the hallway. She deserves a raise." You told him between kisses.

"Fuck, she's gettin' one. Paid vacations ... whatever she wants. C'mere, c'mere.” He carried you to the bed and laid you down, slotting himself between your legs. “You still wet for me, baby? Did you finish?"

"No, I didn't. I wasn’t going to without you." You started to pull your coat and lingerie off and he watched with his mouth open and his dick straining in his pants. "Get naked, Kats. I wanna see you, baby."

He stripped as quickly as he could, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. He stepped towards you and you both reached for each other. Your hands found his cock and he moaned as you started to stroke him. His fingers found their way between your legs, and he started to rub your clit.

"Oh my god, Kats. I missed your hands so much. Don't stop."

"I won't, I promise. I won't stop until you cum, baby." He kept rubbing as he moved his mouth to your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples.

"Nghh, that feels so good, baby. I'm gonna cum for you. I'm gonna --" you arched your back and cried out as you came. Katsuki kept rubbing as you shook in his arms.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck, I love you so much. You're so fucking hot, babe."

You smiled at him and then pushed him back onto the pillows.

"You didn't think we were done, did you? Not until you fuck me, Kats."

He grinned again as he lay back. "Then what are you waiting for? Get on me, baby."

You straddled his hips and eased down onto his cock.

"Fuck, Kats."

He hissed through his teeth as he watched himself disappear into your body. You swallowed him so completely.

"You feel so good, babe. I missed you. You missed me filling you up like this, huh? You missed my cock in you, baby?"

"Ohhh, I missed your cock so fucking much, Kats. I've been thinking about you fucking me every night since you left."

You started to move on him. Slowly at first, but then you picked up the pace. Katsuki held your hips as you bounced on his dick.

"That's it, baby. Just like that. Fuck me harder."

"Oh my god, Kats. You feel so good in me, baby. I missed you so much. I missed this, I missed us, I missed everything about you, Kats. I love you so fucking much."

You were starting to get close again and Katsuki could tell. He wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you down on him harder and faster.

"That's it, baby. Cum on m-… cum for me. Cum all over my cock. I'm so fucking close, too."

You cried out as you came for the second time, and Katsuki couldn't hold back anymore. He came inside of you, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself.

You collapsed on top of him, both of you panting and sweaty. Katsuki held you tight and kissed you all over your face.

"I missed you so much, Kats. So fucking much."

"I'm so glad you're here, baby." He smiled. "Me too. I love you."

You smiled back at him and kissed him. You both knew that you had the whole night to stay there, to be tangled up in each other. Tomorrow you had to head back home.

And you both intended to make the most of the time you had with the other until the sun came up.

Taglist ::: @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl @arlerts-angel @dreamcastgirl99

[ashmp3]

What designers do you want to see jeonghan wear/etc?

when u start reading this u will understand the despair i felt when tumblr deleted my reply (just as i was finishing the margiela part) But we live… so okay i must warn you this is long and i made collages bc there was way too many pictures i wanted to show… One thing about me i don’t like to half ass things so i really hope you enjoy reading all this 🫶🏻 (this is one of my favorite questions i got asked EVER)

I wanted to start off with Jolo (Jeonghan solo) first just because i have that on my pinterest saved and Ready. You know i envision kind of fallen angel (1004) for one concept and venusian otherworldly beautiful man that it makes you uneasy for the other concept? Okay so first one some of the inspiration (versace ss02, mugler 84, givenchy (by mcqueen) haute couture 1997, mcqueen fw 06, blumarine ss24)

Second one i just think simone rocha all over… it would fit his whimsical looking ass…And this JPG look with the pearls AND the givenchy all white beauty just yes… Oh i adore.

Now let’s get into the Real Question. Need to make it clear that the fashion houses i mention are the ones i love (for myself aka it’s my taste aka the fits you see I ALSO WANT) so yes it’s biased a bit but i do always keep a tab on jeonghan so this is not something i just came up with… TRUST!

first of all i need to start with YSL (i just saw his ig story. Please) bc i BELIEVE that they will make him their muse. i just feel it in my intuitive soul and mind…. Anyway i already posted some looks i want to see him but it doesn’t hurt to get reminded. Sidenote i REALLY need to see him become part of snowflake community (i’m the president ofc) i just need to see him in a pretty šubara it is my right as his slavic woman…

peter do. I need him to hit up jeonghan… it’s possible like jeno walked for him can he please hop over to hybe i have a perfect person in mind…..

alexander mcqueen… that’s kinda a no brainer you know how much i love structured, sleek design of course i would love jeonghan in them too… Imagine his tiny waist in these just magnificent if you ask me…. And the little bunny bag. don’t even get me started on that i have ZERO words

now i know he is a very cozy man and likes his outfits to be baggy so much that you don’t even see his body. May i present him with some yohji yamamoto in my opinion he would rock everything AND would feel cozy and comfy like he does in his giant hoodies. Going with the cozy (bc i am afraid i will go over the picture limit) i have to (lump them together) and mention margiela - i am actually surprised i haven’t seen any svt man in tabis but there is still time 🫣 With that ofc comes early 00s hermes which is my favorite… (i didn’t post my f/w fits here bc i had other blog but i will this year and u will see what i’m talking about)

mugler… Let me not repeat myself the pictures can talk for themselves and in this case (bc again i got over the 10 pic limit) i gotta group him them with gucci (by tom ford it’s given) so we are talking maybe fw 96 with velvet suits or 1995 … Actually 1995 fits so well bc he is 95 baby okay okay SEE connections…. I need to be his stylist he would look so cunt.

i think schiaparelli would be good on him (manifesting. again if i could just have a word with his stylist.)

Had to delete anne demeulemeester paragraph i am sorry but this next collage was more important so it was a fight and anne lost. ANYWAY I would LOVE to see him in custom dilara findikoglu like imagine it says jeonghan dangling… similar to this i would love for him to have a todd oldham shirt with his name like nadja does here (a big cozy shirt bc he’s so difficult abt it…) This egonlab outfit i adore i had it saved i think it would suit him perfectly. and this haider ackermann leather wrap coat. and this vivianne westwood winter hat. and this 2123 shirts. And i think i should stop now before someone euthanizes me!

This got SO long i could talk about this for ages and i am sorry if this was all over the place i would make a powerpoint presentation if i had time. but i need to stop myself from exhibiting signs of mental illness on my dear blog. But i hope this was fun to read… I hope 🫶🏻

[lemoncrushh]

Out of Bounds - Chapter 27

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 2123

By the time Penny got home, I had begun to feel as close to normal as I had all week. Still, something had been gnawing at my brain all day. I couldn't seem to shake it.

I stood in the bathroom, my birth control pills in my hand. Could I be pregnant? In all the time I'd been on the pill, even back when James and I were still having sex regularly, I'd never once considered it could be possible. And I still knew there was a very, very slim chance I was. I'd never skipped a pill. My periods were always regular. In fact, I...

I counted my pills again, counting the days backwards in my head. I was due for another period in a few days. If I was in any way pregnant, and what I had been feeling was...God forbid...morning sickness, it sure seemed to happen quickly. Weren't you supposed to at least skip a period first before the signs began to show?

I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. I supposed I could wait until next week and see if I got my period. I dropped my pills back in my toiletry bag and sauntered into the kitchen where Penny was making dinner.

"You really should allow me to do something, Penny," I commented. "I feel like a guest here, and I don't want that."

"Don't be silly," she argued. "I'm not asking you to cook when you've been sick. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Much better, actually," I said. "Except..."

