#there's a . finesse to the way he takes his gloves off that feels like it's a choreo of its own

[ahrabaki]

hhhh

[affableramen]

How they sleep with you (sfw)

 ━─━────༺༻────━─━

Wriothesley

he always comes to the bed after you and tries to move carefully in order to not wake you if you have already fallen asleep

he is a big spoon so he hugs you from behind really nice and comfy

usually very tired of late shifts at work so probably will be dead asleep the next few seconds. You’d pull the blanket over him ensuring he doesn't catch a cold. Oh, he loves when you take care of him :(

he gives out the best hugs and is actually very warm, like a big old wolf can be your personal blanket. Even though you would still wrap the both of you into the fuzzy blanket knowing that this silly man probably doesn't realise that the nights are getting longer and freezing

loves nuzzling into your hair, coz your scent makes him relaxed and he’ll likely have a good night sleep after a sniff of his significant other

Tartaglia

he is actually very sweet and gentle in the bed with you, especially before sleep when the both of you likely end up tired after work

removes his accessories, rings, gloves only to gently wrap his bare hands around you. tartaglia is a big spoon as well. he does not fail to amaze you with how smooth his hands feel against your arm compared to his finesse in a battlefield

loves warm temperature so makes sure both of you are wrapped in huge fuzzy blankets

loves a good mug of hot chocolate or honey herbal tea before sleep and will make you one too!

although loves being a boss aka big spoon, will die for you to lie on his chest <3

Neuvillette

being a small spoon he loves when you wrap your arms around his broad chest, he finds it very comfy and in a way, soothing

Neuvillette is extremely shy and solitary so he won’t usually ask you for something but sharing a nice cup of warm water before sleep with you is his guilty pleasure. There is just something super endearing about sharing his favourite drink intimately with you, under the moonlight and rain…

he takes big pleasure in being undressed by you, he just wants to feel you remove these formal indigo layers from his shoulders. will also let you personally remove his feather hair pin and unclip other accessories from his lavish outfit

even though his eyes look cold sometimes he ensures his significant other doesn't doubt his affection which is showing quite well in how he holds you in sleep

holds your hand in the sleep so tight as if afraid you will disappear the next day. Neuvillette enjoys your company more than he is going to admit. Hard on the outside - sweet inside, he almost innocently kisses your forehead and cheek before sleep so that you almost forget how stiff and rough this man is in court

Pantalone

sleep? doesn’t know him. This man has huge eyebags coz apparently he sleeps in the office… 

his face looks completely different without glasses and you cannot help but be in awe every night, seeing the perfect shape of his eyes clearly and slight hints of exhaustion after the whole CEO work

after having you help him inject insulin, he lets you take his gloves off, and even though he’s been sharing domestic pleasures with you for a while, still wary of showing his bare hands to you every time, coz he has an eczema he finds disgusting. will hum quietly while you spread a gentle cream over his hands as a skincare routine procedure before sleep

he is attached to you more than he initially planned to and it is showing in the way his hands “accidentally” graze yours or his eyes examine your sleepy face before he drifts off too. You’re left mesmerised at how this man, a heartless businessman, treats you so softly and dearly

is actually capable of comforting someone, so will do a great deal of comforting you if something about your mood seems off. He is not very sensitive to emotions but he understands you logically, judging by your body language, routine or the way you talk. Trust me, this man is the gentlest when it comes to your vulnerability, he will ensure 💯 that you feel safe and happy enough, so he will hug you SO tight in the sleep, in order to just soothe you 

Alhaitham

cannot let you fall asleep without night cuddles when he with his muscular chest loves pressing you into the sheets

even though he is grumpy about it, allows you dismantle his clothes. There is something endearing about touching his biceps and chest while you undress him 

Alhaitham loves when you sniff his hair and bury your face into it. He might possibly lay closer to you so that your nose bumps in his head or throat 

turns his relaxing lo-fi kind of music on so that you can enjoy it too and tune into sleep with him

he sleeps very quietly and peacefully but can wake up to a single noise. Be sure to hold him close and not wake him <3

Capitano

loves caressing your soft tummy when you’re in the bed with him

when it’s a cold night and even heating doesn't seem to help, you pull his toned body on top of yours so that he provides additional warmth and comfort. Capitano loves laying on top of you, but concerned he’ll be too heavy for you

he won't let you fall asleep without a night kiss, he’s so addicted to your lips that he just won't allow you go to bed without bringing that sweetest gentlest smooch to your lips

he goes to bed quite early which is understandable for a gentleman coded guy like him. If you are not sleepy and plan to play in your phone he won't have objections to it however. He will pull his blanket up his body and let you enjoy your stuff while he is attempting to sleep 

He is a tea drinker, so herbal tea before sleep is must have for him. One of his personal favourites is - camomile tea

Dottore

he is actually the sweetest when it comes to before sleep procedures. He loves doing domestic stuff with you a whole lot

night time is probably the only way for you to see his face coz he removes his mask. He’s afraid he might hurt you since you sleep wrapping your body around him while he buries his face into your neck from behind

he is very sensitive to your emotions so if you seem upset for the evening he will make jokes (even if unfunny or cringey) to ensure your mood is changed. He can't bare to see you frustrated and wants you to be as comfortable as possible, since you have already given him enough - like trust, patience and affection 

brushing or playing with your hair is his addiction before sleep. He is not exactly the tidiest person around but he loves touching your hair and he even says that you inspired him to take more care of his own

lots of talk talk meaningless talk about his theories before sleep because he loves sharing his personal opinions and ideas with you. He trusts you this much

Dainsleif

cold on the outside, becomes softer the longer you know him, this man being a tsundere king isn't very touchy with you, however during sleep he subconsciously tries to reach your hand, to feel your warmth

you love listening to his stories about his adventures and travels, his experience is sure long and enticing enough for you

is also a tea drinker before sleep. Just imagine pyjamas wearing Dainsleif in slippers as he waits for his tea to be ready

you love ruffling his blonde hair as the both of you lie down. Though he groans in dissatisfaction, subconsciously he loves it too but never admits it

this man loves sleeping only in his boxers so you are for sure going to feel the warmth of his body and smell his natural scent as he is pressed close to the sleepy you

Baizhu

he makes sure he folded every one of his working papers and sorted all medicine bags as he gets into the sheets with you

he is prone to feeling chronically cold, so he will pull you close to get some of your warmth for himself (that’s a bit yandere of him don’t you think)

Baizhu is very tidy and neat so one of your favourite things is touching his silky hair and his clean fingers as the both of you slowly drift away to sleep

he shares one trait with Pantalone - staring at his beloved one’s face until he completely falls asleep limp. He is addicted to you and your face as if your whole presence is some sort of a drug

anxious of discovering an empty bed. he holds you so close as if a single thought of you slipping off his fingers terrifies him. Will be really irritated if you two do not wake up simultaneously 

[haravath0t]

𝐀 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧-𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐬

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎, 𝚣𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒, 𝚊𝚢𝚊𝚝𝚘, 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚊

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 - 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝟹

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : ̗̀➛ meeting the in-laws during the holidays…how does that work? (genshin men x Filipino!reader)

☕🤍🌿 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗'𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 ! 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 ! ☕🤍🌿

₊˚.༄ 𝘯𝘦𝘶𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦

Oh, they’d love him.

The minute he walks through the door, his aura is undeniable. He’s practically the dream son-in-law any Filipino parent can ask for.

Taking off shoes at the front door? Check. A put together outfit? Check. Going up to your parents immediately to take their hand and doing the “mano”? Check. Your parents would eat it all up too! 

“Ayyy, wow! Mabait s’ya!” (Wow! He’s polite!) “Ang galing naman! Ay thank you, thank you!”

They would even notice that he took care of the refreshments too, it seems. By refreshments, we mean water bottles. Lots of it. It undeniably will be the brand that he likes the best. No, it is not the crystal geyser, no it’s not dasani, just a bunch of “flavored water with the best aftertaste.” (Don’t get your hopes up, it’s good ol’ mineral water.)

It’s all nice and all, but when he sits down? He may not look like it, but he’s a nervous wreck. “Is this alright?” “Perhaps I can say something. But what?” “Hmm, no, not that.” In truth, he’s amazed that he even landed on a beautiful partner, that is you, someone who has exercised so much patience and has taught him ways to express himself. However, to practice all he has learned from you in the face of other people, especially that it’s your parents? It is safe to say even the Iudex himself cannot help but feel queasy. 

He cannot bring himself to really start any conversation as much as he would like to, even the bustle of your family slowly trickling in cannot take away the unspoken worries he has. It is thanks to you holding his hand below the table that his worries ease even a little, as well as your inquisitive parents. 

The fact that your parents start off by asking questions eases Neuvillette, his posture as elegant as he looks, relax ever so slightly, something you notice by the slightest shift in his seat. The longer they talk to the quiet Iudex, the more your parents are comforted as well. Perhaps their daughter is in good hands, after all. 

“Please, do not worry. I shall swear to you that your daughter will live every day knowing how much she means to me.”

ᨒ ₊ ⊹ 𝘻𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪

Like Neuvillette, he’d have an aura that one cannot deny. It’s as though he carries himself with a quiet yet powerful sense of confidence, truly the definition of finesse as he steps in. It’s as though a higher power has stepped into the party. (hah!)

He was well-dressed, having his dress shirt with a nicely placed tie, some nice slacks, and a trench coat that only accentuates his lean visage. As always, his long brown hair was in a ponytail, and he came in with leather gloves. 

The way he takes off his shoes and the way he practically bows down to your parents to “mano” them is pretty second nature to him. “Greetings. Thank you for hosting this night for us.” He’d say, and his deep voice along with the gentle tone he uses amuses your parents and even your cousins. Sure they knew he was a good man for you to be married to, and sure they have heard him speak before, but to hear him and be within his vicinity is such a shocker to them!

The titas are fawning over him already, trying to lean closer to hear this man talk, even approaching so that way they can greet him as well. His smile was so kind, his amber eyes something no one can look away from, and his stature made him look much taller than he already is. 

In his hands were a container of dumplings that you and he had made together, a suggestion made by him to thank the hosts, your parents. “Ay! Thank you!” Your parents seemed more than pleased. It is when he takes off his gloves and holds your hand does your wedding rings shine in the light, a reminder to the family just who he was happily married to. 

They cannot help but talk about you both now, watching Zhongli catch up with your parents quietly, all the while his hand subconsciously places itself on the small of your back, letting you take a plate and dig into the various foods and desserts you would like. Though your parents have talked to Zhongli several times before on smaller visits, they still cannot help but feel some form of intimidation towards the man, feeling as though it was too good to be true. 

Your titas love him alright, but your titos? Oh, they envy him. Almost every man in that party does. They felt as though Zhongli needed to be eased in, and what better way than through drinks and games? Mayhaps mahjong? Oh, that’s where they had made a mistake. 

Zhongli refuses beer, settling on tea while he talks to the titos with ease, though he wouldn’t hesitate to give out his opinions on some topics, which undeniably tarnish some of the pride your titos came into this party with. The worst part? He’s winning the mahjong matches no matter how many times the titos or your guy cousins switch. The man at this point seems unshakeable! He didn’t show it, but he was getting a hoot out of it. 

However, even if it may be so, he’s always coming back to you. Even amidst the noise, his smile truly appears when you’re near. Your parents don’t miss how easily you two reciprocate, and they cannot help but feel relaxed. 

“Salamat sa diyos,” (“Thank god”) Your mom sighs, looking at your father. “She’s taken care of.”

₊˚.༄ 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘵𝘰

Unlike the previous husbands, Kamisato Ayato is an intimidating type. Rather than him being a bit nervous around your parents, it’s more of them being nervous around him. 

They immediately approved of your marriage with him, his name alone already ringing a bell to both your mom and dad. When he met them, asking their blessing in your marriage? Oh, they cannot help but become nervous. They tried to dress their best, you came in with an extra spotless looking household, and the biggest array of Filipino dishes you can even recall. Admittedly, it was a little too much, that you even got a bit annoyed of how they were putting much more effort into this than they should, but you had to just let Ayato be, letting him praise your parents in turn. 

When you called your parents to notify them that you two were coming to this year’s Christmas party, it was the same reaction. Even though Ayato does his best to reassure them that he’s just “your husband”, it seems to never be so. 

And so, he’s dressed in a simple yet elevated outfit: a light blue collared shirt, paired with a black tie and vest, and a long black trench coat. 

The kids loved him, of course, but you can see your parents practically curl up. He greeted your relatives and your parents with ease, amusing them each time he even spoke to you so lovingly. 

“My love, let’s grab something delicious to eat.” He’s heard saying to you with a smile, gently guiding you through the crowded house where the trays of food are lined up. 

Though many are in awe of the famed Kamisato, they are undeniably going to think of your comparability with the young man too. The titas talk to your parents, and it’s a whole round table in itself. 

“Ang pangit ng damit ng anak mo!” (“Your daughter’s clothes look ugly”) A Tita whispers to your mother. “Lalo na sa tabi n’ya.” (“Especially next to him.”)

“Couldn’t your daughter have a better job?” “I feel like this is some joke.” “He could leave her one day, watch…let’s see if she can keep her act together.”

Your ears catch it pretty quickly, the women talking so loud. Undeniably it hurts your mother, but she lets them talk, trying to toughen it out. Ayato is quick to notice your concern. 

“Hey,” Ayato chuckles from behind, kissing your temple. “Why don’t you find us a seat? I’ll get us your favorite drink, hm?” His voice, as always, was so sweet, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Fine, fine,” you sigh. “I’ll be in the living room.” Ayato can only smile and look at you with loving eyes. “Good girl.”

And so, you opt to find a cozy seat on the couch in the other room, somewhere by the corner and by the window. Ayato was going to get your drinks from the freezer, yes, but also to make a quick stop. 

“Ahh,” Ayato chuckles, standing beside the circle of titas and your own mother. Immediately the chatter dies down, and he practically commands the flow of the topic, all the while he holds onto your drinks. “I don’t want to be so intruding, but I cannot help but overhear what you all are talking about!” It is only then that the titas start to feel a tinge of guilt, and Ayato stops them before they even come up with an excuse.  

