#this idea came to me unbidden

[porcelaintoybox23]

Describing Honkai Star Rail characters based on the fandom’s tweets I’ve run into incidentally (not an exhaustive list)

(Typical) shonen waifu

Lesbian

Yae Miko

Future incel terrorist

Racist

Honkai Al Haitham

Not a g00mer Makima

Elderly Edgelord

Blade if his trauma made him funny

Ferdinand von Aegir

Chaeya’s love child specifically their mental issues

[fluffybunnybadass]

someone: I think you're annoying

me, with tears in my eyes: you think of me? 🥹

[ofieugogyshz]

"i love my husband," I grumble to myself, meticulously pouring over every single character in this code to try and figure out why it won't work for me despite having changed only some of the words so it won't be so generic. "i FUCKING LOVE HIM" i shout, smashing my hand against the table as the event continues to not load correctly until i get rid of a reference command that had worked fine in the original code. "I'm doing this," I say, gritting my teeth to keep more swears from flying out. "FOR HIM."

[goodugong]

I don't know where it came from, but several years ago this idea popped into my head unbidden, and for some reason it tickles me. I don't know if it's funny, but I like it and I made it into a zine, I hope you enjoy it.

It lays out really nicely as 3-up spreads on A4 paper, so you can print, staple and fold it, then cut it into 3 zines. It made it really easy to print up 20 of them to trade at this art social thing I went to

micron, rotring and sharpie on printer paper, coloured and screentoned digitally, 2024

If you want a digital or physical copy

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[littlelamy]

Reader request with Rafe. Maybe she breaks down sobbing in the middle of sex and he has no idea why, thinking he hurt her. Her reasons aren’t bad. As someone that has only been with one person personally, and he was such a selfish uncaring lover, I legit think I would start sobbing in bed if someone was loving and caring towards me and treating me like the most precious thing. Love your writing <3

a/n: thank you so much for requesting...hope you like it!!⭐️

the room was drenched in golden light, the low hum of the bedside lamp the only sound as rafe’s hands roamed your body. his palms were warm against your skin, calloused but soft in their touch, tracing a path down your sides like he was discovering you for the first time. his lips followed, pressing kisses that started at your neck and trailed lower, his breath hot and deliberate.

“you okay?” he murmured, the deep rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your stomach as he paused to look at you.

your lips parted, and though you nodded, the tightness in your throat betrayed you. “yeah,” you whispered. “i’m okay.”

rafe studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly before he leaned down to kiss you again. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but slow, sensual, the kind of kiss that set your skin alight. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as his hand moved lower, slipping between your legs.

“god, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. his fingers stroked you gently, building heat that spread through your entire body, but there was nothing hurried about the way he moved. "my baby, so perfect." he almost purred, everything about him was deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of this—every second of you.

you arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he pressed his body closer to yours. his hips rocked against you, his movements careful but firm, and the pressure sent sparks of pleasure through your veins.

but that was the moment it all became too much.

your chest tightened, your breath hitching as the weight of everything crashed down at once. the tenderness, the patience, the care—it was everything you’d never known, everything you thought you didn’t deserve. and suddenly, the tears came.

a sob tore from your throat, raw and unbidden, cutting through the heated silence like a knife.

rafe froze instantly, his body going rigid above you as his eyes snapped to your face. “y/n?” his voice was sharp with concern, his hands pulling back like he was afraid he’d hurt you. “what—did i—did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, tears spilling freely now as you pressed a trembling hand to your face. “no,” you managed, your voice cracking. “no, you didn’t hurt me. i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, his hands hovering near your arms but not quite touching. his voice softened, though there was still a note of panic in it. “don’t apologize. just tell me what’s wrong. did i do something? did i push too far?”

you shook your head again, harder this time, your tears soaking into the pillow beneath you. “no, rafe. it’s not you. it’s… it’s me.”

his brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he searched your eyes for answers. “what do you mean? you’re crying, baby. i don’t know what to do.”

the raw vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. you forced yourself to take a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you reached up to touch his face. “i’m crying because you’re too good to me,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“you’re too good to me,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve only ever been with one person before, and he… he didn’t care about me. not really. it was always about him—what he wanted, what he could take. i got used to that, and now… now you’re here, and you’re so kind and patient, and i don’t know how to handle it.”

his expression shifted then, his confusion melting into something softer, though there was an edge of anger in his jaw—anger directed not at you but at the person who had made you feel this way.

“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “that guy? he didn’t deserve you. not for a second. and i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll spend every moment proving to you that you’re worth everything. do you hear me?”

tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time they weren’t born of pain. his words wrapped around you like a balm, soothing wounds you hadn’t realized were still bleeding.

“i don’t want to scare you off,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“scare me off?” rafe repeated, his tone incredulous. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “y/n, you couldn’t scare me off if you tried. i just… i want you to feel safe with me. always.”

“i do,” you said quickly, your voice breaking with urgency. “i do feel safe. that’s why i’m crying, rafe. because i’ve never felt this before. no one’s ever… treated me like this before.”

his lips pressed to your forehead, lingering there as he exhaled deeply. “then we’ll go slow,” he murmured against your skin. “as slow as you need. or we can stop altogether. whatever you want, baby.”

“no,” you said firmly, your hands curling around his wrists to keep him close. “i don’t want to stop. i just… needed to tell you. needed you to know why i’m like this.”

his eyes searched yours for a long moment before he nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “okay,” he said simply. “but promise me, if you ever need to stop, you’ll tell me. no matter what.”

“i promise,” you whispered, your voice steadier now.

he kissed you again, but this time it was different. there was still care in the way his lips moved against yours, but now there was something deeper, something hungrier. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hips rolled forward, the friction sending a gasp spilling from your lips.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed wet kisses to your skin. his body moved against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.

and this time, you let yourself feel it. you let yourself drown in the way he touched you, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. because for the first time in a long time, you believed that maybe—just maybe—you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[dieseldame]

𝗗𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗻 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀

Sevika x Fortune Teller! Reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2,1K

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Intrigued by Sevika’s use of a tarot deck, Reader joins her for a game that takes an unexpected turn.

𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: Slow burn, fortune-telling, tarot, romantic tension, domestic fluff, Zaun setting.

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: I’ve recently gotten my hands on my very first tarot deck, and it’s been such a fascinating journey learning the meanings behind the cards and their symbolism. That curiosity sparked the idea for this story—combining Sevika’s no-nonsense attitude with the mystical allure of tarot readings. I wanted to capture the tension, the mystery, and the inevitability of fate in this piece. Enjoy!

The Last Drop was alive with the raucous energy of a late Zaunite evening. The air thrummed with music, laughter, and the click of glasses colliding in toasts. Smoke curled lazily from various corners, and the smell of spilled liquor clung to the damp floorboards. It was a place for the desperate and the bold, where fortunes were gambled and lives sometimes exchanged for coin or glory.

And at the heart of it all sat Sevika.

She leaned back in her chair with the air of someone who owned not just her table but the entire room. A small smirk tugged at her lips as she toyed with a glass of amber liquid in one hand and shuffled her deck with the other. The cards moved between her fingers like extensions of herself, each flip and ripple precise, hypnotic. Around her, a circle of admirers and challengers alike watched with bated breath. Another winning streak. Another pile of coin gathered at her elbow.