Penny raised her head from the pot she was stirring. "Except what?"

I debated for a second whether I wanted to confess my worry with Penny. She was the one who had asked me after all. But instead, I shook my head, deciding to take a different approach.

"Nothing," I answered, leaning against the counter. "I'm just not looking forward to signing those papers. But I know I need to get it done."

Penny nodded. "If you need help with anything, baby doll, just ask. Or if you want me to leave you the hell alone, say so."

I grinned at her, taking a cup towel and wringing it in my hands. "Penny..." I started.

"Yes?"

"Do you want kids?"

Penny stopped stirring and lowered the setting on the burner before turning to me.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "Maybe someday. It's just...right now I don't really see it on the agenda, you know?"

I nodded. "What about Zack?"

"What about him?"

"Does he want kids?"

Penny chuckled. "Zack is twenty-one. I can't imagine him being a father."

"Ever?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Well...I wouldn't say ever," said Penny with a shrug. "To be honest, we haven't discussed it. We haven't been going out that long."

I bit my lip and nodded again. I had to remind myself how quickly my romance with Harry had begun. We'd barely known each other three months. Three months! How could any sane person go through all I'd been through in that short amount of time?

"Yeah..." I mused. "I suppose it is a little soon to be discussing kids."

Penny turned to open the refrigerator door and stopped, slamming it shut.

"Tisa!" she exclaimed. "Are you...?!?!"

"No!" I shook my head. "I mean...I don't think so...shit, I don't know!"

"I thought you said you were on the pill."

"I did. I am. But...you don't think..." The cup towel I'd been holding was now wrapped around my wrist, and I pulled and yanked on it.

"I mean...I've heard of it happening," Penny remarked. "But I think it's pretty rare."

"Yeah..."

"Did you skip a period or anything?" she asked.

"No, not yet. It's due next week," I answered.

"Okay..." she nodded, the gears in her head turning. "Okay, then maybe that's not it. Maybe you just had the stomach flu."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Probably."

"You could always take a test," Penny added. "You know, just to make sure."

"You think I should?" I bit my lip.

"Sure. Because you're probably not. But at least it will ease your mind, and you'll probably feel a whole lot better."

"Alright," I sighed, leaning against the counter once more.

"Now!" Penny insisted, practically nudging me out of the kitchen. "Go get a test and take it!"

I laughed and grabbed my shoes, slipping them on before shoving into my coat. I waved at Penny and headed out the door and across the street to the drug store.

Other than school on Thursday, it was the first time I'd been outside since my meeting with Justine at the coffee shop. Although it had only been a few days, it already seemed so far away. I watched a woman pushing her baby in a stroller across the crosswalk ahead of me. Could that be me in nine months? Pushing Harry's baby along everywhere I went? I quickly shook my head. I was being ridiculous.

I stepped into the drug store, the automatic doors sliding open with a whoosh of unnecessary cool air. Something about the pharmacy always made me feel a combination of comfort and pity. I made my way toward the back of the store, down the aisle filled with various fall and Thanksgiving decorations, though overhead I could already hear the sound of Nat King Cole singing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

I stopped in front the display of various brands of pregnancy tests. I always found it funny how they were inevitably situated next to the condoms, as though they were mocking us all, saying, Oh didn't use one of these? You'll probably need one of these.

I couldn't help but notice a large pregnant woman standing at the pharmacy pick-up. She looked like she was ready to pop any minute. Her hand was pressed against her lower back, seeming to help her stand upright, for surely, she would fall over otherwise. She made eye contact with me, and I smiled at her.

"Which one?" I pointed at the pregnancy tests. I figured she would know.

She gave me a soft smile, shuffling her feet toward me. She reached forward and grabbed a box, handing it to me.

"This one's good," she said. "It's not as expensive as some of the others, but basically works the same."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Good luck," she called after me as I turned down the aisle toward check out.

As I made my way back to the apartment, my mind was going crazy with what ifs. Not just what if I was pregnant, but what if I was and Harry was angry about it? What if that was a deal breaker for him and he wanted to end our relationship? Or what if he didn't? What if he insisted on marrying me and raising this child together? Was I ready for that? I shook my head. I still had to settle this divorce first for God's sake. Talk about bad timing.

Penny was setting the table when I returned. "How'd it go?" she asked when she saw me shut the door.

I held up the bag indicating I'd gotten the test. Then I silently headed for the bathroom. I read the instructions first, three times to make sure I was doing it correctly, though it seemed easy enough. Pee on the stick, wait. One line you're not pregnant, two lines you are.

I made myself not look at the stick after I'd urinated on it, placing it on the sink while I pulled my pants back up and washed my hands. Then I put the lid down on the toilet and sat and waited, my eyes shut tight. I was afraid to look. My life had already gone completely topsy turvy. If the test was positive, I didn't know what I'd do.

I rubbed my eyes and opened them, grabbing the test. One bright pink line. Only one. It was negative.

Relief flooded through me tenfold as I exhaled slowly. I tossed the stick in the trash and exited the bathroom. Penny sat at the table, her plate untouched. She had waited for me. Emotions overcame me and the tears began to fall.

"Oh, Tisa," she cried, standing up and extending her arms.

I ran to her embrace, hugging her tightly.

"Tisa, it's gonna be okay," Penny murmured. "Harry loves you."

"No, no," I wiped my eyes. She had gotten the wrong idea. "I'm not pregnant. It was negative."

"What?" she glared at me, her eyes wide. "Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry. I just got emotional."

Penny sighed, rubbing my back. "I understand. These past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster for you."

I nodded, hugging her once more before releasing her. We both sat down at the table and she handed the casserole dish to me.

"Thank God though, right?" she exclaimed. "Now you know it was just a stomach bug."

"Right," I said sucking in my lips. It was a relief. I didn't need to be pregnant now. And by my twenty-year-old boyfriend no less.

So then why did I feel so sad?

After Penny had gone to bed, I lay in my own staring up at the ceiling. Thoughts of babies kept running through my head. I imagined holding one, kissing its forehead, inhaling its sweet scent. Then I imagined walking into the nursery, Harry standing over the crib, dangling a rattle or stuffed bunny and smiling as the baby reached up for it. These images began to consume my mind until I realized I was crying.

I knew it was unnecessary. I knew I was being silly about the whole thing. Babies were the furthest from my mind. Even after all this time, I still was not ready to be a mother. Sure, the decision had not been solely my own in the beginning. My mind had been made up for me by my husband. Because I had been young and naive. I had known then that I was not ready to start a family, so I'd agreed with James when he told me he didn't want kids. I guess even a small part of me thought perhaps one day he would change his mind. But still, being parents was not top on my wish list.

So why was I being so ridiculously emotional about it now, knowing that I wasn't pregnant with Harry's child? Was it merely because for one fleeting second I had thought perhaps I was? That it was possible I could be having Harry's baby? Because I was so completely in love with someone that the idea of our love merging could create another person? And now the knowledge that it was not true left an emptiness in my heart?

I must have cried myself to sleep because I woke with a startle when my phone alerted me of a text. It was Harry, saying he was home from work and missed me. Instead of texting him back, I called him.

"Hey," he greeted sleepily. "You're awake."

"Barely," I yawned

"Did I wake you?"

"Yes," I said. "But I'm happy you did."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and I miss you, and I can't wait to see you and kiss you all over."

"Wow." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Now I can't wait either."

"I love you, Harry!" I exclaimed

"I love you, too, baby," he said. "Are you okay?"