“Why, if I may add my own contribution, I’d like to offer that before you begin to judge what my wife and I have with one another, that you all consider just what type of people you all are that makes you all so capable of passing judgment, hm? You won’t tarnish my impression of my wife, but you are tarnishing my impression towards you all.”

₊˚.༄ 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘢

Oh, your parents had their doubts when they met Childe. They couldn’t help but wonder if he was a bad influence or not, but they decided that they can’t really sway you to reconsider or to think about it a bit more. So alas, when you and your husband come in for the Christmas party, Childe, or rather, Ajax, was already having a happy face. 

He looked so cozy in your eyes, dawning a red crew neck sweater with gray pants, all put together with a black belt and a beige coat. No doubt he was handsome, and yet the elders can only stare at this rather loud and rambunctious man that was your husband. 

Your parents greet him, but he hugs them! It’s quite a shocker to them, but they couldn’t deny, his charisma was something that had them soften up. “If you don’t mind, I also brought along someone else!” He says to your parents, and before they can question him, out peeps a smaller boy behind his legs, someone who looked similar to Ajax. He had the same red hair and blue eyes, the same freckles, and your parents’ eyes went wide. 

Was this his kid? Your stepson? But the questions were immediately answered when your husband spoke: “This is Teucer! My little brother! He has been missing us, so I figured he can come along!” 

This made your parents second guess their previous view of Ajax. Did he really speak so highly of you and your parents that he trusted his little brother to come along? Yes, yes he did. The implication alone made them smile. Maybe they needed to rethink this. 

“No, it’s okay! Come, go eat na! There’s so much food!” Your mother beckons to Teucer, leaving you and him alone. He’s very affectionate with you, and openly so, that it makes your parents blush. They watch you two settle, watch Ajax sit you down on his lap while he feeds you food from a plate you two are sharing, all while Teucer fights his older brother to snuggle up to you. 

That’s only temporary, though, especially when the little boy gets whisked away by your own young nieces and nephews, causing the kids to be even louder than usual. Still, this gets your father and mother to talk to him. 

“So Ajax…” They start asking him questions one by one, and each makes them slowly relax. He’s ticking all the requirements: he’s making a steady income, you and him are getting along fine, and that you’re also being well received by his own family. 

But then comes a dreaded distraction: a yelling noise from a chorus of men that was your Tito’s. And Ajax’s head snaps in curiosity. “Oh, don’t mind them,” your father waves dismissively. “Pacquiao is fighting tonight.” It was then you see Ajax’s eyes widen. “Wait. Like the boxer?!” “YES!”

Your father did an immediate 180 if he hadn’t already. For all you know, Ajax wasn’t yours any longer, for he was already given a bottle of beer and within the crowd of various Tito’s, seeing him mimic punches as though Pacquiao himself was being coached by this man. 

Your mother couldn’t help but laugh with you, seeing the Tito’s and a now buzzed Ajax talk amongst themselves as though they have known each other as long as you and him have. 

“You know, anak?” Your mother starts, looking over at the sight of all these men gathered around the TV while your husband screams alongside your mother’s husband. “You were right. You married a good guy, a good family oriented guy. I like it.”

[darkjanet2]

Sonic Adventure 2: Sonadow

Chapter 29: Happy Ending

2 weeks later, Sonic was training at his home. He was running on the treadmill, his circulation was pumping, and he was sweating profusely. His breath was heavy, and the sweat on his face dripped down to his chest. His condition had improved immensely. His endurance was greatly boosted, his stamina was increasing, and he could run faster and farther, jump higher, fight better, and move faster. He was starting to gain muscle mass. His body was growing stronger. This improvement brought him a lot of happiness and satisfaction.

When he finished, he turned off the treadmill, stepped off of it, and stretched his muscles. His arms moved and flexed a few times.

"Man, that's a good workout!" Sonic exclaimed happily. He drank a Prime Hydrating Drink, which was flavored blue raspberry. He grabbed the towel to wipe the sweat off his face. He walked over to the bathroom and took a hot shower running through his body. As he exited the shower, he dried himself off with the towel and put on some clean gloves, socks, and shoes. He walked downstairs to the living room as he sat on the couch. He picked up the phone and texted Shadow: "Hey Shadz! Ready to go to the Shangri La Hotel? I'm ready whenever you are!"

Shadow replied quickly, "Sure thing. I'll pick you up in 20 minutes."

Sonic grinned as he went upstairs to get his suitcase and some clothes to wear. Shortly after, he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door, and Shadow entered.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"You bet!" smiled Sonic.

Shadow took out his green Chaos Emerald and shouted, "Chaos Control!"

The experience of teleporting to the entrance of Shangri La Hotel was nothing short of extraordinary. The guests were instantly captivated by the grandeur and opulence that awaited them inside. As they walked into the hotel, they were greeted by a sight that left them in awe. The hotel's walls were adorned with an elegant damask design in gold and navy blue. The intricate patterns added a touch of regality to the surroundings, further enhancing the overall ambiance of the hotel. The checkered floors were white and sapphire.

They could see the receptionist's desk at the far end as they made their way across the lobby. The receptionist, a friendly-looking woman with a bright smile, greeted them as they approached.

"Hello, welcome to Shangri-La Hotel. How may I assist you?" she asked in a warm tone.

“We’d like to get a deluxe bedroom for one night,” said Shadow.

“Sure, I'd be happy to help you get a deluxe room. We have a king-sized bed in here and a breathtaking view of the city skyline right outside the window,” said the receptionist lady.

“Cool, we’ll take it,” said Sonic as he paid her with cash. And the receptionist lady gave them a key to the room.

"Your room number is 1120,” she smiled and said, "Please make yourself comfortable."

“Thank you,” said Sonic as the two hedgehogs stepped into the elevator, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The doors slid shut with a soft whoosh, enclosing them in a small metallic chamber.

As the elevator hummed gently, Sonic turned to his lover and said, "Thank you for taking me there, Shadow. I have a feeling that something incredible awaits us up there."

Shadow smiled warmly, “No problem at all, Sonic.”

As the doors slid open smoothly, revealing a breathtaking sight that left both hedgehogs speechless, Sonic and Shadow couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement and curiosity. Before them stood an expansive room, bathed in vibrant colors and pulsating with energy. It was as if they had stepped into a portal, transporting them to another dimension entirely.

Eager to explore, they ventured further into the room and came across room 1120. Shadow swiftly unlocked the door, and as it swung open, it revealed a sight that added to their amazement. The room was decorated with elegance and finesse, boasting a king-sized bed, a sleek desk, and a small yet fully equipped kitchenette.

The desk itself was a work of art, intricately designed with delicate vines that seemed to come alive as they wrapped around its surface. The beauty and attention to detail mesmerized both Sonic and Shadow. A large, ornate mirror adorned one of the walls, mysteriously covered in a red velvet cloth.

Intrigued, Sonic approached the mirror and tentatively lifted the velvet cloth. The mirror sparkled, reflecting their astonished expressions. It held a hint of mystery as if it held the answers to untold secrets. The allure was irresistible, urging them to solve its enigma. On the dresser nearby, they noticed a sleek Smart TV, accompanied by a remote control, a notepad, and a pen. It seemed as though every detail within the room was meticulously chosen to enhance their experience.

"It's beautiful," Sonic whispered, his voice filled with wonderment.

Shadow nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on the mirror. "This place holds an otherworldly charm, Sonic. I can't help but feel that there's more to discover."

As they settled into their newfound sanctuary, Sonic and Shadow couldn't help but wonder what extraordinary adventures awaited them, sparked by the magic and secrets hidden within this room. Little did they know, this was just the beginning of an epic journey beyond their wildest imaginations.

With a sigh of relief, Sonic flopped down onto his bed, letting his tired body sink into the soft mattress. His mind wandered back to the days when he was just a curious little hedgehog, always on the lookout for adventure. He remembered how he discovered his incredible speed and the thrill it brought him.

“This bed is so cozy, it's like being wrapped in a cloud,” said Sonic as he snuggled on the pillow.

Shadow smirked as he lay down on the bed, he sank into the softness, feeling the warmth envelop his body. The smooth, silky sheets caress his skin as if they were made just for him. The pillows were like heavenly marshmallows, perfectly plump and supportive. It was as if he was being cradled in a cocoon of comfort.

“Oh, yeah, that feels good,” said Shadow, he relaxed his body into the plush mattress.

Sonic smiled as he leaned forward to kiss Shadow’s lips, their lips met in a tender and unexpected kiss, igniting a fierce spark within them. It was like an explosion of electricity coursing through their bodies, igniting a connection that had always been simmering beneath the surface.

Each touch, each caress, only fueling the fire that burned within them. They reluctantly broke the kiss, their eyes locked, filled with a newfound sense of love. It was not a declaration of love but an acknowledgment of a bond that transcended their rivalry. Sonic and Shadow's relationship would forever be marked by that single stolen moment.

Later that night, Shadow sat alone in the dimly lit room, his eyes fixed intensely on the television screen. He was watching Hitman: Agent 47 but his mind was only half-focused on the film's unfolding action. The movie's protagonist, a skilled assassin, moved with a precision that Shadow couldn't help but admire. Yet, there was a distant look in Shadow's eyes, as if the flickering images were a mere backdrop to a deeper, more pressing contemplation.

The door was heard open, Sonic came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his blue fur damp with hot steaming water droplets that reflected the light, giving him an almost sparkling appearance. His normally spiky quills lay flat and slicked back from the water, a rare sight that showcased a different side of the usually energetic hedgehog.

Shaking off the last few droplets, he grabbed a comb from the counter and began to work through his quills, setting them back into their iconic windswept style. The mirror reflected a focused determination in his emerald-green eyes, he looked perfect.

He turned toward Shadow, who was lying on the bed, his eyes reflecting a quiet anticipation. Gently discarding the damp towel that had been wrapped around his waist, he crawled across the cool sheets, the air charged with the intimacy of the approaching moment. He pulled Shadow into his embrace and kissed him passionately, his hands threading through his quill as if trying to memorize the feel of him.

Shadow playfully darted his tongue, engaging in a mischievous dance with the azure hedgehog's mouth, and let out a moan from his mouth. Shadow's hands tentatively cupped Sonic's face, drawing him closer with a careful, almost reverent touch. Their lips met in a hesitant embrace, a silent question that Sonic answered by deepening the kiss. Their tongues entwined a delicate exploration that soon grew bolder. A low moan vibrated from Shadow's throat, resonating with the newfound intensity of their connection.

He moved with deliberate grace, his lips finding their way to the soft, azure fur of Sonic's neck. The touch was gentle, a crimson contrast against the bright blue that defined his rival. As Shadow kissed his neck, a tranquil sigh escaped Sonic’s lips, a sound that spoke of trust and a bond that had deepened beyond the fiery clashes of their past.

As their kiss deepened, Shadow's hands slid lower and brushed against Sonic's tail. It was a sensitive spot for Sonic and he let out a soft moan at the touch. Shadow took this as encouragement and continued to stroke and tease the tail, earning more moans from Sonic.

Their bodies pressed closer together as they explored each other's mouths with an increasing hunger. Sonic could feel the heat building between them, his heart racing with desire. He had never felt so alive, so connected to someone before.

He wanted more, needed more, and it was making him crazy. But most importantly, he wanted Shadow. Sonic gently nipped at Shadow's ear lobe as he bit his lip, causing the latter to gasp, “Mmmm, ohhh.” He then slowly trailed kisses down his jawline towards his collarbone, where he nibbled gently.

Sonic crawled down the rest of the bed until he was lying on top of Shadow, straddling him. Slowly lowering himself, he rested his weight on one leg as he positioned himself above Shadow, leaning over him with his hands supporting his upper body. Shadow's eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head back in surrender, granting Sonic complete access to his neck.

He stroked his manhood gently with his hand, causing Shadow to release a soft moan as he arched upward slightly. Suddenly, Sonic stopped and stared into Shadow's eyes, his crimson irises dilated with lust and want. He began to suck his hard member to his mouth slowly and rhythmically, taking his time to savor the taste of the male on his tongue.

"Ahhh...," Shadow moaned again, his body shaking slightly with passion.

Sonic sucked harder, his fingers brushing against Shadow's clothed cock. His breath quickened at the thought of his quills teasing and playing around with Shadow's length. Sonic spat onto his shaft, the saliva glistening in the candlelight as he took the head of his penis in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the tip, causing Shadow to let out another soft moan of ecstasy and excitement.

His hand traveled up along Shadow's cock as he continued to suck hungrily on the shaft. Sonic ran his free hand along Shadow's torso slowly, feeling his muscles flexing with delight at his touch. Finally, he reached the base of his cock, running his fingers along the smooth skin and pulling gently. He lightly nipped at the flesh, eliciting a grunt of pleasure.

When he had enough sucking, Sonic lifted his head from Shadow's shaft and gazed deeply into his crimson eyes, a playful smile dancing upon his lips.

"You're going to have to put yourself out there for me tonight,” he whispered, “I'm getting wetter and hotter every passing second."

Shadow swallowed hard, the words spoken by Sonic sent chills down his spine and caused his heart to pound wildly within his chest. He gently stroked his cock and lifted himself to position himself above Shadow, positioning himself between his legs. He slowly pushed himself into his entrance, moaning softly as the heat began to radiate throughout his body. His cock slid easily inside of Sonic, his eyes closing at the sensation of finally fitting themselves together, the warm liquid surrounding them, creating a pleasant friction.

"You're gonna make my toes curl," breathed Shadow in bliss, his head thrown back as he reveled in the euphoria.

Sonic laughed softly as he continued thrusting his hips, his eyes now closed in bliss as well. He gripped Shadow's muscular chest tightly in an attempt to ground himself. After a few moments, his thrusts became quicker and harder. As he began to move his hips frantically, his movements quickly grew faster and harder. His body trembled violently underneath Shadow. He placed his hands on Sonic's hips and dug his fingers into his buttocks, trying to steady him as he pumped in and out of his boyfriend. Shadow felt himself growing close as he held onto Sonic tightly, his body becoming tense as the pleasure grew stronger.

"Hnnh...," grunted out Shadow, the sound coming from between clenched teeth.

"Ahh... fuck!" moaned Sonic, his eyes tightly shut, his breathing rapidly escalating as he fought the waves of arousal crashing inside of him.