For Sevika, it wasn’t about the money—it was about control. She reveled in the predictable chaos of it all: the sweat beading on her opponents' brows, the way their bravado faltered under her calculating stare. She was the gravitational force pulling them all in. And she liked it that way.

But tonight, she felt it before she saw it. A shift in the air.

You had been watching her from the edge of the room, drawn like a moth to a flame. Something about her presence—the easy confidence, the intensity in her gaze—snared you and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t just her skill at the table or the low rasp of her voice as she called her plays. It was something deeper, something unspoken, like the hum of an engine beneath layers of steel.

Before you knew it, you were moving. Through the crowd, past the jeers and cheers of the patrons. Closer to her.

She noticed you immediately, of course. Her eyes flicked up, sharp and assessing.

— Another challenger? — she drawled, her voice cutting through the din like a blade.

— Not quite, — you replied, your voice steady, though your heart raced. You gestured to the seat across from her. — But I’d like a hand.

Sevika arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. She nodded toward the chair. — Your funeral.

The deck moved between her hands again, shuffling with practiced ease. As you sat, you noticed the intricate designs on the cards—less a standard playing deck and more… something else. Tarot cards.

— Interesting choice. — you said, gesturing to the deck.

Sevika’s smirk deepened. — Keeps things interesting. You’d be surprised how much the cards know.

She dealt three cards in a smooth, deliberate motion. One. Two. Three. Face down.

You hesitated before flipping them over. Something about this felt… significant.

The first card revealed itself: The Tower, reversed.

The air seemed to thicken. You swallowed hard, your fingers brushing the edge of the card. — Your past. — you murmured.

Sevika chuckled, low and rough. — Go on, fortune teller. Enlighten me.

You didn’t know what compelled you to continue—whether it was her challenge or the magnetic pull she had on you. But as you spoke, the words came unbidden.

— The Tower reversed represents… chaos avoided. A disaster that didn’t destroy you but left its mark. You’ve rebuilt yourself, piece by piece, but the foundation still trembles. — You glanced up, meeting her gaze. — You’ve survived, but survival came at a cost.

For a moment, something flickered in Sevika’s eyes. Recognition? Pain? It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her usual mask of indifference.

— Lucky guess. — she said, though her tone lacked conviction.

The second card. The Eight of Swords, upright.

— Your present, — you continued, your voice quieter now. — You’re trapped. Not physically, but… mentally. You feel confined by something. Your choices, your loyalty, your circumstances. You’re strong, but even the strongest can feel caged.

This time, Sevika didn’t speak. Her jaw tightened, and her hand curled into a fist on the table. You could feel the tension radiating from her, a storm barely contained.

Finally, the third card. The Lovers, upright.

You froze. The card seemed to hum with its own energy, the vibrant imagery drawing your eye.

— Your future, — you said softly. — A union. Love. A choice that will change everything.

Sevika scoffed, breaking the spell. — Love? Please. I don’t need anyone.

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning forward slightly. — The cards don’t lie.

Her gaze locked with yours, a challenge in her eyes. — We’ll see about that.

The moment stretched, taut and electric. You could feel the weight of her attention, the way it pinned you in place. Finally, you stood, letting the tension break.

As you turned to leave, you glanced over your shoulder, offering her a teasing smile. — I’ll be seeing you, Sevika.

She didn’t reply, but her eyes followed you, dark and unreadable.

Months Later

Sevika’s apartment was quiet, save for the soft clink of pots and pans from the kitchen. The first rays of dawn filtered through the grimy window, casting long shadows across the room.

She stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind her. The weight of the day’s winnings—gold and coin stuffed into various bags—pulled at her arms, but she barely noticed. Her gaze was fixed on the figure in the kitchen.

You stood at the stove, humming softly to yourself as you stirred a pot. The warm, familiar scent of spices filled the air. You looked over your shoulder as she entered, your lips curling into a smile.

— Late night? — you teased, your tone light but knowing.

Sevika grunted, dropping the bags near the door before making her way toward you. She leaned against the doorframe, watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something she wouldn’t dare name.

— You’re cooking again. — she said.

— Someone has to keep you alive, — you shot back, turning to face her fully. — And I’d rather it not be through Zaun’s questionable street food.

Her lips twitched, almost a smile. Almost.

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief. — Come here, Sevika.

She didn’t need to be told twice. Crossing the small space in a few strides, she slipped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. Her body was warm, solid, grounding. You leaned into her, resting your head briefly against her chest.

— Miss me? — you asked, your voice teasing.

— Don’t push it, — she muttered, but the way her hands lingered on your hips betrayed her.

You tilted your head up, catching her gaze. — You know, — you said softly, — I told you the cards don’t lie.

Sevika rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, you leaned up and kissed her. It was soft, almost chaste, but it lingered just enough to make her breath hitch.

When you pulled back, she gave you a look that was equal parts exasperation and affection. —You’re insufferable.

— And yet, — you replied, your grin widening.

Without warning, she scooped you up, setting you down on the kitchen island with ease. Her hands framed your face as she kissed you again, this time with more heat, more intent. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you.

When you finally broke apart, your breathing uneven, your gaze drifted to the counter beside you. There, lying face up, was a single card: The Lovers.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and joyous. — See? I told you.

Sevika smirked, brushing her thumb over your cheek. — Maybe the cards know a thing or two.

And with that, the night gave way to something new, something bright, something undeniably yours.

ㅤㅤㅤ

[mapofthesea]

producers!yoonmin x assistant!reader, fem!reader, bi!yoonmin

genre: smut with some plot, slight fluff

summary: There’s no telling just how long you'd been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain

warnings: swearing, slight arguing/playful name calling, mentions of alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, dom!yoonmin x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don’t do it), they're kind of in a situationship, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, spanking, choking, penetrative sex, some mxm, cum eating, big dick behavior and practice from both of them, hinting at feelings

a/n: this is mature content so if you are under 18 years old or uncomfortable with this, please do not go below the cut! I also do not proofread of edit my work so there may be some typos, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

When you’d first been hired, the request came through your temp agency, and you knew nothing other than the address before you showed up. By then you were no stranger to the life of an assistant; you had fallen into the line of work after failing to find a job in your field. The first few temp jobs were exactly what you expected. Fielding phone calls and delivering coffee to big wigs in uncomfortable, cheap dress clothes became your new normal for several months, so when you arrived at the gray office building you figured you knew what you were in for. 

Yoongi and Jimin proved to be nothing like your previous employers, and their charmingly personable attitudes made them unbelievably easy to work for. At the end of your week as their temp, you had pouted and delayed your departure by attempting to tidy up their shared studio. 

“You’re not a maid, you don’t have to do that.” Yoongi cooly remarked. Even with his ears sticking out endearingly from the sides of his beanie, his dark gaze made you freeze. 

“I-I know, I just- sorry.” You withered under his attention, shifting from foot to foot as you waited for the anxiety to pass. “I’ll go. Bye Yoongi, it’s been super nice working for you guys.” 

You kicked yourself as the wave of disappointment saturated your words. Yoongi hadn’t done anything wrong, and there was no reason to unload your sadness on him. 

“What? I thought they told you?” Yoongi chirped. “We hired you. I expect you to be back tomorrow.” An unbidden smile cracked your face and you couldn't help but notice Yoongi had mirrored it. 

“Oh, oh! Um, see you tomorrow then.” Your heart thumped embarrassingly fast as you skittered out of the office, only seeing the email full of praise from them once you were tucked into the comfort of your bed.