I laid my head back on my pillow, pulling the blankets up to my neck. "I am now."

"Good." I could hear him sigh, and I pictured him getting comfortable in his bed, his tattooed arm behind his head, his sheet and comforter barely covering his waist. "I wish you were here with me."

"I will be tomorrow."

"Yeah? Are you gonna stay the night?"

"If you want me to," I grinned.

"Why on earth would I not want you to?" His voice was deep and sexy, and I was suddenly turned on.

I chuckled. "I should probably let you go to sleep."

I heard him groan in protest.

"Harry...stop it."

This time he laughed. "Alright. Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight."

I hadn't felt the need to tell him about my little pregnancy scare. Since the test had come back negative and he hadn't known anything about my worry, there was no need to worry him as well. What's done was done.

Just hearing his voice had put my mind at ease. I couldn't wait to spend a relaxing evening with him and our friends. I cuddled up on my side and managed to fall back asleep quickly, getting a full night's rest.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[sylvestershouse]

'Paradise'

We are now in 2023.

100 years from now the date will be 2123.We will all be with our family and friends beneath the earth, our eternal destiny will be crystal clear before our eyes.

Our homes will be inhabited by strangers, our jobs will be done, and our property shall be owned by others.

Nothing will be remembered of us. Who amongst us now remembers his grandfather's father?

We will only be a line in some people's memory, our names and shapes will be forgotten.

So why do we prolong our thoughts or views on how people see us?

What is truly important?

Is it a job title?

starting a family?

leaving a legacy?

what is it?

The issue with all of these goals, although great, they all fade, and they are not promised. If you spent your whole life chasing them but it was not decreed for you, are you going to live a sad life in a constant pursuit?

Then we must ask, what does last? What is something that we can gain access to right now? No matter where we are, who we are and when we are, all that will always be is the truth.What is the truth?

That we were created by God and to Him we will return. Our bodies are not ours; they are something God entrusted upon our soul to live with purpose.

He gave us the tools, He sent down messengers to give us the knowledge, and all WE have to do is apply it.

Is it really that hard?

To live by timeless principles which will not only protect our hearts from the diseases of this life but also ensure that when we are resurrected and have our deeds and sins weighed. That God willing, we enter the place that is so mesmerising, our minds cannot even fathom it.

The Place where bliss and joy are eternal, no jealousy, greed, envy, hatred or turmoil will ever occur again.

When you live in a twisted sick world like this one, it is almost propaganda against your mind to find it hard to imagine such a place where tranquillity exists.

This worldly life is just a test and May God soften our hearts and allow us to be among those who are allowed to enter Paradise.

[firstprince-ao3feed]

Prince Henry and FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz Read Thirst Tweets

Prince Henry and FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz Read Thirst Tweets https://ift.tt/prosuT5 by vibrantsaturn "That's incredibly weird. What about your Twitter account?" "Yeah, I have a burner. I tweet thirst tweets about you on there all the time," Alex says, and he's serious. He does. "You do not," Henry says, eyes widening, his mouth falling open. or, FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz and Prince Henry of Wales shoot an Prince Henry and Alex Claremont-Diaz Read Thirst Tweets interview. Things get a little out of hand. Words: 2123, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Married Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, No Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff via AO3 works tagged 'Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor' https://ift.tt/R7ELsPV November 15, 2023 at 01:37PM

[yunho0o0o0o]

Scout's Honor [chapter 1]

Fantasy AU, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut

Pairing: OT8 Ateez x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, attempted theft

Word Count: 2123

Note: Hello! Here's the first chapter of Scout's Honor. I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Mini Masterlist

The sun’s golden rays are sparingly cast over the market street, but the work day is far from over. Vendors still shout advertisements for their products and crowds mingle around each booth, browsing the contents.

Having already bought what you came here for, you’re sat on a stoop at the far end of the path simply watching over the businesses. Your hand mindlessly reaches into your satchel, patting the section your coin pouch is tucked in. Not many people join you, too busy rushing to finish up sales. 

The market streets have become thick with tension over the past month, with the war in the far country of Sena cutting off trade supplies. Not many materials are affected currently, but those that have been are far too expensive for you to even consider purchasing.

Your heavy brown cloak is settled over you, obscuring your figure from those around you. The hood over your head serves to further hide your features, as well as to shield your eyes from the harsh light of the near-setting sun. This scene is one you’ve grown familiar with over the past few years of living in Priua. 

The call of one particular merchant draws your attention to the opposite side of the street. Under your hood, you can see old man Dal waving his arms around with a scowl as he scolds a slim man dressed in fine leather.

The younger man seems more interested in the minuscule scuffs on his boots and dirt under his nails than in whatever Dal has to say to him. 

Your town sees its fair share of travelers, but this one has a careless attitude that has you on edge. Rising from your viewpoint, your feet take wide strides across the cobbles until you stand just a pace away from the man.

When Dal catches sight of your hood, his face relaxes a degree and his hunched shoulders square to meet you. He gives a slight bow of his head before stating his case.

“Sir Eun, This boy tried stealing from me!” the man cries. Your eyes catch onto the form of this supposed thief, tilting your head slightly as you study him. “Right from under my nose like I’m senile!” His boots are high quality, yet they’re scuffed and muddied. 

“He asked for an item then tried snatching these off the table when I wasn’t looking!” he yells, holding up a worn pouch of herbs. From what you can see of the dagger on the traveler’s hip, it would go for a good price at the market. “As the best healer in the city, you would know the hard work it takes to procure this fine product.” 

Trailing up the new man’s form, your shadowed eyes eventually raise to meet his cat-like ones. His eyebrow twitches upwards as does a corner of his lips. You level your stare at him, thinking. He hardly looks like someone who would need to steal.

Shifting your glance between the merchant and the man, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You take steady steps towards Dal and pull the coin pouch from your satchel.

 “Perhaps our friend here is down on his luck at the moment. Here-” you pass the necessary coins with a soft, diplomatic smile, “for the herbs.” You pause, then tuck a few more coins into his palm. “And for the trouble.” 

“You’re too kind, Sir Eun.” You wave away his comment and grab the bundle of herbs from him, then turn to face the newcomer again. 

Only this time, nothing but open air awaits you. Your eyes dart around the darkening street, but you catch no sign of the man. “That bastard…” you grumble under your breath, settling for tucking the herbs into your satchel and trudging back to the tavern for the night.

You leisurely kick a pebble down the path for the short walk there. While you walk you ponder what you could do with the herbs. Perhaps you could simply resell them? From what you recall of the rare item, they aren’t good for much unless you’re working with poisons. Even then, its presence is hardly discreet.

By the time you set foot in the tavern, the regulars have already gotten comfortable at their usual tables. Come to think of it, you’ve become somewhat of a regular yourself here these days. However, you don’t go drinking yourself into a stupor any chance you get as the typical crowd here does.

You sit in the middle of a long table. With how dead the tavern is tonight, no one will mind if you take up a large space for yourself. The soft clink of glass on wood in front of you raises you from your thoughts. 

“Your mind must be quite busy to not greet me first thing, Eun. I brought you two tonight, as a precaution. I’ll have to go back to work in a second, but I always make an exception for my most valued customer.” Your eyes shift to meet those of the person sitting across from you, hands locked around two pints of ale on the table between you two. 

“Sorry, Jihye,” you say, gaze jumping around the room. “Just stressed, is all.” The chair gives a loud creak as you lean back into it.