Sonic took Shadow's hands entwined with his as he continued bouncing his hips furiously and moaning loudly. Sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped down his face as intense waves of pleasure crashed through his system. Shadow flipped the blue hedgehog over, holding both sides of his hips as he started thrusting into Sonic roughly causing him to moan in pleasure, his quills ruffling in the air. Shadow leaned forward, his lips colliding forcefully with Sonic's, tasting the salty tang of the sweat from his heated face.

Their mouths moved feverishly together, the passion of their kiss growing with every thrust. They made passionate love as the fire burned between them. He felt Sonic's passage tighten around his cock causing a wave of dizzy ecstasy to wash over him. He could feel his orgasm starting to build, he knew this was exactly what he needed. He needed it to be even greater than it ever had been before, he just needed it! Needed it! Needed it!

"Aaah....! Sonic... I'm gonna cum!" Shadow yelled.

"Cum inside me," said Sonic hoarsely, panting heavily.

With a deep grunt, Shadow shot his seed inside Sonic, his whole body shuddering uncontrollably and his back arching upwards. Sonic gave a moan, his quills shooting up as he came hard into the other's stomach. Both of them collapsed onto the mattress, exhausted from their passion. They lay tangled together, chests heaving as they attempted to catch their breaths. Sonic's arms snaked around Shadow's waist, his fingers tracing small, tantalizing circles on his fur.

A few seconds later, Shadow lifted his head to look at Sonic, his eyes were closed and his cheeks flushed with adoration, his chest was rising up and down as he caught his breath.

"Are you okay?" asked Shadow.

Sonic opened his eyes, his emerald orbs glistening with affection. "Yeah... Just give me a minute to recover, I guess."

Shadow got off of Sonic as he turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. With a small smirk, he wrapped an arm around Sonic's waist and pulled him close. Sonic giggled lightly at the gesture before pressing his face against Shadow’s chest, enjoying the warmth emanating from the dark hedgehog. The scent of cinnamon filled the room, a pleasant aroma that calmed his nerves and rejuvenated his energy.

"Hmm... that was awesome," said Sonic, giving a content sigh as he tightened his grip around Shadow’s midsection.

"Indeed," said Shadow with a chuckle, wrapping both arms around his lover to pull him closer.

Sonic looked up at him, gazing into his red irises. A smile spread across his lips. "You know, Shadow..." he whispered as he looked into Shadow’s gaze.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I love you," said Sonic.

"I love you, too, Sonic," said Shadow, resting a tender kiss on his head. And with that said, their lips finally joined together, their bodies still intertwined with each other as their hearts beat fast, full of passion.

THE END

[new-poets-society]

The Lion is a Doctor

I’m up way past my bedtime

pacing the halls, 

rushing like good blood pressure. 

The house is empty, yet the sound of me echoes in the ears of loved ones

no matter where they lay their heads. 

I understand. It’s hard to tell if blood is spilling or boiling, or pumping, 

But not to worry--

I can trust myself tonight.

Therefore, I have the authority to flamboyantly waltz around my home, 

A place so alive it feels like a friend,

And spend an evening living without wondering who or what I’m killing. 

  I’m headed to the heart of the Lion 

Specifically, his wardrobe. 

The lion is a doctor, 

and the doctor is not in. 

I rummage with delicacy and delight,

Admiring every textile.

I shall wear whichever torn up tee-shirt I desire,

 It is an honor to don the fluffy robes of a king. 

cloaked in soft armor, 

I dance flamboyantly 

in well-worn slippers

I will never fit. 

I feel small in the best way, 

Like a child 

excited to see how much they’ll grow in one year. 

  My mother let me wear her clogs back when I had the smallest of feet. 

They, too, did not fit. 

The space between my toes and the wood only stood to remind me that at any moment those shoes could come off, 

if they didn’t, they’d threaten to for the duration. 

Every step required grip,

 I kept those clogs on my feet with all the bones and toes I had.

It felt free and wicked 

to kick off that hollowness. 

Let the clogs fall where they may.

  Heavy is the head who wears the crown of Tie inspector,

and I take my job seriously.

 I meticulously examine each one,

naturally fragrant with childhood, 

Memories of young, chaotic mornings woven into silk. 

Silky threads made of a fond routine I always found beautiful and complicated. 

The Lion looped the silk swiftly and seamlessly and frequently

he didn't have time to notice the miracle in the minutia.

30 years on I count their silky crests like a four star General.

I need to make sure everyone is still here,

still intact.

  I spend the remainder of the ritual picking through the Lion’s wardrobe, 

mining for colorful cashmere sweaters.

I tried them on in a cautious frenzy,

with zero intent to return them. 

The layer cake of trial and error reminded me of rainy middle school days. 

When it rained the Lion roared and ordered his cubs to put on a sweater, 

a jacket, boots, gloves, and a cowboy hat.

But what about our hair, Dad?

He braided our manes flawlessly under those cowboy hats 

with tact and finesse we could’ve sworn we were Cleopatra, or Joan of Arc.

We were too small for our armor, sure,

But we knew we’d grow into it. 

In those moments, I didn’t drown in the emptiness of the clogs,

(Not unless I put them on).

The Doctor’s armor is heavy,

The heaviness inspired me 

to grow strong enough 

to carry the weight of battle 

with poise

To wield weapons to protect,

to never forget 

all swords are double edged,

and enemy fire and friendly fire are distinguished

only by which side of the frontline you’re on,

and what you’re fighting for.

  The heart of the Lion was big enough for 10 men..

How did he become so vast? 

The lion’s daughter was almost too busy growing herself

to contemplate the Lion as a man. 

What did the Lion have to do in order to become? 

Who did he have to fight to evolve? 

Which kingdom did he defeat 

to claim such vast internal territory? 

What did he have to survive to keep it? 

Vastness of the soul comes at a cost.

 Is he aware? 

Does he feel that way, too? 

Heavy is the head that wears the scrub cap, 

The cowboy hat, 

The tuxedo,

The tie, 

The torn-up tee-shirt, 

The big slippers, 

The robe. 

 Powerful are the hands

that slice and sew strangers just as beautifully as they braid their baby girls’ hair,

that tie ties,

and bows,

and pack lunchboxes, 

and lay out multivitamins like loose diamonds.

Whatever it took to get here was worth it. 

  The unwitnessed waltz of the wild child is sacred when performed correctly. 

It must poignantly convey the whimsy of childhood 

and punctuate one’s distance from it.

 It should be so comforting that you make room to be confounded---

 this is a delicacy in my culture. 

The discomfort is just as delicious as its saccharine counterpart. 

Tonight, I revisit the inkling I intuited while wrapped in rain gear— 

There is so much more to the Lion than I will ever know. 

The slippers are still too big! 

Will I ever know what it feels like to fit?

 Let alone, fit into these slippers? 

To know exactly how they feel? 

  The answer is of course not, And the Lion wouldn’t have it any other way.

 If I am to become a Lion, I have to survive like one. 

I have to fight for my life especially when I don’t want to.

I have to make room for blissful moments only found in the minutia 

or else, let my soul starve.

 If I don’t learn to hunt and gather my dreams

I won’t know what it takes to keep them,

I won’t know how to make the room necessary

to become, 

to begin,

to be a person I’m proud of,

to remain a person I can trust with my life.

  Tonight, I do not have the answers.  

Wouldn’t I like to know, Dad! 

It would be ungodly of me to ask you.

But I will anyways, 

Just so we can talk a little longer. 

God Bless the Lion man and the parts of his journey I will never know. 

Author: Alexandra Wolf

March 2023

www.alliewolf.com 

[mythvoiced]

'you're kind of beautiful,' amwlia says to doe, big eye blinking, tone lacking confrontation or mocking undertones. just sincerity.

@astremourante | i'm so normal about this, i-

---

Below the carefully painted layer of make-up covering the scars on his forearms and the back of his hands, beneath the colour plastered below his lashes to eliminate the truth of the size of the bags growing under his eyes, underneath the casual-chic suits and form-fitting fabrics, Doe is only truly naked if undressed gently.

If you rip at his tie or slap the occasional gloves off his wrists or nearly rip his hair off his scalp and his head off his shoulders, all you have in your hands is a thoroughly startled fox, snarling in warning as it prepares to maul your face off your bones.

Violence and him agree well enough, the violent goddess haunting his waking nightmare of a life and living with his memories, the one with the thorns for fingers always wrapped into his throat, she adores his plight, bears it to the harshest lights and laughs along with his hysteria.

He's not used to alternatives.

Mostly because he doesn't allow himself the chance to get a taste for it.

It's much better to remain ignorant to feather-light touches and soft gazes than learn what sets them apart from the devouring and the cackling.

Lately he hasn't been able to figure out where Amelia's thoughts of him fit on that scale. She's proven before that she could devour him faster than he could file his teeth to take a bite of her. He doesn't think she's been in the game longer than him, but it's clear even without the wide-eyed focus of the stare he fixes on her, even without wondering, that whatever game she'd been shoved into is not the same he plays.

He plays for survival, he scratches with neither training nor finesse and he never lashes out to kill. He tries to scare to keep himself save. He's the refugee hiding in the debris of his adult self, swinging a knife he doesn't know how to use.

In contrast, Amelia is the child soldier he should shield himself from. Moving and being a certain way come more natural to her than him because he doesn't need to be anything other than unpleasant. All the other pretenses were learnt later in life.

She's older than him, in a way.

Wiser.

The way an amputee is wiser than a man complaining about a tennis elbow.

So when she doesn't do anything for the sake of something else, he's as lost at sea in an ocean of storms and threats as he is when hearing the compliments.

Suspicion and disbelief battle with inhuman growls and screeches, both desperate to beat the other as they fail to realise how deeply intertwined they are.

Threatening, suddenly, more than any of her other words have ever been.

He's let her too close.

She's halfway across the room and he feels like she has a tighter grip around his throat than if she actually threw herself across and grabbed it.

A doe caught in the headlights. Stuck in the face of impending doom, is this what it was born to die by? A creature of nature thrust into civilisation without the cognitive functions of typical human deformity to understand a car is a car and it will hurt?

What does it matter?

The doe fears anything and everything anyway. Wouldn't it be a mercy to die by something that at least doesn't growl as it slams into it?

He blinks, his gaze jumps as though he just recalled he has a body to run, to offer to the world as a sign he might actually exist, against his better judgement. It flickers, drops, cuts back to her bigger eyes.

He can't read her when she isn't spoon-feeding him what he's supposed to think of her.

That was the deal.

Or at least the one-sided one he cut, where he'd tell himself he only reacts because she wants him to play along.

Or whatever he'd told himself.

He looks away and shakes his numbed hand - the left arm always loses touch first - gaze grasping for something invisible.

He could play this one way.

Or he could...

" ... Thank you..." the frown he shoots at her looks like a question mark he isn't voicing, doubting if this is the right move.

"I... the way you smile when-" the air stops in his throat mid-way through the sentence. He's giving an arm when she's given him a finger, but it's faster. The urge to actually get there, meet her halfway for this as though some part of him has been yearning for a new direction to take this in.

He clears his throat and shakes his head, as though to clear it of the whatever infecting his brain. "You have a pleasant smile... sometimes," he settles on. And calls it a day.

[its-deputy-caleb]

How would the Lord’s be with a s/o who’s short like 5’0 but they’re super sweet but can be feisty

Heyy so i’ve been sick recently so this may not be as good as always and it’s a little rushed but i hope it’s not too bad! but this was still always enjoyable to write as always! enjoy

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina is lecturing one of the maidens for leaving one of the windows open when she feels something tapping on her leg.

Her eyebrow raises when she finds you tugging on the fabric of her dress, your hands covered in blood.

She picks you up by the back of your shirt as you give her the brightest but cheekiest smile.

“Now what have you been up to in these castle walls that has led you to put blood all over my dress.”

Your legs dangle in the air as you explain that you’ve spend the last four hours running around in the cellars and dungeons trying to find hidden trinkets. You didn’t anticipate to run into an array of grim reaper type creatures but you never turned down a challenge.

“My my, it seems you have been busy.”

Alcina throws you over her shoulder and carries you into her private quarters before she practically dumps you in the bath that swallows you.

“You, my dear are not coming to dinner looking like that.”

She’s seated on the edge of the tub, gloves removed as she rubs her expensive rose scented shampoo in your hair. For a moment it’s quite peaceful.

You’re ever the troublemaker and considering Alcina’s dress was already dirty you couldn’t help but splash water on her.

She grasps but plays into your cheeky ways and splashes you back just as playfully until you’re both soapy and covered in water.

You both dress for dinner with Alcina insisting you wear some of your more finer clothes but you still manage to pull some buttons loose here and there.

Although you’re a wild one, bouncing down the hallway and nearly knocking over one of Alcina’s fine porcelain vases, you still take her hand in yours and walk proudly into the dinner room with your lady.

You take your place at the dining table next to Alcina, your chair significantly higher to sit comfortably but she definitely pampered you with some of the finest cushions to boost you up.

Still you can’t help but feel happy and full of joy to see your family and that only lifts your mood further.

Donna Beneviento

Donna walks into the lounge room to find you chasing angie around, trying to get to her from behind the couch.

“You’ll never take me alive!!”

You’re just as crazy and rambunctious as Angie, the two of you instantly getting along. Donna smiles when she finds that Angie finally found a friend and she’s thrilled that Angie is taken with you.

“Will you two calm down before you break something!”

The two of you stop to stare at Donna who is holding a porcelain doll in her hands to stop it from being broken as you practically jump around the room.

But somehow through all your wildness you have a soft spot for Donna. Slowing your movements and walking up to her, you wrap your arms around her neck and hide your head under her chin.

“I’m sorry Dons, will you come exploring with Angie and I in the mountains??”

With you and Angie on either side of Donna, the three of you spend your afternoon exploring the caves near the waterfall.

Jumping over pools of rocks and mini cliffs, you always go first holding your hand out to Donna each time so she can hold onto while she jumps.

You’re always there to catch her too. It’s a little hard when you’re smaller than her but you’d never let her fall.

Eventually you come to an opening in one of the caves. The view is spectacular, with the waterfall cascading down and catching the fading light beautifully.