---

“Remember when you used to be nice to me?” You hiss at the man who had just fully sat on your shins, uncaring that you squirm under him. Jimin rolls his eyes at your remark and stays where he is until you snake your legs out from under him. 

“I am nice to you. I pay you.” Jimin coos and pulls your legs into his lap, his familiar touch skittering over your bare calves. After being their one and only assistant for a year and half, your working hours have become more muddled. Business often mixed with friendship, and the lines of professionalism had officially blurred to a proportion you never expected. 

“We also buy you food,” Yoongi cooly adds, plopping himself in the chair across from the two of you and sweeping his hand toward the boxes of empty takeout that dotted the coffee table. A microphone and mixing board live among the mess. You sigh listlessly. They had been working on this new song for hours, tossing ideas back and forth, and although they all sounded wonderful to you, neither of them were happy with anything. 

“Can I go home?” You drawl, feeling the strain of laying on the couch in the way your neck cricks and radiates a sharp headache. You subconsciously rub your fingers into the tightness at the base of your neck. 

“No,” Jimin answers immediately. You sit up straight on the couch and rip your legs from his lap. 

“Why?” It comes out whiny but you’re too tired to care, still rubbing at the knot in your neck. “Yoongi?” For a second you have hope he’ll let you go but he shakes his head, dark wavy strands slipping over his eyes. 

“Sorry, need you here.”

You sputter, disbelief making your eyes go wide. “Okay...can I at least go get you some coffee? More food? Or something?” Sitting in the darkened studio for so long with no definable task was making you feel a bit stir crazy. You had cycled through all of the games on your phone and been scolded for spending too much time on TikTok. Even the book you kept stashed in the bottom of your tote bag was only able to occupy you for so long. 

Yoongi shrugs, half of a grin on his lips. “Dunno. You have an untrained ear, slightly less bias, maybe you’ll add something to the process...” he trails, sinfully pink tongue slipping out between his lips. “You’ve also got potential as a muse.” 

God. It’s painfully cliche but it makes your heart stop and your thighs clench. Suddenly you feel too hot in your shorts and sweatshirt. Jimin tuts. 

“Potential.” He makes a half hearted jab, knowing all three of you are lingering on the same string of memories from just a couple of weeks before. You push the thoughts away and find a spot back on the couch, suddenly conscious of how close you sit to Jimin on the small couch.

He shuffles just close enough that your knees touch in a reassuring way that sends cascading warmth down your spine. Your face is surely flushed but you do your best to pretend you’re unfazed, picking at the skin around your cuticles as Yoongi fiddles with the soundboard.

“Again.” Jimin’s foot taps into the plush carpet in time to the music, and you know you’re in for a long night.

The track runs on a seemingly unending loop, only punctuated by your bosses bickering about technical intricacies and which word choices would serve the song better.

Yoongi fiddles with a new beat and you whine, sagging into Jimin’s side. He welcomes you into him and the intoxicating scent of his cologne has your eyes fluttering. His jaw ticks and you have to bite back the groan of desire as you watch his muscles clench and unclench as he concentrates, fingertips tapping the new rhythm in time against the top of your thigh.

For a moment you wish you were drinking; dumbly wanting to feign needing help opening the soju bottle just to hear Jimin’s little coos of how delicate you are, to have Yoongi gently take back your hair to see your flushed face when he thinks you’ve had too much to drink. Your saliva suddenly feels too thick and your head spins with the barrage of lustful thought. Jimin’s hand feels as hot as lava on your thigh and the sight of Yoongi’s finger circling one of the little knobs with deft precision makes your stomach tumble. 

“I-are you guys hot?” Your voice is raspy as you spring up from the couch, resisting the urge to fan yourself with your hands. Embarrassingly, they both shake their heads and you catch sight of the thermostat set clearly to cool. Yoongi chuckles as he seems to look inside of your head at the neurons connecting as a flush of embarrassment crosses your face. 

“I’ll be right back,” the words are barely out before you leave the room, slipping into the hallway and all but sprinting to the bathroom. Your body feels both too hot and too cold at the same time, and under the harsh overhead light of the bathroom the dark circles under your eyes are prominent, your baby hairs sticking up in wild directions from your scalp. You bend over the sink, gripping onto the cold porcelain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your words echo into the bowl of the sink but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about the potential of either of them hearing you over their music. You stand, glaring at the image of yourself in the mirror for a few seconds before you decide you have probably been hiding in here for a suspicious amount of time. Determined to find a way for them to let you go home, you barrel out of the bathroom and back into the hallway. 

“Hi,” Yoongi’s voice startles you, and his presence in the cramped space is even more alarming. In all the time you've known him, he's never been one to completely abandon his post while in the thick of the production process. 

“...Hi? Are you guys done?” A kernel of hope lights in your chest. If they’re done, you can make your escape to home and deal with the heavy pull of arousal in you core by yourself. Yoongi shakes his head no and raises his hands above him, stretching his arms and allowing your eyes to feast on a strip of creamy skin above his waistband. Your face reheats, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips. He looks divine. 

Yoongi’s eyes follow your own, and a beautiful little smirk sprouts on his face. “Just came to use the bathroom.” His voice rumbles the same way it did when he dropped you off at your doorstep a few weeks ago with a sinful kiss and your knees quiver.

You nod stupidly, tripping over your own feet as you side step the door to allow him passage. He dips his head in a subtle nod and as he approaches and you can smell the musk of his cologne. Despite the step you took away he makes an effort to brush by you, one of his strong hands clasping gently around your own. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until he leaned in close enough that you could pick out his individual eyelashes. His thumb presses into the back of your hand, a firm reminder of the reality of the situation as his words slip into the air between you. 

“We’re both willing to take a break, if you could think of something else more...interesting to occupy us.” His canines sparkle in the light of the hall and you have the overcoming desire to feel them scrape against your neck. 

“B-both of you?” The question all but jumps from your mouth, a product of your disbelief of the last night they had made you feel this way, which you were still partly convinced was just a delusion of your drunkenness. Yoongi nods, strands of hair obscuring his heavy stare. 

“Yes.” He’s gone in a flash, the bathroom door shutting behind him. The thud reverberates through your body and you stand stunned in the hallway, body buzzing with anticipation. Jimin is waiting just beyond the wall, and the image of his legs spread wide on the couch just waiting for you and Yoongi to return springs into your mind. Desire drives your feet and before you know it you’re back in the dimly lit studio, palms sweating when you finally see him again. 

“You’re back.” His voice is cool and level, gaze fixed on you as you approached him. Suddenly emblazoned by the knowledge Yoongi had given you, you nod and edge closer to the couch. 

“Heard you’re looking to take a break?” Jimin’s eyes cloud with the realization of your words, seeing through the facade of your question easily. He swipes his plush bottom lip with his thumb and hums in affirmation. “If you’re willing to provide one?” His voice is thick with lust, sending butterflies through your stomach.

The subtle tilt of his head is all it takes for you to advance toward him, plopping yourself easily onto his thigh, facing the mess of the coffee table. His hands are immediately on your hips; fingers digging into the flesh with an addicting pinch of pain. Your hips rut at the contact, pushing into the muscle of his leg. The pressure sends a spike of arousal down your spine that makes you moan and Jimin responds by curling his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips feel like ice against your hot skin, and he uses the shock to gain control of your hips. 