“What’s stressing you?” she asks wiping her hands on her apron and leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. You pause a moment before responding.

“I have to meet with Sir Iseul of Chion,” you state, a distant look covering your features. Chion is not a terrible city by far, but you’d much prefer to stay in Priua where you’ve made your home. 

“Chion? But that’s so far! Nearly a month’s travel! What business is so important you must go to Chion? You shouldn’t be getting any closer to Sena!” she exclaims, eyes and mouth wide with shock. 

“It shouldn’t concern you, Jihye. It simply has to do with the healing arts. And Chion is a full two months travel from the battlefront. There’s nothing to worry about. We would know of the approach long before they ever reached the city.” you wave off her worries, taking a few sips from the closest pint.

Jihye shifts in her seat before her eyes raise to the door at your side. You take another sip from your pint of ale and follow her gaze, only to nearly spit it out when you see the form entering the tavern. 

The man from before pauses a few feet into the establishment to look around. You turn and lower your head as his gaze sweeps over your table, hoping your hood will help you blend in. The approaching footsteps alert you that your attempt at stealth was unsuccessful. Jihye seems to notice his approach and stands from her chair.

“Well, I should be getting back to work, Eun. Yell for me if you need anything.” She dusts off her apron before quickly walking towards the kitchen. In the next moment, the chair to your right is pulled from under the table and flipped around. The man sits down on it backward and sets his arms on the backrest. He looks over to you with a quick smirk.

“You know, I didn’t get to thank you properly earlier.”

“Perhaps because you were too busy running away?” You send him an amused grin.

“I didn’t stray too far. I was close enough to see you bought what I wanted.” He leans forward against the backrest, gesturing with his hands as he speaks. “How about I buy it off you? I swear I’ll pay this time.”

“Hmm... I’m not sure.” You pick at your nails, seemingly disinterested. “What if I happen to find myself in need of some…”you pause to recall the name of the herb in your possession, but come up short. “What if I plan to keep it?”

He pulls a coin pouch from his satchel and places nearly double the amount you had paid on the table in front of you. “Would this amount suffice?” he asks, lip curling into a smirk. You pretend to contemplate the decision momentarily, tapping your chin.

“I suppose it could,” you say, gathering the coins into your palm and retrieving the bundle of herbs from your bag. As soon as you lay the herbs on the table, he snatches them away. “What do you plan to use those for anyways? They’re hardly common around here.”

“A friend of mine asked me to retrieve them while we were in town. I have no clue what he plans to do with them.” A loud series of footsteps from the entrance grasp your attention.

“San, who’s the new friend?” Seven more men take seats at your table, all but encircling you.

“This would be Eun. He saved my ass from an angry merchant earlier today.” Your eyebrows raise slightly at his informality.

“Have you thanked him properly?”

“I was getting to that before I was so rudely interrupted by you all.” He pauses a second before continuing. 

“Eun, let me introduce my friends. This is Seonghwa.” The blond man who spoke earlier perks up and sends you a calm smile.

 “Hongjoong.” Next to Seonghwa, the man with light brown hair waves politely. 

“Yunho.” The taller man sitting to your left gives a mumbled greeting with a nod of his head.

 “Mingi.” He smiles wide at you from across the table.

 “Yeosang.” He simply raises his hand. 

“Wooyoung.” To Yeosang’s side, a hand waves enthusiastically. 

“And Jongho.” A soft ‘hello’ comes from the last. “We’re passing through Priua on our way to Krae.” Your eyes widen at that information. Krae is a settlement Northeast of here and perhaps a week's travel from Chion. In fact, they would pass through Chion if heading there from Priua. 

“Can I get you men anything to eat or drink?” Jihye stands, observant as ever, in front of your table. Hongjoong raises his hand.

“Eight pints, please.”

“Of course. I’ll be out with those in a moment.” Silence washes over the group.

“I want to join you,” you say. Exclamations of surprise echo around the table.

“Why?” Hongjoong questions immediately. A glance at the others tells you they’re all wondering the same.

“I need to get to Chion. I’m meeting with someone.” The men share a look with each other before Hongjoong continues.

“Why should you join us? What do you have to offer to the group?” Glasses clink on the wooden tabletop as Jihye sets one in front of each of the newcomers. She sends you a charming smile.

“Well, Eun is the best healer in town. Hell, maybe even the country. He’s extremely skilled.” A slight flush rises on your cheeks at the praise and you look away from her gaze.

San leans closer to you and says in a low voice “They must be very important to you for you to travel so far.” You nod. 

“Extremely,” you answer, adorning a determined look.

“So just how good of a healer are you, Eun? Surely you have some stories.” Yeosang asks with a flat expression.

“Aish- Detective Kang back at it again” one of the men murmurs.

“What?” he asks with a glance around the table. “ I want to know more about who we’re dealing with here.” he shrugs.

 Jihye makes her way back to refill everyone’s pints just in time to answer for you. 

“Oh, he’s the best! Once Hyunjin snapped his arm clean in two and Eun here was able to get it back together, healed, and functioning in record time! And one time In-Su got bit by a venomous snake and Eun sucked the venom out! Don’t doubt his abilities, he’s called the best for a reason.” she finished with a stern look at Yeosang.

“That’s good to hear. We could use another healer considering the trouble we’ve had recently.” Hongjoong says, shooting a half-hearted glare at the man to your left.

“It was an accident, I swear!” he exclaims. Seonghwa and Hongjoong whisper to each other for a minute before their attention returns to you.

“I suppose if it’s just to Chion, you can accompany us,” Hongjoong says, extending a hand to you. “Welcome aboard, Eun.” A few cheers and mumbles erupt from the surrounding men at his exclamation. Some of your new companions seem eager to celebrate, with how they’re throwing back ale like there’s no tomorrow.

“We leave Priua tomorrow before dawn, will you be ready? Chion is three weeks away if we’re quick.” Seonghwa asks, eyes searching your own. You give a nod. “Good. We’ll meet in front of this building. Bring all you’ll need.” he says, leaning back into his chair.

[silenceofthecookies]

Hewo Cookie-saaaan ♡

Congrats to 800! I hope you will get many many more!

May I please ask for prompt 7 of your Royalty AU with reader as royal and either Eustass Kid, Masrur or Yami Sukehiro?

Thank youuu!

Soooo... this one got a little long. I usually really don’t like writing for Kid but somehow this time words came really easy. And... I might make a part 2 of it sometime? Feel free to let me know if you’d like one, but for now, enjoy this oneshot! 

Word count: 2123

Warnings: alcohol (no characters getting drunk)

“Why can't you just behave like the prince you are?! To your chambers, and think about what you did!”

Stupid old man. So what he told that noble he was full of shit? It was true, and everyone knew it. Yet somehow, ‘politeness’ was to let him boast about his fake achievements and pretend to be interested. Where was the logic in that? Kid groaned and dropped down onto his bed after ridding himself of the stuffy, suffocating clothes he was forced to wear every day, leaving him in just his dress shirt and pants. The commoners wore much more comfortable clothes, yet he had to wear this stuffy crap ‘to display his status’. Bullshit if you asked him. Practicality was much more important than ‘displaying status'. He heard a soft knocking on the door. Normally he would have told whoever it was to fuck off, but the pattern of the knocking let him know who it was.  

“Come in, Y/N.”

Quietly, you entered the prince's chambers and closed the door behind you.  

“I've brought you some coffee, your highness.” “I don't want your fucking coffee.” “Trust me, I think you do.”