Your hand is in Donna’s gently rubbing your thumb on the back of her hand. However in a split second Angie comes up and surprises her with a loud BOO.

Donna’s surprised shriek rings in the cave she thinks she’s going to fall from the height of the cave, Angie’s creepy laughter eventually drowns it out.

You wrap your arms around her, keeping a calm but gentle hand on the back of her head to steady her.

“It’s alright, I gotcha now”

You hug Donna tightly, death glaring Angie behind her shoulder. When you pull away, you take Donna’s face and cradle it gently in your hands.

“Common, lets go home I could do with a nice warm cup of tea to go with a good book.”

Even though Donna was less adventurous as you were, she always enjoyed running around with you and Angie but you always spoiled her afterwards with a warm night in under blankets and warm tea while you read to her.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore was walking around the windmill trying to find you when he’s interrupted by a rather loud noise.

“HEY SAL GUESS WHO’S FINALLY TALLER THAN U??”

He audibly grasps when he sees you sitting on the wooden sail of windmill, smiling down on him.

You jump down and land in front of him, giggling at the small scream that leaves him. Stepping forward and into his space you place a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s me!!”

You take Salvatore’s hand in your own and lead him to explore all the nooks and crannies of the windmill with him.

Eventually you run off from him and hide behind one of the wooden crates stacked in the corner.

Poor Salvatore is confused by where you’ve gone trying to find you frantically as he runs around looking for you. You had the advantage however, being small had its perks sometimes.

When he’s not looking you run up and jump him from behind, your hands wrapping around his neck as you cling to him.

His laugh bounces off the valley and he spins around with you in a piggyback. One of your favourite things is making him laugh.

You spend the next few hours playing what is basically hide and seek as you run around all through the windmills, reservoir and mines doing your best to stay clear of any lycans.

You’re a wild card in Salvatore’s otherwise quiet life, but he loves you nonetheless. But you don’t miss the way his hand clings to yours in a death grip.

However, sometimes you’re a little too wild for his comfort zone and he definitely refused to do the zip line with you. But he cheered for you from his place on the ground because he never wants you to change the way you are. To him, you’re perfect.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl is always used to strange noises and loud bangs within the factory, but after living there for as long as he had; he can always tell when somethings out of place.

A rather large crash rings throughout the halls of the factory and Karl begrudgingly puts out his cigar, hoping that one of the Soldats hadn’t broken any of his equipment.

When he walks into a smelting room he finds you on the floor with metal boxes all over you and you buried under the toppled over shelf.

Karl flicks his wrist and all the metal moves to the corner of the room to reveal you huffing your hair out of your face.

You were looking for a mould to craft a new dagger with, sorting through the assortment of boxes when it all came falling down on top of you.

Karl moves his wrist once more, moving the mould you were looking for to his hand, a smug look on his face. He knew. For the last few weeks he’d seen you eyeing out that mould when you came to sit with him while he worked.

“Looking for something?”

You stand to your feet and try to snatch it out of his hand. Karl sees you coming from a mile away and holds it above your head, he doesn’t even need to use his powers for this one, his arm will do just fine.

He’s cocky and can’t help but torment the thing over your head like a child but in an instant you have him tackled to the ground. Now that one he didn’t see coming.

“Don’t think for a moment Heisenberg that just because I’m small that i couldn’t totally kick your ass if i needed to.”

Now you’re the one to be cocky as Karl stares in awe up at you, it took a lot of strength and maybe a hint of luck to bring down someone as powerful as him.

Eventually you let him up from his kindly uncomfortable position on the floor, his back strained against the metal grates. You totally don’t threaten to throw him at Alcina’s doorstep if he doesn’t make that new dagger for you.

Karl loved that about you, how feisty and wild you could be. It meant you were a great training partner and both of you either trained together often. Being small had its too. One thing Karl lacked was finesse and you were much more agile and skilled in your movements.

Other times you’d help Karl out in the factory by lifting boxes of scrap metal or even welding some of the weapons. He absolutely loved that about you, how he could easily be comfortable with you and his heart swelled when he could teach you all that he knew about metal. For the first time in a long time it felt like someone was on his side.

One day Karl saw you take a Soldat out with your new dagger and to say that it didn’t scare the shit out of him would be a fucking lie. Soldats were taller than him for christ sake.

Karl loved you though. He loved how fierce you were but you had the heart of gold and to him, you were this perfect little being that made his heart beat twice as fast when he was with you.

He loved that you could hold your own and would stand up to anyone but in the closed doors of the factory he got to see a softer more tender side of you filled with tender kisses and tight hugs.

[filthyopmusings]

by... surprisingly popular demand (by which I mean more than one person actually told me to write it lol), some short BugHawkCroc smut thanks to that 1056 Cross Guild reveal

(featuring trans!croc because I believe that’s just canon)

“This is an alliance. I don’t work for you.”

“Sure,” Buggy drawled, leaning back in the pompous chair he’d made his underlings carry to the Big Top. “And who’s the Emperor here?”

Crocodile scowled, still unhappy about the way the newspapers had framed what happened. Technically, they weren’t wrong, it had been Buggy who’d disabled the marines’ new marvel of a weapon and turned it on them, but that had been pure, dumb luck. All three of them knew it.

Hoping for support, Crocodile turned his gaze to Hawkeye, who was staring back at him with the same intense gaze he always wore.

Crocodile had always hated it during warlord meetings. Just like the smirk he wore now.

“I don’t see your problem. Everyone knows there’s nothing like an Emperor’s reputation to keep pesky marines away from yourself in the New World.” Truly, he was mostly here because of circumstance, but Shanks would be so mad that after all these years, Mihawk had joined another emperor, and the weak brother who hated him at that. It was worth it just for that. “Besides, these other... benefits he suggested sound like a good deal.”

Buggy cackled like a madman as Crocodile gaped at Mihawk. Poor guy had been kicked out of the warlords before Buggy joined, and therefore had no idea this wasn’t their first encounter of this sort.

The world’s greatest swordsman had a thing for people who wouldn’t simply fall to his attacks, and while Buggy could attribute that to his devil fruit rather than any skill or haki, the result was the same.

And Mihawk made such a pretty picture on his knees, how was Buggy supposed to resist?

He was a pirate, a real one, through and through, and he’d never turn down a treasure laid out so readily for him. “Why don’t we show him what he’s missing out on?”

Crocodile could only watch as Mihawk situated himself in Buggy’s lap, languidly grinding their hips together as a hand trailed down his back until it was groping at his ass. Their lips met, and soon there were tongues involved.

Buggy clearly didn’t know the meaning of holding back or taking things slow, stripping Mihawk without any sense of patience or grace.

There was no finesse, but Mihawk responded in kind, quickly tearing off Buggy’s sash and pulling down his pants. He slid down to kneel between Buggy’s legs without having to be asked, but Buggy keened in pleasure and gripped at Mihawk’s short hair to guide him into taking as much of his dick into his mouth as possible.

Fuck. Why was this hot?

It was just a sloppy blowjob. Crocodile had seen better, without any clown inolved.

But nothing Crocodile had ever watched matched this pure, unadulterated desire. Buggy didn’t know how to hold back, he had no class, but in this moment, when he was looking down at Hawkeyes with all of that lust written right onto his face, Crocodile wanted those eyes to look at him with that same open desire.

He could feel his cheeks heat up at the thought, and worse, his underwear was getting uncomfortably wet.

...Maybe he should see this as a benefit to their alliance.

Seeing as he’d already been invited, Crocodily shrugged off his coat and stepped closer, though he wasn’t quite sure where to fit himself.

A gloved hand carressed his face without either of the two men even looking at him, a thumb tracing over the scar on his face. The touch was gentle, almost sweet, not at all what Crocodile wanted, but he still let it happen for a few torturous seconds until Buggy finally looked at him, pupils blown wide.

Yes. That was the exact look Crocodile wanted on him. A shudder ran down his spine. Now the touches just needed to match.

“See?” Buggy grinned. It was obnoxious, over the top, the smile of a winner who couldn’t help but lord it over everyone he’d won against. “Now you wanna join. Call me your Emperor and I’ll let you have a seat on my lap.”

Seriously? Crocodile grit his teeth, but the hand on his faced trailed lower, thumb now brushing over his lips.

Crocodile had half a mind to bite it off, though with the clown’s weird devil fruit, he might just end up with a floating thumb in his mouth. Possibly not the best idea.

As he stalled, Mihawk only sped up his efforts, and Buggy’s attention turned back to him, moaning out his appreciation with abandon. Mihawk reached down to his own crotch, but his hand was slapped away by the one that had previously been in Mihawk’s hair, and Buggy set to stroking Mihawk’s cock, quick and sloppy, until Mihawk came with a deep groan.

Buggy followed soon after, thrusting into Mihawk’s mouth with abandon, moans reaching an octave no human should be capable of.

As cum slowly dribbled down into Mihawk’s immaculate facial hair, Crocodile had to wonder if he’d missed his chance. Somehow, that felt even more annoying than giving into Buggy’s unreasonable demands.

“So is it my turn now?” Buggy only looked at him, eyebrows raised, as if posing the question back at him. “...My Emperor?”

Buggy practically purred at the words, and suddenly a hand at Crocodile’s back was pushing him forward, right into Buggy’s lap. For how blissed out he looked, Buggy was still quick at tearing off Crocodile’s layers of clothing. For a second, Crocodile tensed when it was his underwear being pulled off - he hadn’t ever seen a need of informing any of his fellow warlords of his genitals - but Buggy didn’t even look surprised, nothing about his appreciative gaze changed as he took in all of Crocodile, from his obvious top surgery scars to the dripping pussy between his legs.

“Now that’s a feast in form of a man if I’ve ever seen one.”

The tension dissipated basically instantly, and Crocodile felt free to grind down on Buggy. He’d gone soft after spilling down Hawkeye’s throat, but his thigh was good enough for the time being, and Crocodile had no doubt he’d get him hard again in no time.

Buggy’s cock would be inside of him soon, pleasurably stretching him out, and hell, maybe Mihawk’s too. For now, he’d made himself comfortable on one of the armrests, leaning against Buggy and fixating Crocodile with those strange eyes of his.

That wasn’t too bad, either. Crocodile didn’t mind an audience, and he knew if Buggy was actually good at anything, it was putting on a show.

This would be fun.

[lesbobiwan]

Would you consider [70] with commander fox and senator!reader? Any gender/pronouns are fine! Thank you!

YES PLEASE THIS ONE! god tier pic anon thank u so much

#70: "It's too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with your dick in my mouth." + Fox

Your elaborate dress is itchy.

Well, no. Not really.

The dress is too expensive to be itchy. Rather, it's the lace underneath your dress that refuses to be ignored. It's not scratchy so much as tempting.

With every shift of your body, you're reminded — as if you ever forgot — about the dark red lingerie wrapped around your body.

Your gaze flits to the commander standing at a perfect parade rest across from the room.

His helmet is trained straight ahead, conveniently where you sit at the table full of Senators. His head dips, unnoticeable to anyone not watching.

Not you. You find that you're always watching Commander Fox.

You enjoy these Senatorial meetings — not a full convening of the Senate, thank the Maker, but close enough — about as much as Fox does, which is to say not at all.

So it goes without saying that you are in desperate need to spice things up.

You start innocently.

The way the Senators are seated ensures that Fox has a direct line of sight to you and you intend to use that to your full advantage.

You uncross your legs.

Fox tilts his head just barely.

One of your hands strays beneath that table, the perfect picture of subtlety, and you pull at the high slit in your dress until your garter belt is bared for Fox's eyes.

His hands clench at his sides.

You can almost picture the way his eyebrow is raised in challenge.

You skate your fingers along the lace until you reach your inner thigh. You can feel the heat from your pussy.

"Please excuse me," you clear your throat in your best impression of being parched, "I'm just going to get some water."

You smile politely, and the bickering Senators pay you no mind as you walk around the table to where the water fountain is stationed. Right next to Commander Fox, not that that means anything.

No one is watching. They're all too self-absorbed in their own egos and need to be right all the time.

"You know," you drop your voice, standing next to Fox and facing the other way as if you're filling up one of the cups, "It's too bad the others are watching, or I'd be on my knees with your dick in my mouth."

Fox's head snaps to face you.

You stare into the emotionless visor, lips quirked up at just the thought of Fox's face underneath that bucket of his.

"I'm terribly sorry, Senator," Fox says, projecting his voice to be heard over the bickering (not that it matters any), "but I've just gotten word of a situation that needs your attention."

You hum in response to hold off the grin that threatens to overtake your face. "How sudden," you remark, "by all means, we should see to it."

Fox guides you out of the room with a hand on the small of your back that's less than professional.

You're pulled into a broom closet where there is distinctly no situation that needs your attention.

Fox rips his helmet off with no finesse and lets it clatter to the ground.

You duck his attempt at pulling you in for a kiss, instead folding onto your knees, fancy dress be damned.

"Cyare, what are you —"

Your hands unclasp his cod piece, setting it down beside you. "I said if no one was watching, I'd be on my knees," you gesture down at your position, "with your dick in my mouth," you gesture at the erection straining Fox's blacks. "Do you see anyone in here with us?"

Fox huffs in disbelief, "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You grin up at him, pleased as punch as one of his hands caress your cheek, "You like it."

"I'd like it a lot more if you put your pretty lips around my cock."

You inhale sharply, thighs pressing tightly together. Your hands dutifully pull Fox's half hard cock from his pants.

Fox groans, thighs flexing as the cold air hits his cock. One of his hands fists tightly in your intricately pinned hair, and the first tug against your scalp has you keening into the empty storage closet.

"C'mon, pretty thing, put that mouth to good use."

He doesn't sound as commanding as you think he'd like to. He sounds desperate.

You press a soft kiss to the head of his weeping cock, right on his leaking slit, and lick the salty taste from your lips.

Fox's head drops back against the shelving unit behind him, rattling the disinfectant cans there. His hand tightens in your hair.

You have to open your mouth wide to the point of aching to fit him in your mouth.

He's just so thick.

Dedicating yourself in this moment to swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, paying special attention to the ridge of his head.

A tug at your hair has you taking more of his dick down your throat until you start to spasm around him, fighting back your gags.