There’s no use putting up a fight once he has you, manually rocking your core against his leg. Even though you can’t see him, you can hear his little pants of appreciation as your head rolls back against your shoulders. The fabric of your underwear is slick and pulling right against your clit, the layers of friction making you feel like you’re going crazy. Your nails dig into Jimin’s arms, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving. 

The door swings open and even though you know it’s Yoongi you gasp, whipping your head toward him. Your face flushes at being caught but Yoongi simply appraises you, eyes roving over your heaving chest and Jimin’s grip on your hips. The weight of Yoongi’s stare only makes you wetter, slicking the crotch of your cotton shorts a darker shade. Jimin chuckles and moves faster, allowing a consistent grind of pressure against your clit that makes tears edge your eyelids. 

You gasp, arms flailing outward hopelessly. In your scramble your arms clash into Yoongi’s form, scrabbling to hook into the fabric of his hoodie as your clit throbs and your climax approaches. Yoongi’s hands encircle your face, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and stooping down until you can feel his breath against your cheeks. 

“Pretty girl,” he flutters his thumb against your lashes until you open your eyes. “There you are.” His feline gaze turns your brain to liquid, enjoying the attention from Yoongi while Jimin gives you the release you’ve been waiting for. 

“P-please,” you struggle around the words, and don't have the energy to articulate your needs, but Jimin holds your hips still and bounces his leg, baring your pussy down against him directly. Unable to squirm away from the pleasure, a moan rips from your throat into Yoongi’s chest as you come, pitching forward as the pleasure curls your toes. Despite your exhaustion you continue to cant your hips against Jimin’s leg after you come until Yoongi tuts and pulls you up slightly, depriving you of the surface. 

“Look at the fucking mess you made of my pants, baby.” Jimin growls. Your face flushes in embarrassment but you can’t deny that the sight only turns you on more. Knowing that you were the one responsible for the mess on his sweatpants and the subsequent bulge makes your mouth water. On unstable legs you pull from Yoongi’s embrace and lean down over Jimin, giving your other boss a prime view of your ass in the ridden-up shorts doing little to preserve your modesty. His hands are on you immediately, tugging down the fabric of your shorts and panties as soon as you nod your approval. 

“Can I kiss you?” You relish the way Jimin’s cheeks sport a pretty blush at your question as he nods. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your chest as you connect your lips with his own, gently coaxing out the demon of a man you know lives inside- the one who pushed his cock down your throat in the backseat of his car the last time you went out together.  Yoongi’s deft fingers part your folds and you moan into the kiss which only spurs Jimin on. His tongue finds a home in the depths of your mouth at the same time that Yoongi spreads your asscheeks with his hands, humming at the sight of your bared pussy. He pauses all movements, making you twirl your hips impatiently, before releasing a glob of spit that runs hot over your pussy. You shiver, keening at the embarrassingly attractive action. He wastes no time running his fingers between your lips, circling your clit with your combined wetness until your knees go weak. Jimin bites your lip and disconnects the two of you, staring sinfully at the trail of saliva that connects you. 

“Yoongi gonna make you cum again?” The question is rhetoric, but you still nod furiously at the idea. Yoongi laughs heartily, clearly amused by the desperation. 

“Gonna do more than make you cum, baby.” Your head swivels back to catch a look at him sinking onto his knees, easily pushing the coffee table back so he has ample room to work. Your pussy flutters at the idea of him eating you out, a dream that had been plaguing you since you first heard him craft some of his most infamous lyrics. 

You're so enamored at the glassy look in his eyes that you almost miss Jimin asking to shed your sweatshirt. The fabric comes off easily, goosebumps arriving as the garment leaves you. Jimin groans as he’s presented with your tits, hanging perfectly in front of his face as you're bent over for Yoongi. 

Jimin captures one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging at the nub like a man starved. Yoongi dives into your pussy, licking a broad stripe all the way through your folds. His tongue splits your lips and explores every possible inch. 

“Oh god,” the sensation of them both working on you makes you feel lightheaded, in total disbelief of the way the night has gone. “F-feel so good.” You mewl as Yoongi licks tight circles around your clit, Jimin’s teeth scraping against the sensitive skin at the curve of your breast as his hand engulfs the other, pulling and pinching in all the right places. 

“I- can’t fucking, oh my god-” no words seem to do justice to the feeling of pure arousal slipping through you, and the lewd sounds of being devoured sends your mind into a perfectly numb lull. Jimin and Yoongi are everything, everywhere, moving in a sinful tandem of lips and teeth that you don’t think you will ever recover from. The bubbling heat in your stomach rises, aided by the slurps of Yoongi absolutely devouring you, his nose digging into you as he pushes his tongue as deep as possible into your hole. You can only imagine how wet his face will be when he pulls away; chin, cheeks and lips stained with the evidence of your arousal. 

Your legs wobble, knees shaking from the effort of keeping your body upright as your orgasm barrels toward you. Jimin scrapes the top row of his teeth across your nipple as you come, body trapped between two sources of unending pleasure. The short break between orgasms has made you dizzy, keening as Yoongi devours every drop you give him. Over sensitivity rushes in, and the men work faster than your blissed out brain can comprehend.

Once the ringing in your head stops, you can feel the delicate press of Yoongi’s lips against the backs of your thighs: Jimin’s cool fingertips soothing down the bites he created on your chest.

“Come on, pretty. Such a good girl. Come lay down.” Jimin’s hands pull you gently, easily back onto the couch where you had spent countless hours before. The cool leather feels amazing against your heated skin and you quickly resign yourself to pressing the entire front of your body into it, head propped on Jimin’s thigh. This close, there was no mistaking the heavy bulge in the front of his pants. Your fingers twitch, inching toward him.

Yoongi’s dark chuckle makes you pause, peering up to see him standing over you, a satisfied smirk on his face. Just as you’d imagined his chin is covered in a gleam that could only come from being buried deep in your pussy. Your hips twitch against the couch.

“You wanna suck Jimin’s cock? Will you let me sit and watch you make him come?” You nod dumbly against Jimin’s leg, not daring to take your eyes off of Yoongi as he maneuvers himself back into his trusty chair. He sits and makes no secret of palming at himself through his shorts as your mouth waters.

“Please?” You ask, as if they would ever be able to deny you anything. You can feel the sweat drying onto your body, and the heat reigniting in your stomach makes you restless. Wiggling your fingers playfully toward his cock, you fix Jimin with your best pleading stare.

“You know this cock belongs to you, baby. Take it.” Heat flushes your cheeks as you scramble for his waistband. Suddenly seized with an insatiable hunger to have your mouth filled to the brim. Jimin lifts his hips in aid, exposing inches of flawless skin before his cock springs to life, unbidden by any clothing. He takes the break to pull off his top, balling it up and throwing it directly into Yoongi’s face. The older man grumbles in good nature and swats the shirt away. Your hips push against the couch cushion as you reach for him, the weight and warmth of his impressive cock making your head spin. Jimin moans at your touch, encouraging you to pump your hand over him slowly.

He intakes a ragged breath as you speed up, impatient with yourself. “C’mon baby, take it.” He grinds out the words and you shiver, shuffling forward until you can comfortably lower your head over him, wrapping your lips around the tip. It had been only a few weeks since the last time you gave him head, but that didn’t make his length any easier to adjust to. Your eyes water at the intrusion as you push further down, wiggling your tongue against the underside. Jimin’s thighs twitch under your ministrations.