Any other servant who would have talked to him like that would have faced his wrath, but not you. You've been in the castle for many years, and though Kid may not have known you that well, you seemed to know him like the back of your hand. And because of that, he decided to trust you. He took the cup from you and took a sip, nearly spitting it out at the taste. You had put alcohol in this, and not just a little. This was probably more alcohol than coffee. With a grin, he took a gulp.

“You're right, I do want this coffee.” The corners of your lips turned upward a little as he grinned, happy your little plan worked out. You watched him down the rest of the cup, before throwing it against the wall. His actions did not startle you, and you quietly remained in his room, waiting for him to start talking. It was the same pattern every time. Get sent to his room, destroy something, vent to you, then do something about it or calm down.  

“It's just so fucking stupid. All these nobles trying to suck up to us, I mean. He's just bragging about things other people achieved, or just making shit up. And we're supposed to just listen to that? Does he think we're that fucking stupid? It's an insult, really. Stupid fucking nobility.” “Not just nobility does that, prince Eustass. Many people do so, pretending to be more than they are, hoping to achieve more that they can.” “It's fucking stupid. Words won't get you anywhere. Stuffy clothes won't get you anywhere. If you want to achieve something, you've gotta work for it. It's frustrating me to no end.” “Perhaps you should take a break." “A break?” “Yes. You are on good terms with prince Killer of the neighboring country, correct? You could go visit him for a week or so, to ‘keep up the friendly bonds between the countries'. Nobody wants another war. I'm sure prince Killer would agree to making up something about negotiations or some meeting as well to make it seem like you absolutely have to go.” “Y/N, Killer is great and all, but I'd still be in a castle. What's the fucking point? These fake bastards would still be everywhere.” “So you want to get away from the higher class?” “Yes!” “...I may be overstepping my station, your highness, and forgive me if I do, but you could pretend to go visit prince Killer and stay at my house?” Kid stared at you for a few seconds, letting your suggestion sink in.   “Y/N, you're a woman, I'm a man. People will think low things of you.” “We can say you're a relative of mine who is visiting.” “You'd still have to work, right?” “I've got some time off that will be coming up soon.” “That's time you should be away from me.” “Your company would not bother me.” “Bullshit.” “I mean it.”

Kid stared you down, looking for any sign of a lie, or some ulterior motive, but he couldn't find any. Of course he couldn't. You have always been different from those suck-ups. Honest. Transparent. And he had to admit, living as a normal person for a while seemed great. He'd always wondered how the common people lived and interacted, and if it differed much from nobility and royalty. And you were right, a break did sound good.  

“I have one condition though.” “Name it.” “You will drop all formalities. No politeness, no ‘your highness’ or ‘prince'. You'll treat me as you would any other person. What happens when I'm in your house will not affect your position here in the castle. Understood?” “Very well. So I'd address you as Kid?” “Yes.” “Alright. I can agree to those terms.” “Good. Then that's settled. When you do have your time off?” “In 3 weeks' time. That should be enough to set up an excuse to get out of the castle with prince Killer, correct?” “Yes. I'll write him a letter immediately.”

And so, the plan started. For the coming 3 weeks, Kid waited impatiently for the time to be over. As expected, Killer had no issue going along with Kid's plan. You were still polite as ever, pretending nothing was going on, but making arrangements on your end. Kid wondered how different you would be outside of the castle walls. You had agreed to drop all formalities, how were you really? Kid realized that for how well you knew him, he knew nothing about you. Nothing about your family, your hobbies, your likes and dislikes,… He had never asked about them after all. Oh well, no use crying over spilt milk. He'd find out soon enough.  

He left in the carriage as he usually would, so he didn't raise any suspicion from his parents. You were on good terms with the stableboys and the coachmen, and you had arranged a dropping-off point with him, after which he would proceed to travel with an empty carriage. There were common clothes inside the carriage, so Kid could get changed in there. Arranging it all was both nerve-wrecking and exciting. If you got caught doing this, you'd be in big trouble. If anyone told the king and queen about the plan, there'd be big trouble for everyone involved. And yet, if all would work out, you might be in for the best week of your life.  

You've served the castle ever since you were a young girl. The royals may not have known you personally, but you knew them all well enough. Eventually, due to your hard work, you were assigned as a maid to the prince. He had a foul temper, no manners and a lot of servants were afraid of him because of his explosive character. After serving him for a while though, you noticed the positive traits about the prince as well. He was smart once he could control his impulses. He was innovative. He really did care about the people of his country. Because of this, his temper no longer scared you. You knew he'd never hurt anyone in the castle as long as they didn't hurt anyone. And eventually, by staying by his side, unflinching and ever honest, he started to trust you. To open up to you. You almost became like a confidant to him. Over time you got to know him better and better, and now, you were a little ashamed to say you had fallen in love with your prince. You should have resigned from your position as his maid in the very least, but you couldn't bring yourself to. Selfish and maybe stupid as it was, you wanted to remain close to him, despite the risk to yourself. You knew he saw you as nothing more than a maid, and likely never would. You knew you'd never be allowed to speak these feelings. You knew eventually he'd have to marry some other royal in a political marriage and that seeing that would break your heart. But you didn't want to leave his side either. You didn't want to give your spot at his side to someone else.  

As you headed towards the meeting point where you would pick the prince up, you decided not to worry about what would happen afterwards and to just enjoy this week. He basically told you to be yourself the coming week, so yourself is what he'd get, no matter if he liked it or not. Afterwards, you could go back to how you usually acted if he really hated it. And if not... maybe you could be yourself more often around him.  

Soon enough, the carriage came into sight. You waved at the coachman, who waved back at you. The carriage came to a halt in front of you, and you looked around before opening the door. Kid stepped out, dressed in normal clothes. He wouldn't have stood out at all, if not for his bright red hair. Luckily most people didn't know what the prince looked like though, and likely with his attitude they wouldn't believe he was the prince anyway. As soon as the coachman heard the door fall shut, he urged the horses to start walking again and left.  

“Well then, let's go to my house first.” you said. Kid nodded and walked with you. You walked in silence, unsure of what to say. The moment you came back into the busy parts of the city though, you didn't need to say anything. Kid's eyes were fixated on everything around him, to the point where you had to pull him out of the way sometimes because he wasn't paying attention to the road.  

“My, Y/N, who do you have there?” the blacksmith called as you passed him by.   “Hello Harris! This is my cousin, Kid. He's going to be staying with me for a while.” “Ah, your father mentioned having a brother in the countryside. Nice to meet you, son! I'm Harris. Y/N's father was my teacher, and Y/N let me use the old workshop after he passed. If you ever need anything, let me know!” “Thanks. Do you mind if I come visit sometime while I'm here?” Kid asked, rather casually. You were a little surprised he took interest in such things.   “Sure, if you don't mind watching me work.” “That's the point.” “You interested in smithing, son?” “I am.” "Well, if you ever want to learn, let me know! Your uncle was an amazing smith and if you have even a hint of the talent he had, I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time!” "Thanks.” “Well then,” you interrupted, “I'll bring him by sometime! We have some business to attend to first now though, but we'll see you around, Harris!” “Alright, see you!”

You urged Kid to walk ahead again, waving at Harris as you did.  