You lose yourself in the stretch, in the taste. In the groan that reverberates through the room and resonates between your thighs.

You don't stop until your nose is pressed into the hairs at the base of his cock.

"Shit, you feel so good," Fox gasps, thunking his head against the shelving unit again. One of the cans falls, clattering to the ground with a noise that's too loud to be hidden by these thin walls.

"Fuck, your mouth is heaven, sweet thing,"

"You take me so well, baby. Like you were made to suck my cock."

"'m gonna cum,"

Fox babbles, like he always does when you need to be quiet. It's such a wild 180 from his normal bedroom persona — Fox is all rough words and rougher snaps of his hips when he's the one in charge.

Like this, though? Like this, Fox is at your mercy and he knows it.

You pull back until it's just the head of his cock in your mouth again, and both of your hands wrap around his shaft, stroking and twisting just how he likes as you suck on his tip.

His cock is practically drooling in your mouth, almost as wet as you are in your pretty panties.

You drag the edge of your nail along the vein on the underside of his cock and Fox whines as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow three times, twice to ensure you swallow all his cum and once just to see Fox squirm.

He tugs at your hair to get you off now, trembling in oversensitivity, and you show mercy with a soft kiss to his softening cock before sitting back on your heels, looking up at the commander through your eyelashes.

Your face is red, eyes watery and you know there's drool on your chin, but Fox drags you to your feet to kiss you like you're the most gorgeous sight on this side of the galaxy.

"Fuck," Fox hisses between kisses, "You're amazing, you know that?"

His hands grasp and fumble at the slit of your dress, gloved hands searching for the lace wrapped around your hips.

"Are you going to return the favor, Commander?" you ask, trailing biting kisses down his neck until you meet his plastoid armor.

Fox laughs against your skin, deft fingers hooking into your panties to stroke along your soaked slit.

"I'm about to do more than just that, sweet thing."

[angelamajiki]

Can I request something?!

We try to escape Overhaul but he catches us but as a punishment seeing as we don't like him he gives us to Rappa so he can do what he wants to us for a week and in the end we go back to him and he has you never wanting to even step out your room.

Is that fine? Anyways stay safe, drink water, wear a mask, and keep up the great work!

PARINGS: Rappa x AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, watersports, noncon, facefucking, teasing, manhandling, scumbag rappa

AN: thank you nonnie!! <33

Kai had caught you trying to escape. Or rather, Rappa was the one who actually caught you, laughing and jeering at your cries and the pounding of your small fists on his back. Your captor was not amused in the slightest as his henchman emerged into his office with you tucked a little too snuggly over his shoulder.

“Caught your lil’ scrub tryin’ to escape, boss.” Rappa cackled, sitting you down on the chair in front of the yakuza leader’s desk. “Damn, does she squeal like a pig.”

He clapped his hand over your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. The man had taken a liking towards you, meaning to say that he enjoyed watching Kai dole out punishments for when you tried to escape or otherwise upset him, which wasn't hard to do.

“Yes, she does.” Kai sighed, brows furrowed deeply in irritation. “What am I going to do with you, pet? Do I not provide for you, care for you? How can I get you to behave, hm?”

Tapping a finger against his forehead, he signed and closed his eyes, slumping back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.

“I’ll never stop trying to escape because anywhere else is better than being here with you, Overhaul.” You spat venomously, squirming under Rappa’s tight grip. The man behind you just chuckled darkly.

“Say, boss...if the little lady here is so unhappy with you, why don't you put her on loan to someone for the time being? Let ‘em show her how good you are to her, eh?”

Kai quirked a brow at Rappa, immediately picking up what he was throwing down. He had half a mind to punish Rappa as well for his blatant display of insubordination and to dare to think he’d willingly give up his precious pet to him like she was a mere stray.

Ah, but the man did have a point. His pet needed to be taught how kind her master is, and Rappa is the perfect opposition to do so. A degenerate at heart, his underling, was rowdy, filthy, and above all, a bigger sadist than Kai was.

He knew the man loved nothing more than to watch him spank the poor thing until she was a sobbing, blubbering mess of “I’m sorry, Kai!” gasping and panting for air like she was on the verge of death. What a drama queen he had on his hands. But he treated you like a queen nonetheless, but your attitude was simply out of control at this point.

“I think Rappa’s right, dear. Why don't you spend the week with him? Take a break from me if I’m so intolerable.”

Ice ran through your veins as Rappa unceremoniously scooped you up from your chair, opting to throw you over his shoulder. Kai’s chuckle and Rappa’s jeers mixed with your protests as you squirmed and squealed in his monstrous grasp.

“I thought you said anywhere else would be better than being with me. Remember, this is the choice you made, darling.”

“Rappa, you're dismissed.”

With a wave of a gloved hand, your fate was sealed. The bulkier man nodded and smacked a large hand over your ass.

“You and me? We're gonna have some fun, little piggy.” ——— •

Settled on Rappa’s bed, if you could call a sparsely covered mattress that hadn't been washed in god knows how long a bed, your nerves were set ablaze watching the man undress. And he certainly made a show of it, flexing his muscles and winking at you all the while.

“Like what ya see, sweets?” He groaned, striking a pose in front of you in nothing but a wife-beater and a pair of boxers. Oogling couldn't be helped; the man was built like Adonis. Strong, fierce, and big. Much, much bigger than you were.

“I hope so, cause I definitely do.” He smirked, licking his lips as he stalked over to you. “Don’t ya about a thing, little piggy. Papa’s gonna take real good care of ya”

Climbing over you, he pinned you to the mattress with one hand and used the other to feel you up.

“Yeesh, yer stiff as a board. Maybe a little game will help loosen you up, piggy.”

Fingers crawled their way up to your torso and to your mouth, leaving a searing heat in their wake. His fingers snatched your tongue from your mouth, shoving themselves down your throat to choke you.

“This little piggy wants to choke on my cock.”

His insenstant cooing and grinning had your stomach turning in knots, helping the fingers in your throat gag you even further. The thumb pressed down on your tongue before spitting a glob down your throat.

“This little piggy wants to be squeezed real tight.”

The sing-song tone in his voice only served to heighten your fear. Of course, the bastard thought this was all a game to him and you his toy.

His grin only got wider as his hand crept down your throat and ghosted itself there, barely touching before lunging. A panicked yip flew from your mouth as he pinned you by your throat.

There was hardly any pressure, just a cage of fingers keeping you locked into his impossibly firm grip. The hand was more than large enough to circle your neck. You smell the grim on his fingers, the labor of his love for the Shie Hassaikai.

“Almost got ya, piggy!” He teased, licking a long strip up your cheek. God, his breath stunk.

“Keep up now; the fun’s just starting.”

His fingers seemed to leave a trail of grime as they traveled down to your exposed breasts. They groped and gripped at your tender flesh without finesse or technique. So rough and worn from all the fighting he does. Your right tit was cupped in his hand before he gave it a hard squeeze.

“This little piggy wants to be milked.”

Onto your left, giving your nipple a good tug and pinch.

“This little piggy wants to be sucked.”

Your squeals and cries only made him laugh harder, grunting when you squirmed against the leg in between your thighs.

“Aw, is baby girl gonna cry? Cause I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Every touch of the pads from his fingers made you even sicker than before. You could feel every place he touched, the disgusting filth they left in their wake. The continued down your stomach, stopping to tickle you softly on your sides.

“W-What are you doing?!”

Your laughter couldn't be contained as he got rougher and rougher, chuckling along with you as he pressed his face close to yours.

“Stop it! I-I’m going to pee!”

“Good. That's what I like to hear.” He grunted, pressing his elbow hard into your bladder all while tickling you. Shame and piss flushed out of you as he groaned, grinding his knee up against your wet, sloppy cunt.

“Look at that! Piggy’s finally rolling around in filth where pigs belong.”

“I can't wait to make a mess of you.”

Humiliation flushed your face and your body, feeling even more disgusted as you felt your own piss on your lower body.

Rappa stood up and took a good look at you, admiring his handy work. A flushed, tearful expression that could be fucked up even more, his favorite face to see. Especially on someone as beautiful as you.

Sitting you up, he sat behind you and took your hair into two separate ponytails before trying them off.

“There, perfect for gripping.”

A rough push landed you on the floor, naked and afraid. One hand grabbed both your ponytails at the same time and steered you to be seated facing his crotch.

“Open wide, piggy.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough for one evening.

“Are you deaf? Open up, you bratty little bitch. Don't make me ask again unless ya fancy fighting me instead.”

Now that was a truly horrifying thought. The man could quickly kill you with a single punch and let Overhaul bring you back to life, only to do it again and again. Those men, especially Kai, had no qualms about taking your life when you decided to misbehave.

Considering your choices, you cut your losses and nodded, opening your mouth slowly and braced yourself for a brutal facefucking.

The man sunk himself into your throat, sitting there when he bottomed out. His hips twitched as you choked and gagged around his massive dick.

“Yeah.” He groaned, pulling out only to slam back in. “That's what I’m talkin’ about. Finally got ya to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Hips thrusting, he set a brutal pace into your mouth. Heavy balls slapped against your chin as your spit and tears made a mess of your face. He paid no mind to your shaking and struggling, only moaning when you choked particularly hard.

“Guess I gotta let ya up to breathe, huh piggy?”

Pulling himself out, he gave you a few seconds to cough and gulp in the air before nudging his way back into your warm, wet mouth.

“Can’t spoil you too much now.” He chuckled.

One hand gripping each ponytail, he tugged them tight and fucked your mouth with vigor. His hips slammed against your cheeks, sure to leave bruises as they started to sputter.

“Y-You’re just so cute, piggy. I can’t last long when you look at me like that.” He grunted, pulling your hair even tighter.

His cock hurt your throat horribly. You could feel the burn of every stroke and spasm into your mouth, tears streaming down your face even more from the pain. Your hair felt like it was going to be ripped out from the sheer amount of strength he was pulling it with.

His thrusts increased in pace as he chased his orgasm, opting to hold the back of your head flush against his crotch when he finally did cum. Making sure to swallow every last drop, Rappa didn't let you up until he was completely finished.

“Such a good girl for Papa.” Rappa jeered, picking you up off the floor by the throat and pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth.

Tossed onto the bed, he spread your legs wide and pressed a thumb to your dripping hole.

“And this little piggy wants to get fucked all night long.”

[sunmoonandsandsoundtracks]

it's a marshmallow world

i can't believe how fast i went from "i have no fucking ideas!" to polishing this off. it is probably the fastest thing i've written this whole year. yes, it's the shortest, but word count is no indication of time for someone who can be hyper focused and crank out 5k- not a huge exaggeration, if you take into account how many of those words i later cut- in one day, or have the attention span of a kid in a candy store, which means it takes me three hours to write 1k.

this is adorable, and funny. it's my second favorite so far, and a very close second at that. it was so much fun to write. it's in the canon-verse, but divergent since sasuke stayed long enough for there to be snow on the ground.

technically, there is no pairing, i'd say, but i'll still label it as a kakashi x reader.

disclaimer: the plot and takara only are mine to own, so if you feel inclined to sue, fuck off and leave me alone.

song

word count: 971- it's under 1k! i do have self control!

enjoy the baby team 7 love!

The first snow day of winter was always a day to be celebrated. You had a special pair of gloves reserved just for the occasion, and you were dying to put them to good use.

What better use than to help some bright-eyed students take revenge on their sensei? “He’s had this coming since that bell test,” Naruto huffed, helping you build up an arsenal of snowballs along with Sasuke and a dozen shadow clones. The three of you were at the training grounds where they had said bell test, hiding in the shrubs.

“He’s had this coming a lot longer than that,” you cackled.

“Is that why you offered to help us?” Sasuke questioned. “It’s personal?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s personal, but yeah. I’ve been itching to get him just once for longer than you’ve been alive, but I could never find the right accomplices. Lucky you. That, and I’ve seen the attempts you three have made, trying to see him under his mask. They were hilarious and sad at the same time.”

The two genin each shot you a dirty look, and you just smirked back at them. “You know it’s true, boys. None of you have gotten even close individually, and your teamwork is laughable when you’ve tried working together. You may be great in battle, but outside of that, you trip over each other like kittens born five minutes ago.”

“You’re not very nice, Takara-sensei,” Naruto said, pouting.

“I’m helping you, aren’t I?” You teased him. “Give it time. I’m sure I won’t be saying that for very much longer.”

You had a decent pile built when another shadow clone came running.

“They’re almost here!” He informed you, and the boys each took a few shadow clones to different piles you’d set up around the grounds, leaving you a few as well.

Not a moment too soon, Sakura and Kakashi appeared. You weren’t sure how she got him there, but she did her job.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” you counted down as they neared Naruto’s hiding place.

“Fire!” You heard the feisty boy call, jumping out and unleashing his ramen-fueled fury.

Sakura jumped away to another pile and helped Naruto shepherd their sensei toward Sasuke. Kakashi had put his book away to keep it dry, so he didn’t have any distractions. He was having no problem evading the two, and he had obviously been anticipating the third adversary. That was okay. You were the ace in the hole. The genin were just a decoy.

An evil smile dominated your face as you watched them play their parts. When they had him on the next agreed mark, you sent the clones out ahead of you to help corner him. As anticipated, Kakashi finessed his way out of his students’ trap.

“When will you three ever learn? You can’t beat me yet,” he condescended as they all panted, looking defeated.

“Damn,” Naruto said, and that was your cue. You summoned a dozen clones of your own, each grabbing two snowballs, then jumped out.

Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke all smirked, then jumped away as Kakashi turned in surprise to see you right behind him.

“What?! You?!” “Surprise!” You greeted, then delivered the final barrage. You didn’t think a single one had missed.

All was silent as your clones dispelled, and you stood there, the picture of satisfaction. He had snow dripping off every part of him as he gazed back at you in shock.

“You… When?” “That’s for us to know, and you to fear.”

“Yeah!” Naruto cheered as the three re-appeared. “Takara-sensei, you rule!”

“And I wonder why they won’t give me a team,” you laughed. “I’ll just come steal yours when it’s convenient.”

“Oh, please do!” Sakura sighed.

“It wouldn’t be awful for a mission or two,” Sasuke agreed.