“You’re so fucking good at that, Y/N.”

Emboldened, you push more of him down your throat until you’re fighting against a gag, spit dripping down to the base of his cock. Unable to go further, your hand occupies the rest, pumping in time with the movement of your head. The mess of praise and the burn of Yoongi’s eyes on your body makes you moan around him.

Jimin’s hips immediately jump, pushing further into your mouth. Your eyes widen and tears push forward as Jimin takes full advantage of your mouth, your nails scrabbling at his thighs as you try to clear your mind.

“Shhh, baby. Look so pretty drooling and dumb on my cock. Our girl is so good, isn’t she Yoongi?” Jimin’s voice shakes, a giveaway of his impending orgasm.

“The best girl,” Yoongi’s voice is clipped, and even though your eyes are blurred with tears you’re sure he’s working his hand over his own cock. You moan again, using the vibration to your advantage as Jimin grips your hair, holding you in place.

Your lungs constrict as his whines reach a peak, cock twitching incessantly until he’s coming. You swallow with every spurt he gives you, the bitterness easy to dismiss in the heat of the moment. Jimin’s grip loosens just as the last ropes of his cum shoot out, streaking across your chin and lips. He grins, satisfied at the mess and your performance. His now free hand takes a handful of your ass, pinching it and landing a slap against the flesh.

“Open?” He asks almost sheepishly. You obey easily, putty in his hands as he inspects your mouth to be sure you swallowed everything he gave you. He hums happily at the sight, gathering up the stray bits of cum on your face with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You suck the pad of his thumb clean, eyes heavy with lust as you swirl your tongue around it. Jimin growls, ripping the appendage out to slap your ass a few times in quick succession.

The pain makes your spine curve with pleasure and you almost can’t believe how wet you are again, but Jimin’s fingers quickly dip into your pussy, cooing when he feels your slick coating his fingers. Your own mouth parts in a frustrated groan, annoyingly aware of how achingly empty you are.

“Please fuck me.” Your voice is raw and shaky, and you worry that maybe their inaction means they couldn’t hear you. Jimin’s hand stays steady against the swell of your ass while you wiggle your hips in frustration. Impatient tears well in your eyes as you watch Yoongi slowly remove his hand from his cock; the tip an angry red from all the time he spent playing with it while you sucked Jimin’s cock. It feels like years pass before he even gets up from the chair.

“You wanna get fucked?” His deep voice makes your heart do cartwheels in your stomach. Yoongi’s hand caresses the nape of your neck, lightly combing through the mussed strands there. You nod vigorously, attempting to sit up so that you can convey your need to him even more.

“Please Yoongi, please I’ll do-“ a sharp tug on your hair makes your brain short circuit, words dying in your mouth. Your breathing turns shallow, anticipatory when he uses his primal grip on you to pull your body upwards until you’re sitting up on the couch. From here you are afforded the full view of them both. Jimin’s chest is still heaving from coming, his body covered in a sheen of sweat that only makes his appear more surreal in the dim studio lights. Yoongi had shed both his shirt and bottoms, presumably while you were busy with Jimin. His cock bobs against his stomach, gleaming with precum as he moves. Your heart jumps at the proximity of Yoongi’s body, the way you can see the veins in the arm that holds your hair flex as he pulls your scalp harder. You keen, hips pushing against the air at the sprouting pain. Yoongi laughs, licking at his gleaming canines you want to feel buried deep in your shoulder blade.

His grip holds you still, obedient as your eyes dart wildly between them, hungry to see what their next move will be.

“Such a patient girl for us, right Yoongi?” Jimin’s velvet voice makes you want to cry out and beg for release again, but you bite your tongue so you don’t miss what he says.

“Hmm, very patient.” Yoongi appraises you, sitting at attention, nipples pebbled with your arousal. “Although I think she could stand to wait a bit longer.” Your eyes widen, surprised and momentarily terrified they were going to leave you in the dust.

“No no no no, please don’t!” You can’t stop the tinge of anxiety that spikes through you, the sudden concern that they no longer wanted you if they had each other. Not to mention the burning desire that you knew you wouldn’t be able to quell even with your most favorite vibrator. Hot tears let loose down your cheeks, dripping off of your chin in mere seconds.

“Hey, baby, stop,” Yoongi’s hand releases your hair to tap at your cheek, light enough that you blink through your tears to focus on him. He smiles in the sweet gentle way you’ve come to know means he’s sincere. You can feel Jimin’s calloused fingers brushing gently over your shoulders, curling into the tensed muscles as you ground yourself.

“Do we need to stop?” All of the air in the room gets sucked out with his words, all three of you frozen in time.

“No, no,” You puff out. “Don’t wanna stop.” You grasp his arm, fingernails digging into his milky flesh. “I j-just feel so empty.”

His cat like grin returns at your words, your tears receding into glossy begging eyes. “Oh, baby, you’ll be full of cock in no time. Can you sit pretty for just a few more moments?”

Curious as to why you need to wait, you watch Yoongi intently, but are somehow still shocked when he catches Jimin’s plush lips in an earnest kiss. The younger man sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s frame. The way their lips move together is mesmerizing, and you faintly remember watching them kiss once before, when you were admittedly drunk and thought maybe you were mistaking the passion between them.

Now you knew for sure what you were seeing, and that it was making fresh waves of arousal drip down your thigh. Jimin reaches for Yoongi’s cock, stroking him with playfully light touches you know are meant to drive him crazy. You can see everything from your seat on the couch, and their symphony of moans sends your hand right between your thighs. You rub your clit in time with Jimin’s tugs, making sure to keep the touch just as feather light as it seems to be for Yoongi.

As sensitive as you are, even the simple touch is making your mind go hazy, losing yourself in the moment and the feeling of your own hand. You moan, pressing down into the pressure of your hand: embarrassing close to coming again just from watching your bosses make out.

“I thought I asked you to sit pretty?” Yoongi’s voice is clipped and breathy at having just pulled Jimin’s hand off of him, but it still startles you enough that you rip your hand away feeling like you had been caught.

“I-I’m sorry, it was just,” you stumble on the words, face flushed as you decide on how much you should admit. Jimin raises an inquisitive eyebrow, his cock fluttering back to life.

“Hot?”

Your blush deepens but you nod, hair falling into your face. Yoongi seems less amused at your disobedience, but the dark look on his face only makes you want him inside of you more. You bite back the whimper growing in your throat and still, waiting for instruction.

Yoongi’s steps forward, easily crowding your vision until he’s all you can see. One hand grips your throat, lightly at first, then increasingly hard as he sees the delight in your eyes. The press of his hand over your throat is intoxicating, just the perfect amount of pressure that has your mouth hanging open absentmindedly. You feel good, knowing that you he was going to take care of you. Jimin’s deep groan at the sight reminds you that he’s there just moments before Yoongi breaks your distance and captures your lips in a kiss.

It’s nothing as gentle and sweet as the few you’d shared before. His teeth are immediately nipping into your bottom lip, tongue surging forward into your mouth without abandon. Spit slicks down your chin and over your cheeks and you moan at the feeling, Yoongi practically swallowing you up like you’re the last person on earth. Through it all he keeps control of you by the hand on your neck, only letting up when you’re gasping for air.

You feel oddly vacant without his hand on your throat, but you have a feeling it won’t be the end of your experience with it.