“So your father was a smith.” Kid concluded once you were out of earshot of Harris.   “He was. He supplied most of the swords for your family, actually. It’s how I ended up in the castle, my mother had passed and he couldn’t have a kid running around the smithy, so when he heard they needed new servants at the castle, he had me go there.”   “You’ve been with us for that long?”   “Yes. As a child I used to mostly stay in the kitchen, chopping food, preparing platters for the other servants to take upstairs,…”   “How’d you end up being my personal maid then?”   “Everyone else was terrified of you.”   “And you weren’t?”   “Oh I was, but I wasn’t given a choice.”   “...but you’re not afraid anymore now?”   “Not at all.”   “Why not?”   “Because I got to know you, and I learned that you’d never hurt anyone in the castle, even when you’re throwing a fit.”   “I do not throw fits.”   “Oh of course not, everyone throws cups at the wall when they get told off.”  

Kid’s head snapped towards you, surprised at what you just said. He had told you to drop all formalities, but he had not expected you to use sarcasm with him, at least not already. When his eyes landed on you, he watched your lips curl upward in a grin, which turned into laughter when you caught his eyes.

“You told me to drop all formalities, Kid, and I’m planning on doing just that. You’re going to get to know a whole other side of me.”  

Kid stared at your smile a little, before breaking out in one of his own.  

“I can’t wait."  

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one where Damiano leaves for tour

Description | Damiano is leaving but before he does, he is sure to give you one last taste of himself.

Content | Smut - filthy, filthy smut

Pairing | Damiano x fem!Reader

Word Count | 2123

Taglist | @mywritingonlyfans @ethaneskin @ginny-lily @tabi-toast @mnskin @ohtorchio

***

You were awoken by a harsh slap to your bare butt. Your first instinct was to sit up but you soon realised that wasn't going to happen - you were lying on your front with your hands tied behind your back. Looking to your right you immediately found the culprit.

Damiano was standing next to the bed, completely naked, staring down at you with a dangerous smirk on his face. How on earth had the bastard managed to do that to you while you were asleep? You didn't even consider yourself a heavy sleeper, so this was rather impressive. Then again, you didn't really feel like complaining. There was something dangerous, something exciting about Damiano deciding to be the dominant one for once.

"Good morning, bellezza. Hope you're well-rested."

"Don't you have a bus to catch?" You challenged. You knew he had gained the upper hand long ago - in fact, he had done so the very moment he had decided to eliminate the use of your arms - but neither of you minded the little game.

"Oh, I do. Which is why you have very little time to make sure I remember you and your sweet body while I tour all over Europe for the next two weeks."

"And how exactly do you expect me to do that?"

Damiano didn't answer as he stared down at you. Instead, he slowly let his hand travel down his body, purposely putting on a show the way he sometimes did on stage, before grasping his cock and giving himself a few strokes. You tried wriggling in your restraints to no avail. It bothered you that he was standing next to you in all his naked glory while you were still clad in the shirt you slept in and a pair of skimpy panties. You were dying to touch him, run your hands over his skin, kiss where he needed you most, but he had other plans.

In slow, calculated moves, he started walking around the bed, vanishing from your field of vision. You desperately tried to turn around to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, but the silk rope around your wrists had you moving clumsily and without proper direction. As much as you wanted to hate it, you couldn't deny the excitement that came with it. The restraint, the fact that you didn't know what was coming. So naturally, it caught you off guard when another slap landed on your bum. Your gasp was quickly replaced by a quiet moan as both of his hands started squeezing the soft flesh of your buttocks, massaging them roughly. You could feel him push your panties upward to expose more of your skin, but it only ended up giving you delicious friction between your thighs as the fabric slid up your pussy. It was beyond you how he had gotten you so turned on so quickly.

"Don't you dare be quiet," he suddenly said from behind you. You could feel the mattress dip as he moved onto the bed, straddling your legs, his bare skin touching yours. "I want to hear every moan load and clear, understood?"

You barely whimpered out a yes when you felt his cock hard and heavy, resting on your butt. Your fingers were dying to reach for him, touch him, feel the weight of him in your palm, stroke him the way you knew he liked, but you had no choice. You were at his mercy, awaiting whatever he was planning to do with you.

Damiano's fingers trailed between your legs, softly rubbing your slit over your underwear and you were certain that a wet patch was forming rapidly. You craved more, a more intimate touch, more skin, a deeper feeling, but before you could even consider voicing your thoughts, he backed off. He started leaning over you, careful not to put too much of his weight on you, until his mouth was next to your ear.

"Enjoy it while you can because I'm not letting you come any time soon."

His low voice sent shivers down your spine, just as his movements did when his cock started rubbing on your behind. A whimper escaped your lips, the anticipation becoming too much. He got onto his knees, roughly pulling you up by your waist until your butt was sticking up in the air. Your attempts to hold yourself up were futile and your face was pressed into the mattress below you. This new position left you with even less of a chance to control your own body, leaving him to decide all your movements as your face was roughly rubbing against the sheets. You couldn't deny it - this was hot.

Damiano kicked your knees apart to make some space for himself as he slid his cock in between your legs and up against your pussy, before he started moving. Every thrusting motion seemed to be accompanied by a light slap to your flesh and you found yourself jerking forward every time his cock brushed against your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You couldn't contain your moans even if you had tried.

Suddenly his hand grasped your hair in a tight ponytail, yanking you upwards, his other hand quick to support your upper body as it left the mattress until you were seated on his lap. He was relentlessly thrusting up at you, your legs situated on either side of his. You were quickly turning into a sweaty mess, heat erupting from every pore of your body, especially knowing that Damiano was not going to let your release any time soon. His mouth was too close to your ear and his groans were sending you on another high, getting you closer and more worked up but never quite enough.

His hand wound himself around your front, lightly grasping at your throat, applying just enough pressure to take away your breath for a second at a time. You loved the feel of his fingers on you.

"I think I should leave you with a few souvenirs before I go just so you don't forget who you belong to."

His mouth was now attached to your neck, sucking and biting and unquestionably leaving an array of marks on you. You desperately wanted to bury your hands in his hair, pull on it, push him towards you, but your wrists were still bound, trapping your arms between the both of you. Usually, you'd tell him off, mad that he would mark you in places so hard to hide, but you wouldn't see him for two weeks. For once, he was allowed to do as he pleased. Your fingers started gingerly touching his belly, the only thing you could reach, but it wasn't enough.

His lips and teeth were still working their magic when his hands grasped onto your breasts. He easily found your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, giving little pinches before soothing them over with the palm of his hand. You were positively losing your mind, hot flashes running through you with every move he made. Every pinch had you gasping and shaking in his arms. He was touching you too much and not enough all at the same time. If only he would finally get you naked.

Your wishes were not heard - or simply ignored. Damiano noticed you getting increasingly restless though and in one sweeping motion, he had pushed you off his lap and let go of your completely. A coldness enveloped your sweaty skin immediately, leaving you in shivers.

"Turn around so I can see your face."

It felt clumsy, staying on your knees and shuffling around, but Damiano didn't seem to mind. Upon finally seeing his face again, you realised just how into this he was and judging from your situation, you couldn't blame him. His face already looked positively fucked out. Eyes dark and hooded, lips puffed from the treatment he had been giving your neck, hair all over the place. He had never looked more gorgeous to you and it filled you with a sense of pride knowing that only you could put him into this state. Your eyes wandered down his body, taking in every single one of his features and tattoos, before landing on his cock. He was impossibly hard.

Damiano came closer to you, your head now at cock-level, and it was painfully obvious where he wanted you. You didn't hesitate. Looking up at him through your lashes you willingly opened your mouth, an obvious sign of consent in anticipation of his next move. He didn't hesitate either, guiding his hard flesh between your lips. His groan sounded like music to your ears.