Kakashi finally shook his head with a laugh. “Great. You assault me, then you turn my students against me. What’s next? My pack?”

Your grin stretched further. “When I decide to do that, you definitely won’t see it coming.”

Taking off your soaked gloves and tucking them in a pocket, you tried to warm your hands.

“Okay, well, I better go before I lose my fingers to frostbite.” You directed your gaze to the genin. “Great job, you guys. If you need anything else, keep me in mind, and go easy on the old man. See you around.”

Seven eyes followed you as you departed, happily crunching snow underfoot.

“You know, she’s kinda cool,” Naruto said with a light blush, partly from the cold air and exertion. The three of them were all pink in the face, but they had a valid excuse. Their sensei didn’t have as much of one with the thermal mask he wore, but he certainly had some color underneath it.

“She’s awesome!” Sakura praised, happy to find someone she felt would make a good role model for her.

“She’s okay,” Sasuke countered.

“I bet Kakashi-sensei doesn’t think so,” Naruto chuckled.

Sakura eyed the jonin, then smiled knowingly. She knew that look in someone’s eye. She had plenty of up close and personal experience with it in the academy.

“He thinks she’s more than okay!” She declared, piquing both her teammates’ interest- just barely in Sasuke’s case, because it could mean trouble if Kakashi was distracted by someone. He was flaky enough with keeping time as it was. Still, maybe you could help the copy-nin clean up his act.

“What?” Kakashi asked. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Naruto doubted. “You like her!”

“You three are too young to be thinking about that.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Whatever, sensei.”

He gave them the next time they were meant to meet, then disappeared. They glanced at each other, then Sakura spoke again.

“Alright, so here’s the plan to set them up…”

[slimeypuppy]

Stewy is pretty in a way not many things are, Kendall thinks, as the sun peeking through the curtains casts a line of gold along his back. He doesn't make a habit of keeping pretty things around. They're fragile. Diamond earrings and porcelain cups and expensive art all get ruined in a matter of weeks, one way or the other, and he knows that it's his own destruction that tatters them. He doesn't hold onto things that are pretty because he can't take care of them.

He doesn't have to take care of Stewy. He wants to, of course, do the stupid little things like setting the shower to the right temperature while Stewy brushes his teeth, wiping the blood off Stewy's gloves before laying them next to his gun, and hugging him from behind while he has a nightmare. But he doesn't have to hold Stewy together and protect him. Stewy is vicious and tough as nails, more than capable of fighting off an adversary and leaving them broken with hardly a hair out of place. Kendall doesn't think he could break him if he tried.

Stricken with the urge to touch, Kendall distracts himself in a bump off his own wrist from the stash on the nightstand. His nightstand, he realizes. He and Stewy each have a side of the bed, and on Kendall's, the nightstand always boasts a charger for his iPhone even though Stewy has a blackberry, the remnants of whatever he was using the night before, and a little bottle of water-based lube even though Stewy prefers the jelly kind. This is his mark on Stewy's space, kept there as a reminder that there's a place for him here.

He gives in to the desire to feel the muscles of Stewy's back, defined and firm beneath each tentative brush of his fingers. They're pretty evenly matched in a lot of ways, he thinks, but Stewy has more brute strength when adrenaline isn't pumping through their veins. Despite this, he always allows Kendall to hold him down and wreck him, though he gives as good as he gets. He's so pretty. He's too pretty for his own good.

Kendall kisses the nape of his neck and trails down over the soft skin, brushing his lips over thin scars and tiny moles he encounters along the way. He wishes there was more time to explore every inch of Stewy on a regular basis, but that's not what this is and it never has been.

When he reaches the waistband of Stewy's briefs, he pulls it down enough to bite one of his ass cheeks, sharp enough to leave a mark and startle him awake, but not so aggressive as to actually hurt him. Stewy flips them over in a heartbeat, even with eyes still bleary with sleep.

"Don't fucking scare me," he scolds, but it comes out more petulant. "Fuck you."

"Not my fault you didn't wake up while I was kissing you."

There's a smile on his face, leaking into the tone of his voice, which Stewy steals with a proper kiss, much less teeth and passion than usual. It's a tender, gentle thing that cultivates a warm desire in Kendall's stomach rather than pouring gasoline and dropping a match. Stewy rolls his hips against Kendall's to test his interest. He must've already had morning wood, based on how hard he is.

"I wish I had time," Stewy laments between kisses. "I've got work to do. New assignment."

Kendall pouts and ducks his head to find a new place to kiss and bite at, settling on one of the tendons in Stewy's throat that he knows is so sensitive to the sting of teeth. "I could help," he mumbles into his skin.

"Not on this one. I've got like, two weeks to seduce this chick and get her to flip on her husband. It's a one man job."

Kendall pulls back to look up at him. He's beautiful. The light behind his head seems to form a halo around him, proof of divinity. Stewy's dark eyes and swollen lips had to have been crafted by the most benevolent God imaginable.

"I could just kill him."

"No finesse as always, Ken. I've gotta read through this file, alright, and when I'm done, maybe I'll let you blow me."

He raises his eyebrows. "Let me blow you, huh, baby?"

Something in his tone makes Stewy's hard on twitch, which seems to be the nail in the coffin. He slips off Kendall with ease and stretches, showing off every inch of his body in a way that makes Kendall desperate to taste.

"You need to be out of here by the time I'm done showering. I'll call you when I'm back in town."

He walks off to the ensuite, Kendall following him with his eyes the whole way.

[thatsamericano]

Careful, Throwing Snowballs May Result in a Kiss

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Background mentions of Seborga, Veneziano, Canada, and France.

Ratings/Warnings: T for cursing and mildly suggestive dialogue. Pure fluff with no warnings to speak of.

Word Count: 2103

Summary: America throws a snowball at Romano when he’s trying to build a snowman with his brothers. Once Romano tackles America, he has to decide what he wants to do with him.

A/N: Written for @hetalia-fanart-memes, who requested Romerica with the prompt “Don’t throw that snowball” on @helltalia-inc. I hope you enjoy this.

It was snowing in the park only a block away from where the nations had gathered for the world meeting. Romano was never the biggest fan of the cold, so if it had been up to him, he would have gone straight back to the hotel.  He was looking forward to taking a flight back to Rome the next day, where he hopefully wouldn’t be dealing with this snow crap. In the unlikely event that it was snowing in Rome, Romano would go to Naples or another city in South Italy not affected as strongly by the winter.

But for today, Marcello, who had come along on this trip with Savino and Feliciano even if he couldn’t attend the official conference, had practically begged Savino to come build a snowman with him after the meeting. Feliciano had begged too, and under the force of two sets of puppy dog eyes, Savino had folded like a paper napkin.

This wasn’t so bad, Romano reflected. Sure, it was cold as shit, but he was relatively protected in his scarf, hat, and gloves, and he got to spend time with his brothers. At least he hadn’t been pelted with a snowball, which many of the nations had, thanks to America and Canada.

Romano glanced up when he heard France fussing about his appearance as he attempted to brush snow out of his hair. America, who was obviously the one who had thrown this particular snowball, was laughing in his usual obnoxiously bright, ridiculously loud, attention getting way. So, of course Savino turned to glance in that direction instead. He didn’t really have another choice.

Savino hated how his heart started pounding as soon as he looked at Alfred. It wasn’t fair, damn it. No one should look that handsome while just fucking standing there, hunched over a little as they laughed at their own joke like they were God’s gift to comedy. Alfredo was laughing so hard at himself that his cerulean eyes were narrowed into thin slits and tears were leaking from the corners. The sunlight reflected off his glasses, creating a bright light Savino couldn’t manage to look away from. Alfred’s grin was so big it could swallow the sky whole.

And the bastard had dimples, as if God hadn’t blessed him with too much beauty already. Savino wanted to kiss the corner of the idiota’s mouth, just to feel those dimples under his own lips. Savino swallowed heavily at the thought and told himself to focus on the snowman he’d been working on for the past half hour.

But he was too late. America’s smile had already softened, and he had already noticed that Romano was looking at him.

“What’s up, Little Italy? You feel like joining in on the snowball fight?”

Savino scoffed and forced himself to go back to reshaping his snowman’s head. “Hardly. As you can see, I’m busy at the moment.”

“Are you suuure? It could be a lot of fun.”

“If you want to go run around with America, that’s fine,” Seborga told him. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Romano wasn’t looking at his baby brother. He was looking at America, because he knew that mischievous tone of voice from back when they lived together, and he knew that Alfred was planning something. Fredo was never good at subtlety.

America was rolling a snowball together in his gloved hands with a smirk on his face. Because of course he was.

“I swear to God, if you throw that fucking snowball at me—”

The snowball went sailing through the air, and it hit him square in the chest. Savino was stumbled backwards a little, because Alfred had used way too much fucking force with that throw because of his super-strength. It wasn’t enough to really hurt him, but it was almost enough to knock him off his feet.

The sounds of laughter rang out around him. Alfred, of course, and Feli and Marcello nearby. Canada seemed to be chuckling, though he was too quiet for Romano to actually hear him, and so were the other nations nearby, even the ones like France who had been America’s snowball victims.

And that just wouldn’t fucking stand.

Romano glared at America as viciously as he could manage when he was more irritated than truly pissed off. “Now you’re gonna get it, stronzo!”

Alfred took off running, shrieking with laughter, and Savino chased after him. They ran for a couple minutes, because America could be pretty fast when he wanted to be. But he couldn’t outpace an Italian.

Eventually, Savino tackled him in a snowbank and fell right on top of him. If America had really wanted to get away, Romano would have had no hope of holding him down. But America wasn’t struggling. He relaxed back against the snowy ground, panted for air, and smiled up at Romano sheepishly.

“Looks like you caught me.”

“I guess I did.” Savino moved one of his hands to the side to gather up some snow in his palm. Alfred didn’t notice. He was still too busy grinning up at him.

Alfred giggled, because apparently, he found the idea of being in this position inherently hilarious for God knows what reason. “Now that you have me, what are you gonna do with me?”

Savino gazed down at him thoughtfully. He took a moment to examine the golden blond hair tousled underneath his knit cap and how it perfectly framed his rosy cheeks. He stared at the goofy smile and the electric blue eyes that had distracted him so thoroughly before. He memorized what it felt like to have Alfred’s firm, solid body laid out underneath him.

“I can think of a few things,” Savino admitted quietly. “Not all of them would be appropriate for a public park.”

Alfred’s eyes widened comically behind his glasses, and his face turned red. No, not just red, practically scarlet. His face practically matched the poinsettias that had been decorating the lobby of the office building they were in earlier today. “Vinny, that’s um, that’s, wow, I…”

Romano chuckled at how flustered and tongue-tied he was. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Alfred nodded frantically, with a desperate look in his eyes. “Please.” He might have been embarrassed, but he was eager too. It was too adorable for Savino to resist.

He started to lean down, and America closed his eyes, because he was innocent and gullible enough to do that. He couldn’t see Romano’s arm lifting with the snowball he’d make earlier. A millisecond before their lips touched, Romano shoved the snowball he’d made earlier directly into the crook of America’s neck, right above his coat collar and scarf, where he was unprotected from the cold.

America’s eyes flew open, and he squawked indignantly. “You tricked me!”

Romano laughed at the offended look on his face. “You made it so fucking easy.” He couldn’t believe America had actually fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

Alfred growled at him, and the low noise sent a tingle down Savino’s spine. “That was evil. I really oughta do something about it.”

Savino snorted. “What the fuck do you think you’re gonna do, Mr. Tough Guy?”

“This.” Before Romano could ask what “this” was, America flipped them over, and in the space of a second, he was pinned underneath someone a lot stronger than him. He couldn’t have escaped if he’d wanted to. Savino couldn’t breathe properly, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the sudden body slam or the fact that Alfred was on top of him.

To repeat, Alfred was on top of him. His brain couldn’t function at half its normal capacity when he realized that.

Then Alfred was kissing him, and it wasn’t soft, nor gentle, nor sweet. America’s tongue shoved its way into his mouth immediately, without any build-up or finesse, and Romano could feel how frustrated he was. He must have been suppressing this desire for as long as Romano had, because it didn’t just feel like something America wanted. It felt like a raw, animalistic hunger, like he was kissing Romano hard enough to bruise because he might die if he didn’t.

Savino felt the same way. He groaned in the back of his throat, clutched the collar of Alfred’s coat, hauled him close enough to feel the edge of his glasses digging into his face, and kissed him back just as forcefully.

After a while, it had to end. They couldn’t kiss forever because of that whole inconvenient “need to breathe” thing. Alfred disconnected their mouths, sighed happily, and scooted down a little to nuzzle Savino’s cheek.

“Best revenge ever,” Alfred declared triumphantly.

Savino huffed out a laugh. “I’m not sure if that counts as revenge. Revenge is supposed to be something the other person doesn’t like.”

“And you liked kissing me a lot, didn’t you?” America sounded so smug and sure of himself, and ordinarily, Romano would have been annoyed by anyone with that kind of attitude. But with Alfred, the fondness tended to outshine his annoyance. That didn’t happen with most people.

Savino rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I did.”

“I liked kissing you too. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages. I could kiss you all day long. Well, except for when I have to go to the bathroom or something like that. But other than that, pretty much all the time.”

Savino shook his head and laughed again. “God, I love you.” The words slipped out, because they were so easy to say. Fredo was a dork who would openly admit to wanting to kiss Savino all the time, and he wasn’t even exaggerating. He looked like a goddamned movie star, but even with his occasional moments of arrogance, he never seemed to realize how ludicrously attractive he was, much less how he could have anyone in the world wrapped around his pinkie finger. America made Romano laugh and smile more than anyone else ever had. Of course Savino loved him.

Alfred blinked in shock, he’d just seen the face of God, but somehow more astounded than that. Then he grinned, with the adoration of a child to its mother or a puppy to its owner, but somehow purer and more loving than that too. Savino’s internal similes were failing him.

Alfred’s words were failing him too. “I love you too! I love you so much, I just—” He didn’t finish his sentence and resorted to covering Savino’s face with ecstatic kisses.

Savino giggled at his overexuberance. “Tesoro, I believe you. You don’t have to prove it, okay?”

“But I want to.”