“Such a pretty, desperate little thing. Can’t wait to fill you up, fuck.” Yoongi’s eyes flutter at the thought and before you know it he’s moving you, pressing the length of your body down against the couch. You’re acutely aware that Jimin must have moved to the chair to make room for you, but all thoughts get wiped from your head as Yoongi looms over you.

Your legs part, unashamed for him to see just how wet you are. He grins, kneeling between them and fisting himself a few times.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi, wanna feel you inside.” The stream of consciousness barrels out of you, followed by a string of curses as he obeys and pushes the head of his cock into you. The stretch is intense despite your extreme arousal, but the loving hands caressing your stomach help morph the feeling into pure pleasure. When the clouds of pain start to clear you moan, high and loud, latching onto the cushions under you.

“You look so good split open on my cock.” Yoongi works his hips into a smooth rhythm immediately, eyes honed in on the sight of your pussy swallowing him up. The press of him inside of you is serendipitous, the perfect angle means he’s nudging against your gspot with every single push.

“Prettiest fucking girl, look at you taking cock so well again.” Jimin is suddenly beside you, hands groping your tits again. You keen, overwhelmed with the sensations as white hot pleasure burns through you. Yoongi speeds up, bracing his foot for more leverage on the perfect angle as he pounds into you.

“So f-full,” you gasp out, tears of pleasure running into your hairline. Your clit throbs for attention, the final thing you need to fall headfirst into that wonderful pleasure. You gasp and writhe, pushing your hips upward to meet his thrusts.

“If you don’t stop that I’m gonna come right inside of you.” The words are a warning but your pussy immediately reacts by gripping his cock tighter. A broken moan spills from his mouth and he growls.

“Wan’ it.” The words come out soft, strangled by the loud squelching of your pussy, but Jimin is close enough to hear. He turns toward you, smiling with the intensity of a million suns.

“You want him to come inside of you? Fill that pussy up and make you ours?” Jimin is sure to speak loud enough that Yoongi will hear, but the man drilling into you looks pointedly only at your face, awaiting his confirmation. You look between them both, shivering with need.

“Yes, wanna have Yoongi come in me,” you lick your lips, “please, and,” You pause as Yoongi swipes his finger across your clit after hearing your affirmation. The last bits of your sanity are about to be washed away with your orgasm, but you breathe through it.

“W-wait!” You yell, Yoongi stilling as well as he can so close to his orgasm.

“Want Jimin too.” You gasp, barely trusting your words. The man grins, placing a kiss on the swell of your breast.

“Of course, baby, I’m so fucking hard right now I can’t imagine not coming all over these pretty tits.”

Tears of frustration brim again, hormones going crazy.

“No, in me.” You whine, petulant at the idea of him not coming inside you tonight. Both of their eyes widen, staring at you like you had just unlocked the secret to eternal life. Yoongi’s thrusts return with vengeance, finger circling your clit deftly.

“Can’t get enough of it, huh? Such a little slut that just one man coming in you isn’t enough?” You nod as his cock twitches, moments away from your own blinding orgasm. Jimin’s lips are devouring your neck, seemingly emblazoned by your admission. It only takes a few more swipes of Yoongi’s nimble fingers before you come, back arching off of the couch like a woman possessed.

The sounds and curses that leave you are barely human and essentially decipherable as your body warms under the glow of an intense orgasm. When Yoongi finally comes, your pussy gripping him tightly so he doesn’t leave, he continues strumming at your clit until your nerves feel set on fire.

“Good girl, taking all my fucking come.” Yoongi praises you as he finally pulls out, watching his come slip out with him before he retreats to stand beside you. Your head is still in the clouds, mind numb from absolute pleasure as Yoongi pats your thighs so he can get out from between them.

Jimin brushes the sweat slicked strands of hair off of your forehead, leaning close enough to him that you can see his individual eyelashes.

“Still got it in you? Want another load?” Your stomach flips, pussy clenching at the idea and you nod so hard it makes your neck hurt. Yoongi shuffles up until he’s next to your head, obviously sleepy as he plops down onto the floor with a lazy grin. He kisses your cheek playfully as Jimin moves.

He wastes no time in assuming the same position Yoongi had just left. Pliant and fucked out, you give him an exhausted smile as you watch him line up and push into your entrance.

“Still so fucking tight even though you just got railed. So willing to have two cocks back to back.” Jimin’s voice burns through you, low and sexy in a way you rarely get to enjoy. His eyes twinkle as you nod, gasping at the length of his cock. He begins his onslaught even faster than Yoongi had, pushing through your walls with a blindingly perfect rhythm.

“F-Fuck me so well,” you slur, grasping for his arms as he drills into you. Jimin is gasping, clearly close to his own end as you start to feel the hazy warmth of an orgasm come on. Yoongi kisses you even more as your moans heighten, sure not to cover your mouth so that they get to hear every sound you can give them. “You’re gonna look so pretty full of me and Jimin’s come, so fucked out and dripping.”

Even without any attention to your clit his words have you just seconds away from coming, and you warn Jimin of this.

“Already gonna come without me even having to touch your little clit? So fucking wet and desperate that just my cock will do it?” Your head spins, eyes tipping back into your head. His hips stutter, faltering for just a second as your knees lock, pushing his cock even further into you until you’re coming. Your eyes squeeze shut as you scream your throat raw calling his name and begging for his come.

You can’t stop the tears that spill out of you even after you feel him empty into you, the weight of his body pressing into your own as he makes sure not to waste a drop. You pant together, chests rising and falling in time. The way your skin sticks together doesn’t even bother you right now, but Jimin moves just slightly and the cool air rushes in.

You mumble, still working on feeling like a human again.

“What’s that?” It’s Yoongi, who’s still sitting by your side, laying his head against Jimin’s toned bicep.

“Cold.” You try, voice absolutely wrecked. You poke at Jimin’s side. “Heavy, too. Move.” You wiggle beneath him and he sits up, giggling at your sudden attitude. He’s still lodged inside of you, his and Yoongi’s come slowly leaking out of you and onto the couch, but this somehow feels just as normal as your usual day at work. Another chill passes through your body and Yoongi tuts, striding order to the thermometer. You and Jimin both watch his naked form as he goes, cranking the number up so that the room gets hotter.

“Told you we keep it too cold in here,” he mutters to Jimin, who shrugs and looks down at the mess between your legs. You flush.

“Sorry about the couch.” Jimin laughs as he pulls out, clearly still a little aroused at the sight of come pouring out of you.

“Fuck the couch. It’s your spot anyway.” His fingers dance over your pussy and you whine, shaking your head and clamping your thighs shut.

“Too sensitive.” It’s simple, and he nods easily, slipping off of the couch. You lose sight of him for a second before he’s back, slipping your sweatshirt back over your head. The warmth instantly cures you, putting a satisfied smile on your face. Yoongi reappears from what you assume to be the bathroom with a damp towel, silently asking your permission before gently cleaning you up.

Your legs twitch and you have to physically bite back a moan when he runs the fabric over your clit, but you’re happy to be cleaned and have him help you into your shorts. He hands the towel off to Jimin as you sit up, pointedly looking away from the mess on the couch.

“Shit, forgot about that!” Yoongi springs forward, shirt halfway on. He leans over the coffee table and flicks off a switch, the recording equipment going dead. His face blanches as he looks over at you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t turn it off before we…” his hands wave uselessly in front of him. Jimin, at least dressed, looks equally mortified.