You eagerly sucked him, giving him everything you had, letting go and letting your tongue run up and down his shaft before swallowing him again. Damiano's hand wandered into your hair once more, carefully pushing you further onto him. Your eyes met his for a moment, telling him everything he needed to know, telling him you were willing to get him there. You ceased your movements, opening wide and let him take over. His hand was guiding your head as he thrust into your mouth, pushing his cock in deeper than before, making you deepthroat him. Tears were forming in the corners of your eyes from the intrusion and the strain and yet you had never felt sexier in your life. His other hand quickly caught a single drop that escaped, softly stroking your cheek as he continued to move into you. You pushed your thighs together as tightly as possible, chasing some sort of friction, clenching around nothing, but it just wasn't enough.

You knew he was close, aware of all the little signs you had grown to love so much in the time you had been with him. The way his movements became more irregular, the specific kind of high-pitched moans escaping his mouth, the way his eyes fluttered closed even when he tried to keep them open. You prepared yourself for his orgasm, willing to ride him through it, but he had other plans.

You were already embracing his impeding high, but he wrecked himself away from your mouth, roughly grabbing your shirt and pushing it upwards over your breasts. You arched towards him as he stroked himself two, three more times before finishing on you.

"Fuck," he groaned, eyes closed as relief and euphoria seeped through his veins. You felt like dying. Seeing him finish, and on your breasts nonetheless, had gotten you so wet, you were convinced your panties were completely soaked through at this point. As he opened his eyes again, he smirked down at you. You were aching all over, both from the position you were in and the fact that you still hadn't gotten any release.

In a quick move, Damiano grabbed your legs, shifting you from kneeling to sitting on the edge of the bed. As he knelt down between your legs, you were ready to transcend to heaven - or into a mindblowing orgasm, whichever came first. He placed hot, wet kisses along the inside of your calves, your thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most, spreading your legs, finally reaching your pussy.

His sneer didn't promise anything good. He slowly dragged your panties down your legs, fingers grazing your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps. You could see the massive wet patch as he held the fabric in his hands.

Then he stood up. Threw your underwear into his bag. And started dressing.

"Damiano, what the fuck?!"

This was unbelievable. Would he seriously go and leave now? Surely not, right? You were literally sitting on your bed, hands still tied, your wetness now probably dripping down onto the sheets, your breasts still covered in his fluids, and he was calmly putting on his clothes.

"Right, I gotta go," he said, nonchalantly, as if this was completely normal and not borderline insane. He moved around you to untie your hands, put a quick kiss to your mouth, and you briefly considered slapping him.

"No, no way you're doing this to me," you protested, trying to get up but failing, your legs still shaky. "You are not going to turn me on like this, use me, come on me and then leave?!"

"Well, I'm very sorry, bellezza." He didn't sound sorry at all. "But the bus is waiting and I've got a tour to go on."

Damiano walked away from you, just briefly stopping in the doorway to turn back towards you one more time.

"Oh, and remember the rules. No touching yourself while I'm away unless you're on the phone to me. I'll call you tonight. Maybe. And thanks for the souvenir."

You had never hated your boyfriend more.

[pastelwitchling]

So a thing I'd like to point out

The flashback episode (1x06)

Not only does Alex make a joke to max (the "I'll take high school cliches for 500 Mr trebeck" joke)

THEY WALK OFF TOGETHER

They were freaking friends!!! Or at least semi friends

Freaking obviously they'd get along now

And Alex the emo kid and max the tortured freaking poet

Poor Michael

There will be no peace

@brittz-2123

I was inspired 😂

***

“Baby?” Michael called from where he was lying on his stomach on his and Alex’s bed.

“Yeah?” Alex peeked his head in from the bathroom, and Michael held his phone up.

“Why’s my brother texting you?”

Alex snickered and went back inside, and Michael heard him splashing more water on his face as he said, “Because we’re hanging out today?”

“Yeah?” Michael sat up, idly scratching his naked chest as that thought settled. His lips pinched. “You and Max?”

Alex must’ve heard something in his voice because he stepped back into the bedroom with a small towel in hand, his brow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That tone.”

“What tone?”

He laughed and came to sit on the bed in front of Michael, his leg folded underneath him. “That tone. You’re not actually . . . jealous that I’m hanging out with him for the day, are you?”

“No, I just”—he gaped—“the day? As in, the whole day?”

Alex’s smile widened. “You know I married you, right?”

“I know,” he said, and winced at how defensive and possessive it sounded. Alex shook his head, eyes sparkling.

“So,” he tilted his head, “you’re okay that I’m friends with him?”

Michael swallowed, and too late, he said, “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Alex pressed his lips together like he was barely refraining another laugh. “I know Max and I have a lot in common—”

“Do you? I never noticed.”

“And I know it must be kind of weird for your husband and your brother to be so close.”

“Close? How close? Since when are you close?”

Alex gave Michael a second to calm down, the fingers of one hand gently brushing Michael’s jaw and the other running up and down his arm soothingly.

After a minute, he murmured, “Feel better?”

“I’m great,” he grumbled.

“It’s just two friends hanging out, okay?”

“I know.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

“I know that!”

Alex smiled at him then like he was the cutest thing in the world, and the inexplicable knot in Michael’s chest loosened. Except it wasn’t inexplicable at all. Logically, he knew Alex wouldn’t leave him for some unrequited feelings for Max. It was just that, try as he might to deny it, Alex and Max were so alike. More than he and Alex could ever hope to be. And while Michael didn’t think Alex was about to file for divorce any time soon, the idea that he could find more camaraderie in Max than him felt almost just as unsettling.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Alex brushed Michael’s nose with his thumb, and said, “Pretty cowboy?”

“Hm?” Michael instinctively caught Alex’s hand and interlocked their fingers, still staring at the blanket and caught in his thoughts, until Alex gently tilted his chin up and pecked his lips. That fully got Michael’s attention.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

That did it. Michael smiled then like every fiber of his body was beaming, and he kissed Alex’s fingers. Against his knuckles, his own cheeks burning, he murmured, “Wouldn’t kill you to say it every once in a while.”

Alex laughed fully at that and lunged at Michael, crashing their lips together and toppling them both backwards.

***

Happy Malex Monday ❤

Yikes. Looks like ao3 is down for a bit today. I'll try to post there again tonight, but it all depends on when they can get it fixed. It's still malex monday over there, just in our hearts.

[kitkatt0430]

There is a new episode of the Flash where apparently they're doing a mold inspection instead of just doing air quality testing on their own? Seriously? I know I'm not the only one going O_o at this setup.

Maybe the actual episode will make it work somehow? Time for me to find out.

And we're starting in 2123, so a hundred years from now. STAR Labs is the Flash museum with a statue of Barry out front. I can't tell from the angle of the opening shot but I assume the building's exterior still has not been repaired.

someone is poking around with flashlights, dressed mysteriously and headed for the weapons vault. This is clearly fine and normal.

There's an actual security response. Oh my gosh. I mean, its still ineffective, but wow. STAR Labs is gonna have security one hundred years from now. Finally.

Sorry, I think my sarcasm level may be extra high today, please bear with me.

The intruder escapes through a breach of some kind. And the camera closes in on the date the episode is set, which is foreshadowing the mold inspection going wrong, i guess.

It's weird that this is being sold to us as a mold inspection, though? The inspection certificate with the date on it is specifically having to do with the Department of Energy. Why they need a DOE inspection, I have no idea. Are they finally gonna use the pipeline to generate energy for the city or something?