Fair enough, Savino supposed. He laid there, grinning like an idiot in the snowbank, and let Alfred keep kissing his face. His hat had been knocked off earlier when Alfred flipped them over, and the cold at the back of his head and the nape of his neck was starting to get to him, but he was trying to ignore that.

When he noticed Savino shivering, Alfred sat up and pulled him into his lap. “Better?”

“Much.” Romano saw his hat on the ground and frowned in indecision. It had been laying in the snow for a long time, so it would probably only make his head colder, not warmer.

So instead of reaching over to get his hat, he nestled his head into America’s shoulder. America wrapped both arms around him in a clingy embrace.

“Now it’s perfect,” Savino decided.

Alfred kissed the top of his head. “Damn right it is.”

Savino wasn’t quite warm due to the temperature outside, but he was content and drowsy. The rhythm of Alfred’s breathing was oddly soothing.

That rhythm was interrupted by an abrupt laugh. “Dude, I just realized. If someone came by looking for us, they’d find you curled up in my lap instead of running after me and throwing snowballs. They’d be confused as hell.”

“Let ‘em be confused. I don’t really care what they think, do you?”

Alfred squeezed him a little tighter, and Savino didn’t have to look up to know that he was smiling.

“I never did. I’m just happy to be holding you.”

Savino’s face was warm, and he was blushing at least as badly as Alfred had been earlier, after Savino had implied he might do something to him that wasn’t appropriate for a public park. He wasn’t used to this much affection, and maybe he never would be.

But Romano didn’t care who might walk by and see him blushing with a cheesy grin on his face. He was happy, Alfred was holding him, and that was all that fucking mattered.

[hisunshiine]

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜? |𝕛.𝕛𝕜|

♡ 𝘣𝘰𝘹𝘦𝘳!𝘫𝘫𝘬 𝘹 𝘧𝘢𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

♡ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦

You stood at the edge of the black matted square, hands framing your mouth as you screamed at your favorite fighter. 

“You got it, JK!”

The sound of the end of the round bell signaled, but not before your favorite competitor was able to land a blow on his opponent and shuffle backwards out of the way and over to his corner. Your eyes followed him, pupils dilating as you took in his state. 

Round 5 of the 12 had left Jeon Jungkook covered in sweat, a small bruise forming on his cheek, and the tiniest trickle of blood spilling from a cut above his eye. A blink later and the blood is gone, wiped away by his trainer, Min Yoongi. You are barely able to make out the words that he’s saying to him, and Jungkook’s eyes are staring daggers at the other guy, a new competitor to the scene hailing from Seoul. 

“Take this one home for Busan, baby!” A gaggle of women dressed in scantily clad dresses were seated behind you, cheering loudly as the boxers made their way back into the center of the ring. Illegal fights like this always drew in the most random of spectators, who are usually dragged along by their wealthy, crime-inclined dates. You yourself first got into the scene from an ex-boyfriend who brought you to a fight one night, and though the ex is long gone, you kept coming. 

It was the thrill of seeing Jeon Jungkook fight that brought you back each time. You can’t forget the first time you saw him, walking into the ring with the body of a greek god and a face that you could take home to mom. 

He smiled a scrunched nose smile at something the trainer said, but once it was time for him to put in his mouth guard and face his opponent, his face transformed and the fierce competitor you were now watching step back into the center of the ring appeared. 

He scanned the crowd briefly as the other boxer finished up getting cleaned up and his eyes made contact with yours briefly. It was but the slightest moment, but you felt your body light up just from that glance. 

As the next round began, Jungkook began to move, his footwork exceptional as he maintained distance between himself and the other guy, who you realized was Park SeoJoon, from Seoul’s underground scene. 

He had a reputation for not fighting fair, but you knew your fighter; Jungkook could take him.

As an out-fighter, Jungkook relied on his reflexes and quick footwork to wear down his adversary, utilizing jabs to earn his points. From your time watching him, you knew he had exceptional finesse as he moved across the matted floor, and tonight was no different. Seojoon appeared tired, as Jungkook had landed some really good jabs on him in moments of weakness, and you could feel it in the air; this round would be the last.

You watched as Seojoon stepped in to throw a punch, which Jungkook dodged at the last second, feinting right before coming in to the left with a swinging arm that met Seojoon’s unblocked face. His head snapped back, the force of his own misthrown punch sending him meeting Jungkook’s gloved fist and knocking him out swiftly before he even hit the mat.

Jungkook’s still bouncing on his toes, adrenaline racing as the ref steps forward to declare him the winner. Again his eyes meet yours as he spits out his mouth guard and his smile lights up the entire room. 

You decide then and there you want to congratulate him. Afterall he is the Boxing Prince of Busan.

-

You walk into the locker room, no one stopping you as you roam down the hallway towards the back. You can see there are multiple doors, one of them propped open by a gym bag. A pink haired, shirtless guy walks out of the room, sucking down a gatorade, but at the sight of you he pauses, eyes roaming your body. A blue haired guy joined the first. 

“Looking for someone sweetheart?”

The endearment was teasing and his voice a deep baritone. You were shocked by how handsome all the men in the gym seemed to be.

“Um, yea… where can I find Jeon.. um, Jeon Jungkook?”

The two exchanged a glance, smirking as they both turned to look back at the door they had just walked out of.

“He’s in there. Came to congratulate that rascal?” The pink haired one asks you, his tenor a soft musical lilt with a Busan satoori accent. 

You nod, unsure of where the confidence had come from when you had first walked into the dim locker room, and wondering where it had scampered off too when you were approached by the two colorful haired men.

“We’ll leave you to it then..” The pink haired one saluted you as he walked to a nearby bench you hadn’t noticed, reaching into the bag atop of it and pulling out a shirt. You walked towards the door, heart racing as you knocked to get the attention of the half dressed winner of tonight’s fight.

“I’ll be there in a minute--” Jungkook’s voice fades as he turns to the door, expecting to see his manager, but instead sees you.

“Hey.. You’re the girl at every fight..”

“Congratulations, Jeon Jungkook.”

He smiles at you, eyes darkening slightly at the tone as you step into the room. You slide the bag from propping the door, shutting it quietly before leaning your back onto it. Eyeing him, you take in the freshly showered look of his hair, the shorts that go a little past his knees and the crewneck he has thrown over his head. It’s resting against his shoulders, showcasing his chest and torso to you. 

“Thank you...?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeats, and you feel the rush of heat straight to your core. His voice is in between the other two men you talked to, a tenor like the pink one but a deeper tone to it like the blue one, a melodious mixture that showcased the satoori of his Busan background.

“So what brings you back here?” he asks, abandoning his duffel bag and approaching you. From this close, you can see the slight bruising of his face and the tape holding together his split head. 

“Oh, you know, wanted to finally congratulate you in person.”

“Mmm, and what kind of congratulations did you have in mind?”

He’s close, arms leaning against the door and caging you in as you look up at him.

“Something similar to last time?” 

A glint flashes in his eye, and your boyfriend giggles before capturing your lips with his. Oh he enjoyed this little game of yours, sneaking into the locker room after matches and pretending like you were a groupie so thirsty for him that you had to have him right then. It reminds him of the first time he had you, when you had arrived at one of his first fights with some other guy on your arm and left with Jungkook instead. 

He pushes you firmly against the door, hips grinding into you as your hands grip at his shoulder blades, clutching him closer to you.

“Mmf… feel you...” You lift one leg, allowing him to slot himself between your thighs and his hardening length is flush against your mound. His hand reaches underneath the raised leg to provide you with balance, and gives him leverage to roll his hips with precision. You’re whining; you want more, you want him to fuck you hard before he takes you home and fucks you again.

“Such a needy baby, aren't you?” he asks, not expecting an answer. You nod anyways as his lips move to your neck, his hand moving to your shorts and expertly undoing the button and zipper on them. You drop your leg, and inwardly you pout at the loss of direct contact and friction, but he’s quick to drop your shorts to the floor, his hand seeking the warmth of his favorite place between your thighs. 

“Ahh, right there... ” his fingers rub in circles around your clit, slathering your own slick around until he takes 2 fingers and dips them inside of you. You mewl, adjusting to the intrusion but soon you’re rolling your hips, riding his fingers as his palm brushes your clit with each thrust. 

“Koo...” you moan his name, and he bites down on your neck, a slight sting of pain before he plants open mouthed, wet kisses down along your shoulder. It’s not long before you're falling apart in his hands, the first of many orgasms he lays claim to. 

Removing his fingers, he sucks them into his mouth, a lewd slurping sound before he removes them with a pop.His hands then grip your hips as he spins you, putting your face first into the door. You can hear the rustling of his shorts and then he’s pulling your hips out slightly as his feet nudge your legs further apart.  

“Please,” you beg him, and it’s not long before he complies, his bent knees allowing him to position himself and swiftly enter you as he stands to his full height. His cock is throbbing; he had been waiting for this moment of ecstasy when he would be able to enter you. Your walls grip him tightly despite him already having prepared you for his well-endowed length, and he fights the urge to jack rabbit into you, allowing you feel every inch of him as he slides himself out of you before he pistons back inside. The door rattles underneath your body as he thrusts up into you, barely hiding the breathy moans that escape your parted lips. Jungkook has worked up a sweat again, his bare chest flush to your back as he pushes deep into you and stays still, lips kissing along the back of your neck.

You roll your hips in circles, allowing him to feel the way you whine your hips so he can feel every inch of your pulsing cunt. He moans, and the dulcet tone of his voice has you clamping down onto him hard.You reach back, your hand in his hair as he breathes quiet sounds into your ear, whispering naughty words of encouragement as he begins to move again, despite your best efforts to hold him still inside of you. 

“This pussy’s mine, yeah?”

“Mmhhhmm.”

“Say it.”

“It’s, fuck, it’s yours baby, it’s all yours.”

His hips slam into your perked up ass, and his hands grip your hips now as he speeds up, leaning off of your back as he angles himself so that he can go faster. Again, your senses are overwhelmed as he sends you to climax, the sporadic throb of your walls as they gush around him has him following you. 

At the onset of his release, he spanks you, enjoying the way you squeeze around him, helping to milk his thick arousal as it spills in spurts to fill you. He pulls out, turning you gently to lean against the door once more, where he can sink his teeth into you bottom lip before kissing you tenderly. He cradles your cheeks in his large hands, enjoying the whimpering sigh you let out from his caress. 

“Let’s get you home, baby.” His voice is near a whisper, and you nod, spent.

“When we get home, I’m gonna take care of you again, okay baby?”

“I don’t know if I can go anymore… this might be the second knockout you got for the night.”

He chuckles at your joke.

“C’mon baby, I only got to do half of my rounds tonight.. I need at least 4 more out of you.”

[anonthenullifier]

I have a quote prompt, actually it’s from the first issue of the 1985 Vision and the Scarlet Witch Comic. “The Scarlet Witch is never helpless”

I love this quote! My mind went through so many options that were all really different. Hopefully you enjoy the one I settled on!

——

The cave smells of sulphur and the air is swamp-like, her hair bunching into curls with each additional minute in the humidity. “Hey, Vizh,” Wanda keeps her voice low, as calm as possible, hoping the only attention she rouses is Vision’s and not the transdimensional lava demon clomping back and forth across the cavern. Neither of them stir so she tries again, a touch louder, “Vision.” Under normal circumstances she would reach out not only to his mind but also send a tendril of scarlet to dance along his jaw, except said demon has apparently been studying them, devising vices to limit the use of their powers. Without the freedom of her hands, she finds it hard to channel her powers with enough finesse to only alert Vision, leaving her able only to feel the outermost furling of his thoughts. This is not enough for her to determine that Vision is okay, especially in his current state, his body suspended so that it is leaning forward, arms uncomfortably hoisted behind him to eliminate the chance he can turn his head and sear away the chains with the Mindstone. It reminds her of the nightmare that was aerial battle yoga with Natasha. Wanda tries to nudge his mind while defaulting to conversation in the hope he’ll respond. “I don’t know about you, but my arms are tired.”

Without even opening his eyes, he provides an autopiloted insight to her discomfort, “That would be due to the gravitational field of this planet being almost three times that of Earth.” Two seconds is all it takes before his mind seems to catch up to his surroundings, voice trembling with realization as he raises his head to look at her, “Wanda...when did you get captured?”

Time is meaningless down here, mainly because she can’t access her handheld device to determine how long it’s truly been. “Maybe half an hour ago?” This shouldn't be the point of conversation, however, her own capture not accidental by any means, but she can’t risk alerting their captor to that. “How are you holding up?”

“Rather uncomfortably, as you can no doubt observe.” If his response were a wine, she’d be puckering. At least his spirits are still intact enough to be sardonic. “Are you unharmed?”

His swing from sarcasm to unfettered anxiety dictates she give more than a nonchalant I’m fine. Unlike him, she is in a pretty basic prisoner-in-an-evil-lair position—ankles shackled to the stone wall and shoulders screaming at being suspended by the metal glove encasing both her hands. Even if she’s been here a couple hours less than him, all blood has already drained from her hands and forearms causing pins and needles to colonize under her skin. “Other than my arms, I’m not hurt.” Relief sags his body as much as the restraints allow, maybe a millimeter, but it’s enough, along with his shaky breath out, to convey his ever present concern for her over himself. It’s why she redirects to the real concern here: him. “I assume your powers aren’t working?” The chains attached to Vision’s wrists and ankles jangle morosely as he demonstrates phasing for her. The second his body flickers it is consumed by an electrical shock that sizzles along the edges of the vibranium. She finds herself wincing just so someone acknowledges how agonizing it looks. “You could have just said yes.”

The resounding clink of metal this time is due to his attempt at a shrug, “I felt it pertinent to test the efficacy of the power destabilizer in case it had malfunctioned.”

“Looked like you were trying to win the pitiful award.”

His breathy, contained snort very briefly eradicates the twinge she’s developed in her lower back. “I presume you are either a fellow victim or,” hope enters his question with a little vocal uptick, “here to enact a daring rescue?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good...good,” they lapse into a moment of silence, “and that plan is?”

The plan was for her to get captured, as it’s the only known way into the deepest cavern and then either wait for the others to find a way to infiltrate (not even Strange’s portals capable of getting in) or she has to identify a weakness from within. It’s not a great plan but it’s what they have to work with since she refused to go another minute not knowing if Vision was okay. “Um, still finalizing it.”