“We can delete it all! I promise, we won’t even listen to it again! I’ll do it right-“

Your laugh bubbles out of you and stops them both in their places.

“I don’t care, guys.” Their faces twist in confusion. Surely you wouldn’t want them to keep it? “You were stuck on the song anyway. Use it as the backtrack or something.” You shrug, taking supreme delight in the surprise on their faces.

“You’re so fucking hot.” Jimin groans, appreciative, and you glow under their eyes. He immediately dashes over to the computer, locating and examining the file. Yoongi finishes redressing and even wipes off the couch before bundling you into his chair with him. His hands comb through your matted hair and examine the marks on your neck until he deems you to be okay.

“Thanks for the song inspiration.” He chuckles, mouth tucked against the nape of your neck.

“Happy to help. Let me know the next time you need some new ideas.” Despite your sleepiness the idea makes you squirm, to which Yoongi groans.

“I have a feeling we’ll be needing lots of new ideas. For a very long time.” Maybe you’re crazy, or cock hungry, but you swear you feel him twitch against your ass. “But for now you should probably go home.” You both watch Jimin as he fiddles with some instrumentals, layering them over the peaky audio the three of you recorded on the desktop before popping on his headphones.

Yoongi sighs. “You’re sleepy, and if you stay here any longer while we mix this you’re definitely not gonna be walking tomorrow.”

[asheanon]

✨ Original Lore Time ✨

Original lore time, I repeat, it is time for more strictly original story material lore! 🌎 (Someone asked what that white line in the back is and you may think "oh, it's just a little white line, what all could there be to say about a little white line?" And the answer is a lot. Enough to drop a cut over!)

This is the same world in this old WIP - on the planet itself vs. the iconic moon that the "Moon" part of Fall To The Moon refers to. And this "line" does extend from the planet to the moon!

There are a number of somewhat "psychedelic" features to be found in this setting, be it in that AU or in Anon's story itself. And that "line" is one of this area's more notable "psychedelic" features.

This "line" is a natural phenomenon known as the Sands of Time. Appearing as a ray of light connecting the planet and its largest satellite/moon, it is actually a long band of luminescent sand, rendered completely motionless by what can only be theorized as an actual slowing of time (as the lore currently stands.) It's like a north pole, but with "wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey" stuff!

The band represents the pole of the pole; expanding further upon its radius, time gradually speeds back up and finds a more natural flow. This effect is not just limited to sand, however! One of the reasons it has been such a struggle to study and more closely inspect is due to how it unconditionally slows all local movement, including entities that may approach. (That is one theory of two, however.)

The other theory as to why it is such an enigmatic subject expresses that time does not perceptibly slow down the closer one approaches, however, it still actually does. Those who have paid the Sands of Time a visit are said to have never returned not because they didn't, but their return is so far into the distant future due to the time warping that they may as well be perceived as MIA.

Some sand has inadvertently been collected and taken in for study as it is cast off and sweeps across the planet. Despite being known as the "Sands of Time," it is revealed that the sand itself doesn't seem to have any time-altering effects. Either the effect is tied to that connection between the planet and the moon or is lost when the sand is cast off - it does seem to lose some of its glow and luster when removed. Much like Etherealism, its effects may also seem to extend beyond the corporeal and elude some study. There may be more to the sand than its physical form as well.

It is to that end that there is no telling the amount of explorers, scientists and other brave and inquisitive souls who have doomed themselves to an unknown fate by daring to approach the Sands of Time, looking for answers...

Welp... It's a start. WIPs I'll never be able to explain, part 276. (Had to frame it all funky just so it wouldn't be a blurry mess, it's so looonngggg...)

[aventurineswife]

Hii can i request kafka with a funny and comedic reader? like jessica and roger rabbit type of dynamic, kafka swooning after reader because they makes her laugh... no pressure tho, thank you!

“They make me laugh”

Summary: Kafka finds herself inexplicably drawn to you—a comedic, chaotic whirlwind of absurdity. Despite her usual composed demeanor, your relentless antics and quick wit break through her cool exterior, leaving her laughing and swooning in equal measure.

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Humor/Comedy, Fluff, Light Romance, Opposites Attract, Femme Fatale x Chaotic Fool, Slow Burn(?).

Kafka sat in the dimly lit corner of the Stellaron Hunters' hideout, one hand swirling the crimson liquid in her glass, the other flipping through Elio's latest vision notes. A quiet, calculated serenity surrounded her—until you waltzed in.

“Kafkaaaa!” you hollered, your voice ringing off the walls like a loose bell. “You gotta see this! I invented the world’s first sentient whoopee cushion! It talks back! Look, look!”

Before she could respond, you plopped the deflated contraption onto a nearby chair. The device let out a dignified harrumph before stating, in a monotone, “You’ve made poor choices, sitting here.”

A snort escaped Kafka’s lips. The wine glass paused mid-air, a hint of mirth breaking her perpetually composed demeanor. She eyed you with that dangerously alluring gaze of hers, one brow slightly raised.

“Let me guess,” she said, voice dripping with silky amusement, “you’ve already tested it on Bladie?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said proudly. “It told him, ‘For someone so sharp, you’re a little flat.’ He chased me for three corridors, Kafka. Three. Worth it.”

Her laugh was soft but genuine, and the corner of her lips quirked up into a smirk. Most people feared Kafka for her cool, calculating nature. But you? You seemed entirely immune to her enigmatic aura, wielding absurdity like a weapon. She found it... fascinating.

“Do you ever take a break from being ridiculous?” she teased, leaning forward, chin resting delicately on her hand.

“Do you ever take a break from looking so good in spider patterns?” you shot back without missing a beat.

That caught her off guard. Her laugh came unbidden this time, smooth and melodic, a sound so rare you couldn’t help but grin wider. “You’re impossible,” she murmured, shaking her head.

“Impossibly funny, impossibly charming,” you listed with mock seriousness, counting on your fingers. “And impossibly good at finding all your weak spots.”

Kafka raised a perfectly shaped brow. “My weak spots? Careful, dear. I don’t take kindly to threats.”

“Not a threat!” you said, holding your hands up in mock surrender. “I just happen to know you melt like a popsicle in a furnace every time I say something stupid. Admit it. You’re smitten.”

She leaned back in her seat, fingers steepled. Her smirk grew more dangerous, yet her gaze softened in a way that only you seemed to elicit. “And if I am?” she asked, voice velvet-smooth.

You blinked, taken aback. Then, with a dramatic swoon that could’ve put any opera diva to shame, you staggered. “She admits it! Oh, woe is me, the dazzling lady with the wine hair is utterly captivated! Someone fetch me a fainting couch!”

Kafka rolled her eyes, though her laughter rang out once more, unrestrained and genuinely amused. You had the uncanny ability to crack through her carefully constructed façade, and she found herself enjoying it far more than she should.

“Come here, you absolute fool,” she said, tugging on your arm until you stumbled closer. She pressed a quick, teasing kiss to your cheek, leaving you momentarily stunned.

“See?” she murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I do like my comedy sharp.”

You grinned like a Cheshire cat. “And I like my mysterious femme fatales giggling at my antics. Guess we’re a perfect match, huh?”

Kafka only hummed, that dangerous smirk never leaving her face. “Oh, you have no idea.”