I should just... watch, I guess.

Barry painting Nora's crib and getting all excited about being a dad is adorable. He's also super happy about getting Iris whatever food she may be craving, in this case ice cream. And then it turns out Iris tracked down a magazine that had once featured Henry Allen on the cover - science and medicine journal - and that's just so sweet of her. Barry has so little left from his parents after his mom's death and his dad's arrest...

This is West-Allen at it's best right here. Barry and Iris taking care of each other and showing how much they love each other. (Proof that when they work, they really work.)

Okay, so the mold inspection is because Barry is over-reacting to the whole wanting to make everything safe for Nora now, now, now. What a mold inspection has to do with the DOE is... *shrugs* I think I'm just gonna have to handwave this connection.

Apparently Khione is headed off to spend time with Carla, who wants to get to know this iteration of her daughter. Khione deserves to make family connections, so I hope this goes well. Carla messed things up with Caitlin, but did make inroads in fixing it, so hopefully she'll accept Khione for herself and get some catharsis over Caitlin and Frost's deaths. Khione is afraid of botching things, because she isn't Caitlin and not being Frost already made things go sour with Blaine. I wonder if we'll actually get to see their coffee meetup or if it'll just be discussed afterwards so we know it went okay.

Anyway, the mold inspector brings friends because asking for an inspection set off code alerts or whatever? I'm calling so much BS. That is not how things work. And since STAR Labs hasn't been operating as an active research lab, it doesn't really matter what else is or isn't up to code.

Bet Barry's regretting letting Chester have the day off now.

Iris shows up to join in the fun and rescue Barry from his bad decisions. And it's becoming more and more clear that these inspectors don't know what the hell they're doing. I mean, the electrician doesn't know what the breaker box is called?

At least Barry and Iris lampshade it.

And the temporal anomaly kicks in, herding everyone back to the speed lab repeatedly where a rather nice grandfather clock has appeared. Ticking loudly and ominously.

Barry - I can run to the future and find out how we fix this and then come back and... fix it. Iris - This seems like a bad idea. Barry - TIME TRAVEL!! What could go wrong? Iris - Everything, but whatever. Just bring me back a snack.

Barry once again jumps to time travel as the answer. *sigh* He never learns, does he?

So I want to like Allegra and Chester's date, but the jokes over scrabble feel forced. No one says 'za' instead of 'pizza'. Allegra's concerns about being found out as a meta are just kinda... not treated seriously before segueing into Chester rambling about how amazing Allegra is and how he's in love with her. Which freaks them both out. There isn't a second of that scene that isn't awkward or uncomfortable.

Back with the main plot, Barry uses the speed lab to get up to time traveling speed and some kind of wave changes Iris' outfit into this pretty blue dress with gold accents. She looks great. Barry's attempt to reach the future fails and watching him smack into a wall is hilarious.

Nice try, Barry. Fix this without cheating.

Looks like everyone else got new outfits too. Barry's is kinda Star Trek TNG/DS9/VOY era uniform looking, with a Flash symbol where the combadge would go. That had to be a deliberate choice. :D

And now Barry's been outed as the Flash to four new people. Secret identity made of swiss cheese.

At least the inspectors reactions are funny. Especially the guy who faints. And after some technobabling, we get the conclusion that one of the inspectors is the time traveling thief from the start of the episode.

My money is on the electrician, but she could also just be like me and sometimes just has words disappear from her vocabulary. I have definitely forgotten words I use every day before because my brain just blanks them out for a bit. But this is a tv show, so it seems more likely she's the culprit than the red herring.

Meanwhile, game day at Cecile's continues to be boring. This is the most awkward game of Catan I've ever seen.

Cecile - I'm gonna escape to the kitchen. Chester - No, actually you stay. I shall flee away, away.

Thankfully we're now back to the main plot and they're all speculating on who the time thief could be. Iris is having fun playing with the tech to clear everyone. And then one of the inspectors got replaced with a statue. Whoops. No closer to escaping yet, and the statue is one of those nude statues with the fig leaf.

Electrician is definitely the bad guy, she accuses Iris.

Inspector Dude #2 - Not Mrs. Flash!

lol, he's adorable.

Allegra's trauma flashbacks to Nash and Esperanza's death... *sniffle*

Show writers baiting me making me think that Cecile is gonna talk about her first marriage that failed... and then she doesn't. Hissss, I want back story, that's more interesting than the Allegra/Chester shilling.

Iris and Barry finally having that frank conversation they pretended to have in the first episode of the season is great. And I'm glad they're having Iris talk so frankly about how uncomfortable being pregnant is for her and how distressing it can be. She doesn't regret it, but the way it messes with her body and brain makes it tough on her in a way Barry can support her through, but not totally understand.

And their talk gives Barry the Eureka moment he needs to figure out who the time thief is.

Hehehe, Mrs. Flash, I love it every time he says that.

Barry - Blatantly making up bullshit about the electrical in the building. Electrician - Uhhhhh O_O I don't know enough to call bullshit because I'm not really an electrician.

Awww, two more inspectors down. :(

Lady Chronos... I can't get over her face. The makeup decisions were... interesting.

Barry - Oooh, I'm a lightning generator. I can power your belt. Lady Chronos - Working with the Flash. Ewwww.

Yay, resetting the time magnet reset the inspectors, this time with the real electrician. And the inspectors don't seem to remember what happened. Probably for the best they don't remember Barry's the Flash.

Khione - I could have told you there's no mold. Barry - ............ *expression says he feels dumb now*

So confirmation we don't get to see Carla and that Khione's coffee meetup with her went well. Carla managed to do what Blaine failed at, by wanting to get to know Khione for herself. Good job Carla.

At this point it seems like they're never gonna pick up on that plot thread with Carla gaining ice powers or her own frosty alter ego, which is a shame. But at least she's in the background trying to do right by Khione.

Allegra tracks down Chester to make things right. If nothing else, though I may not like their ship, I do hope the show will end with them happy.

Vibe-accinos. I'm so glad Cisco has a Jitter's drink. He deserves it.

The ending is more cute, domestic West-Allen.

While not the best episode of the season - either the heist episode with the Rogues or the previous episode focused on Iris and Nia are currently that for me - this was a solid and fun episode. It did much better with the temporal anomaly concept than the season opener and did a much better job of addressing Barry and Iris' different ways of dealing with their current circumstances, giving Iris room to voice her feelings without invalidating her or otherwise kicking the can down the road.

Since we're stuck with the Chester/Allegra ship, even though it's forced to the point of awkwardness at all times... Chester is adorable when he's happy. He's got such a lovely smile. And Allegra does deserve to have a relationship where she loves someone and not have it end with that person dying. I do like that the big loves of her life mentioned prior to Chester are all platonic/familial, making it clear that her non-romantic loves were just as important to her as her current romantic one.

The trailer for the next episode makes it look like the breather episodes are over and we're moving on to the final arc of the show. Bloodwork is back, as is Wally, Dig, Oliver, and the multi-verse.

Barry - *hugs Oliver* Oliver - I'm allergic to feelings, you're giving me hives. Stop it. Barry - *hugs more*

I'm guessing this final arc will have Khione come into her own as a hero? I mean, they haven't done anything that justifies killing Caitlin to create her yet, so they've gotta do that before the season ends. And this is a short season, right?

Finally... Barry's birthday was previously established as being in March, but now they're celebrating it in April from the looks of things in the trailer? *heavy sigh*