“Ah, well, looking forward to it then.” If anyone else was down here with him they would likely have overlooked the subtle undercurrent of sass, assuming he was just being anticipatory, but she knows every rise and fall of his voice, every carefully planned cadence and right now he is being an ass. A very handsome ass, but an ass nonetheless.

“But now that I’m here, it’s kind of nice,” it’s not, it’s hot, it’s muggy, it’s dripping with molten rock and peppered with vents puffing up noxious gases, “like one of those spas with the hot stone massage.”

Vision does his best to examine the hellscape, neck only able to crane so far due to the angle of his suspension and the increased gravity, not even his attempts at lowering his density are successful in alleviating either impediment, “I would temper your excitement. The attendant,” he nods towards the demon who is currently pacing in front of an iridescent oval, “informed me they are fresh out of those little cucumber slices for your eyes.”

Without thinking, Wanda allows a single syllable laugh to escape her lips, an action that causes the horned, amorphous head of their captor to turn towards her, its eyes burning like two embers hanging on for life at the end of a campfire. Wanda quickly puts on a pathetic whimper, giving her chains a few good rattles and a pitiful, “Please let us go” and then waits until the demon has returned its attention to guarding the prismatic holding container before responding. “I’m knocking a star off their rating then.”

“That seems fair.”

Having confirmed Vision is relatively fine, Wanda lets them lapse back into silence, a recommendation from Carol to not be overly loquacious in case it stirred suspiciousness towards their still forming grand rescue plan, which is usually fine, one thing she loves about Vision is how easy it is to feel comfortable in silence, the gentle thrum of his mind a soothing, harmonious white noise. Except currently she can’t get deep enough into his thoughts to find reprieve. All she can experience is the echo of evenly spaced though labored breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, and the clenching of his teeth anytime he attempts to shift his density to counteract the angle of his imprisonment. Wanda tries to tamp down the rising worry of what failure would mean, instead directing all of her own attention to feeling out the options for escape.

First she has to figure out her powers. Not only are her hands bound together in the metal glove, her fingers have been forced into fists with no room to expand. It’s uncomfortable and aggravating but also a grave misunderstanding of her abilities because sometimes finesse isn’t necessary. As controlled as she can manage, Wanda collects her powers into one concentrated ball centering in her chest, holding it steady in case she needs to utilize what Vision has lovingly deemed her supernova. No matter how impressive, however, it’s a dangerous maneuver, one she can’t risk in unstable environments, like a potentially active alien volcano. Which is why she needs to channel the man next to her and be patient. Assess everything. This would be easier if her arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off.

“Um Wanda…”

Her Yeah? shrivels into terrified nothingness the second she raises her eyes, the lumbering form of their captor oozing over towards Vision. Behind it the shining oval and prismatic container are blindingly bright. That’s never a good sign. Neither is the way it reaches a coal colored hand towards Vision. “Don’t touch him.” There’s a snort, dismissive and loud and like a million steam engines erupting all at once If Wanda had her hands free, she’d use them to cover her ears, the world around her muffled now, even her own breaths sounding distant and unconnected from her.

The demon doesn’t listen to her, a solitary finger delicately (as delicately as a monstrous entity can) touching the Mindstone. The stone lights up in response. Based on the shock spreading across Vision’s face and rippling through his body, he is not in control of it. She has made the stone betray him before, and still lives with that guilt, still remembers the way he described it to her, the suffocating realization that he lacked control over such an integral aspect of himself. She’ll be damned to allow anyone else to make him feel it again.

“Stop!” Horrified, she watches the demon ignore her, beckoning the Mindstone energy forward in a docile beam, inching it along with malicious encouragement even as Vision thrashes against his restraints. Clearly the time for planning is over. “I said stop!”

The demon's head swings towards her and she almost screams, the crackling skin of their captor close enough for her to gaze into the smoldering eyes studying her. She imagines standing in the middle of a raging forest fire would be more comforting than the depths of hell in its pupils. “Accept your fate, little witch.” The words spoken are not the ones she hears, its voice akin to the shattering of an entire hutch of china during a tornado, a tinkling of shards as they get whisked away in the howling wind, and yet she understands it, likely some form of mental translation Dr. Strange told them existed in other beings. It’s awe-inspiring while also being a complete ass.

Wanda meets its eyes and glares. “Only if you accept your fate.”

It laughs, wings expanding out across the entire cavern, shaking as if it has heard a joke for the first time in eons. “You,” it bends low, the heat of its body drawing droplets of sweat along her forehead, “are helpless here.”

“You are going to regret that.” For a man who only seconds ago was fighting for his life, Vision’s gleeful taunt enlivens in her the last bit of strength she needs.

Wanda siphons his confidence into herself, unlocking the core of her power as she sets up her daring rescue at last. “You made two mistakes today.” The transdimensional demon lacks hair and any sort of eyebrows, but that doesn’t stop the distinct feeling of it raising them in disbelief. “First,” Wanda leans forward as much as the chains allow, “you kidnapped and tortured the love of my life. And second,” scarlet begins seeping through her body, crackling along her skin as she speaks, “you assumed I was helpless,” the plan was to cause as little harm as possible, the terrain unstable, the power of this demon unknown, but that’s too soft a punishment for a being that doubts her might, that thinks it can control her, that tried to take from her and think she wouldn’t fight back. Wanda makes sure the demon is looking directly at her when she invokes its fate . “The Scarlet Witch is never helpless.”

As the last word falls from her lips, she allows her powers to erupt.

Oiled hands knead up and down Wanda’s arm, applying the perfect amount of pressure to alleviate the last of her aches. There’s a lovely waft of chamomile each time she breathes in and a soothing melody of some nondescript instrumental track. Even more peaceful is the ebb and flow of Vision’s thoughts, her powers greedily deep in his mind. It’s why she’s able to smile in anticipation of his next comment.

“I agree with you.”

Wanda stays face down, far too relaxed to even think about moving, “Obviously,” a little snort comes from her left, guiding her lips up higher into victory, “what specifically?”

“I just finished the report,” only Vision would consider mission reports a comfort read, “Dr. Strange is still perturbed with your methods.”

In her mind there was no inkling of doubt their de facto mission leader was seething, mostly due to the forty minute lecture she received on excessive use of powers, but rarely does he allow it to seep into ink for everyone to read. “I think he’s jealous.”

What she expects is an airy laugh and then a gentle rebuttal, instead she is delivered a treat, “I do believe that is part of it.” Wanda apologizes to the masseuse as she props herself up to look over at Vision, tickled at the unadulterated relaxation before her. He’s engulfed in a snowy white robe while reclined in a chair, a hot towel wrapped around his head with two little cucumber slices on his eyes that look like lifeboats in the waves of the clay mask slathered on his face. When he talks it forms little cracks in the mask, “You achieved a feat he could not, anyone would experience at least a speck of jealousy.”

“Even you?”

“If I had been in his position?” the cracks splinter in six different branches as he contemplates. “Yes, even me. But,” gingerly he reaches up and lifts a cucumber, allowing her to see the swirling gear of his iris, “given I was not in his position, I, instead, am able to appreciate how very fortunate I am to be loved by such a stunningly powerful woman.” A flirty little wink is sent her way before the cucumber drops back into place.

Wanda grins, cheeks rising high enough to hurt a little, as she settles back into the massage table. After all these years that little boyish grin and wink of his urges her heart to beat a hair faster. Maybe she lied in the cavern, overstated the level of helplessness she can experience, because no matter the circumstance, she will always be helplessly in love with Vision. A fact that doesn’t weaken her, can never tame her, one instead that challenges her to understand and harness her powers even more because the universe will never stop trying to take from her, will relentlessly pursue her happiness. This she won’t stand for anymore. Whatever comes next, no matter how intimidating or powerful, she will be ready to yet again prove that the Scarlet Witch is not so easily crossed.

[stardancerluv]

When You Take Care of Each Other

Part 7b

Summary: Roman handles you when you misbehave.

Warning: oral male receiving, dom!Roman, daddy!kink, glove!kink, orgasm denial, marking/owning, discussion of feelings

If you were not already incredibly aroused you were now, as you did what he demanded. You were shaky with desire.

He tilted your face up once you were on your knees in front of him. You knew when and when not to be too bratty with Roman. Blinking, you looked up at him. You suppressed the giggles your drink gave you.

“I’m not sure if I am going to, in your words get off.” His lips wrinkled at the words you had used.

That, you knew, had been liquor talking. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that.” You whispered.

“What did you say?” He rasped.

You swallowed. “I became a little vulgar and I’m sorry.”

His lips twitched upward. “I have always enjoyed knowing you desire me.” He nodded. “But yes, that had been.”

“Let me make it up to you.” You met his eyes from under your lashes.

His lips curled into a smile that sent shivers through you. “Yes. I will have you use your mouth in a way I know we both enjoy.”

You watched as he lowered his zipper and fished himself out. “Look at what you do to me.” You could not stop yourself from licking your bottom lip. “And baby, tonight I’m setting the pace.”

Your eyes grew and you nodded.

Soon feeling yourself get wetter he slid into your mouth. He began sliding in and out, each time he slid in he went in further. You knew he never was too harsh or cruel to you. He’d let you prepare for more and more of him.

You grasped onto the soft fabric of his slacks as he stood next to you. His fingers in your hair as he guided himself. Your tongue and lips helped, how you loved all of this. How he breathed above you with the occasional sounds. Sometimes he delighted in holding back, which was enough to drive you crazy.

Almost as soon as you were enjoying the feel of how he was sliding in and out of your mouth, he left your mouth.

Blinking, you looked up and watched as he tucked himself back into his slack with some effort. “Get up and follow me.”

You did. No longer were you feeling the need to be bratty. You simply wanted him and the ache he had created, making you just crave more.

He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to the sitting area. He pulled you close. His eyes lit from the lights that twinkled from all over Gotham. “Are you mine?”

You nodded.

“Use your words, baby.”

You swallowed, throat still tickled from moments ago. “I’m yours.”

“Are you being good now?”

You nodded, catching your breath. Looking into his eyes. “Yes, I am being good now.”

His fingers caressed your cheek. “Good. Now go kneel on the sofa, so you can look out at what also belongs to me.”

You wiggled gently against him. “I like being good for you.” You could feel he was even more aroused than before.

“And that makes me happy.” Resting a

You reached for the hem of your dress and lifting it up, you showed yourself to him. “I’m all yours daddy.”

“Lovely.”

“Thank you, daddy.”

Kneeling like he asked, you looked back at him. You were forced to bite back a moan, as you saw him palm himself in his slacks.

He came over to you. The coolness of the penthouse did its own cooling slap against your ass, making you shiver as you felt his hands brush your dress up so it rested on your hips.

You heard as once again this evening you could feel he’s freed himself from his slacks. You felt yourself melt and give yourself up to whatever he had planned, a whimper was what came from your lips first. One of his hands wrapped around your soft strands. He pulled enough to arouse you further and you called out as you felt him tease your entrance which he easily slid against.

“Daddy.” You begged, pleaded.

“Do you promise to not get so mouthy with me downstairs?”

“Yes. I was so bad, daddy. You can choose whether I deserve to cum or not.”

A deep sound came from him. He entered you then, pushing you so deliciously into the cushions with his weight. Grasping your hips, he bent forward.

“I am going to enjoy owning you here as I look out at all that is mine.”

Closing your eyes, a moan poured from your lips. There was no teasing, no finesse, you could feel he was just as eager to cum as you were. You would surrender to it until he would allow you to.

You made a soft sound. “You feel so good.”

His fingers tightened. “Good.” Bending forward, he placed a firm but not hard bite on your shoulder. “Mine baby, all of this belongs to me.”

“Yes.” You whimpered, you were on the cusp, but didn’t ask or plead. But your body clenched hard around him.

You felt as he stiffened before he continued to be in you. “My baby is so close?”

You looked back at him. “Yes.”

Again, he pulled out of you. “Turn around, and face me.”

You did, but you went to sit.

“Don’t you dare sit.”

You immediately kneeled on the sofa before him.

“You are so beautiful.” He murmured. He stepped closer to you. “You need to know what happens when you walk away from me like that. Or what happens when you are so horribly bratty to daddy in his club.”

“Yes, daddy.”

You watched as his elegantly gloved hand wrapped around his hard cock. “You do this to me baby. But I didn’t walk away.” He slid his hand up and down. His voice cracked as he moaned, he threw his head back as he took a wider stance. He then came hard all over the front of your bare chest and chiffon dress. It had been a new one.

You were shocked but also immensely turned on, he had looked absolutely amazing. “Remember, don’t you dare move.” He rasped.

He tucked himself away now. Taking out his handkerchief he snapped to have its radiance be on display even in the shadows. He wiped away some of himself that had landed on your face. He freed himself from his jacket. He tossed it to an overstuffed chair he liked to sit in, where you would sometimes curl up on his lap. Turning his attention to you, one of his gloved hands caressed your hip.

“You look so good being mine again.” He smirked. Sliding his hand over he cupped you right at your core, you whimpered. “Mm, did you learn to be good?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Good.” Was all he said. He began rubbing at you. He made a soft sound. “I can feel how wet you are through my love baby.” A sound came from him. “Mm, I like making you this wet.”

Feeling his gloved fingers added a certain dimension to sensations he caused in you.

“Please, please can I cum now?” You finally begged.

“Yes, baby. Cum against my glove.”

You finally let yourself cum. You shook and the sounds he pulled from you echoed against the walls of the penthouse.

******

With hair ruffled and still wet from the shower the two of you shared, you curled closer to Roman. Your chiffon dress and a few other items were already burning away in the incinerator.

“I will always take care of you. But being bratty like that makes me wonder, so I have to remind you. Don’t make me be so harsh towards you.” He glanced down at you.

You grimaced and nodded. “I promise to be good for you.” You gave him some soft kisses along his jaw.

“Good baby.” He sighed. “Now let us sleep. A new day will be here soon enough and I need my sleep for what is ahead of me these next few weeks.

Worry sliced through you, but it disappeared as you knew deep down he could handle anything. He was yours to cuddle with, while the rest of Gotham fears him

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