[veltana]

Groupie - Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fan!Reader

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader ✦ Word count: ~3,6k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Avenger!Bucky, Avenger!Fan!Reader, secret crush, secret hero, fluff, smut, the tiniest bit of angst, misunderstandings, piv sex, breeding kink (I'm not messing around with this one), talk of getting reader pregnant, pet name (Bunny), dirty talk, sex with feelings, multiple orgasms (for both), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: Since joining the Avengers you've been avoiding Bucky Barnes, afraid of what would happen if he ever learned the truth. ✦ Note: I have no idea how to tag this, so if I missed something please let me know. I don't know where this came from so just... it is what it is! This is also posted on AO3.

Masterlist | AO3

Stark called a meeting at the workshop in the evening to show off one of his new inventions that could aid them in the field. As you stand in the back and watch, Bucky comes up beside you, and just as always you discreetly take a small step to the side. Everyone, including Bucky, assumes you dislike him, and you are happy to keep up that front since admitting to the truth would be unprofessional and cause a lot more trouble than avoiding him.

He gives you a sideways glance but doesn’t mention it, he’s used to it by now. Unfortunately, you are still close enough to smell his cologne and it makes your pulse pick up. Unbidden images of being under him, smelling his sweat mixed with the perfume while he takes you apart appear inside your mind. Stark says something but you can’t concentrate with Bucky so close. Shifting even further to the side, he glances at you again and his brows draw together.

"I can go stand somewhere else if it bothers you so much," his tone is annoyed but low, to not disturb the demonstration. "No, it's fine," you mumble. "You forget I can hear your heart beating,” he points out. “And it sounds like a bunny rabbit backed into a corner by a wolf." That doesn't make you any calmer. If he can hear that, can he smell how aroused he makes you every time he gets close? "Sorry, I-" but your mouth has turned dry as a desert. You avoid speaking to Bucky as much as possible because you fear you will just make a fool out of yourself. As you’re doing right now.

"I never understood what you have against me," he crosses his arms, eyes on Stark's display. "Did I hurt someone close to you back in the day or are you afraid I'll revert and start killing again?" Shame fills your chest. You want to turn to him and hug him, explain that it’s not in any way like that. For years you have admired Bucky and when you had gotten the promotion to work with the Avengers your friends had teased you mercilessly about finally meeting your idol, but when you did and you realized that he was everything you had ever dreamed of you got scared. If he knew your secret he would most likely never speak to you again.

"It's not like that," you whisper, finally daring a look at him, but regretting it right away. His beautiful blue eyes are watching you. Quickly you avert your gaze. "You can't even look at me." And that is true. You always look at something else when Bucky is in the same room as you. The only time you allow yourself to admire him is when he's caught up in something else when there is no chance his attention will shift to you.

Just the small amount of it he is giving you right now is almost unbearable. You want to climb him, wrap your legs around his waist, grab his hair, and crush your lips to his. It's dangerous to be so close to him so you do the only thing you can. "I should go, I'm sorry," you mumble and turn on your heel, quickly exiting the workshop and heading for the elevators.

When you're inside your room you breathe a sigh of relief. That had been a close call. Your insides feel like melted ice cream and your knees get weak at remembering how he watched you. The only problem is that maybe you aren’t as smooth at avoiding him as you think, since he had noticed. You'd have to fix that somehow.

Kneeling at the side of your bed you reach in under it to pull out the box. It's discreet and if someone else found it they would probably assume it would be full of sex toys and the like. But a box full of toys would be mildly embarrassing compared to the actual content of the box.

Inside is a big photo book. Leaning against the bed frame you place it on your lap, opening it to the first page. You've tried to keep it in chronological order over the years and the first page contains a few news articles from the war where either the Howling Commandos or Bucky himself appear. You love to see how it starts with small mentions but then the articles grow bigger and bigger. It had been hard to track down some full spreads, not to mention expensive as fuck, and some things you were still saving up for.

Then there are the articles about the Winter Soldier. They needed to be in there, but you never read them. It was before anyone knew the truth about the mind control and the years of torture. The text described him as a killing machine with no morals, not caring who he hurt to get to his price. You quickly skip past those pages.

Your favorite part is the last bit of the album. Recent interviews and photoshoots with the super soldier, talking about his life and his struggles. Not to mention the stylists always made sure to show off his physic, be it suits or sportswear.

Inside the box are also a replica of his dog tags and the hat he'd worn with his uniform. Putting the tags over your head you play with them between your fingers, remembering how they look around his neck. In your previous apartment, they'd been hanging on the wall and your friends had joked about it being a shrine. Now you are too scared to have it on display. If someone sees it they will think you are insane.

You're startled from your musings by a knock on the door and without much thinking you put the book on the bed before opening it.

Bucky is standing on the other side. The demonstration must have ended. "What is your problem with me?" The words fail you as your heart starts hammering. He is too close, but if you back away he will probably take it as an invitation to come in and that would be disastrous. "I have barely spoken to you since you got here but you've managed to make it very clear how much you detest me. I just want to know why." He's annoyed and desperate at the same time. "Can I do something to fix it? I can't have a team member be afraid of me when we go out into the field and I… are those my dog tags?"

Ice rushes into your veins as you realize you forgot to take them off and you quickly cover them with your hand. "No," you lie. "They have my name on them." "No, they don't." "Are you serious?” Now he’s looking more mad. “Tell me what the fuck is going on right now."

You fucked up. You could keep on lying, close the door in his face, and never speak to him again. Ask for a transfer. Or you could show him. And then ask for a transfer. Because whatever you did you would not keep your job after this.

With trembling hands you open the door, releasing your hold on the dog tags and gesturing for him to come inside. "Sit," you murmur and when he does you place the book in his lap. He glances at you and for the first time you hold his gaze. This might be the last time you see him so you might as well take advantage of the moment. It will never happen again. "Open it."

As he hesitantly opens the first page you slip off the dog tags and place them into the box before sitting down too, with a decent amount of space between the two of you.

While he's occupied you study his face and try to commit it to memory. Bucky Barnes, in your room, on your bed, reading your album. It's a dream come true. Though you had hoped it would be after sex while you were still naked in bed, and you could take it out and show him. But this works too.

"This is extensive,” he sounds impressed and you hope he is. You wouldn’t say it’s your life's work but it’s something you worked hard on and is proud of. "I know." "When did you do this?" He looks at you. You shrug in response, "Over the years." "Years?" "I started it when I was in my early twenties.” "How did you find everything?" "The internet can be a wonderful place with like-minded people." "I can't imagine what it could have cost you." "I prefer not to think about it," you laugh.

He glances down into the box and then bends down to pick up the hat. "Please tell me this isn't the original one." "Oh god no, it's a replica!" "Can I try it?" "Please do!" Bucky puts the hat on, tips it to the side, and turns to you with a smile. It's impossible to not smile back when he looks so handsome. "Still fits you." "Feels odd. We used to wear them all the time, but I guess I've gotten used to a life without hats." He removes it and puts it back into the box before picking up the dog tags.

"I have a feeling you don't have these things because you hate me." "I don't hate you, it's quite the opposite." "Then why keep avoiding me?" You twist in your spot uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. "It's embarrassing. I never thought I would actually get to meet you when I started this collection." "I honestly feel honored. I'm not usually the person people think it's worth remembering." You tilt your head, "I do." "I can see that."

For a moment you look at each other and you get to experience what it feels like to drown in his eyes. Those blue magical pools that you've only ever studied on printed paper or through a screen. It could never compare to the real thing. Fearing you're going to say something more stupid you take the book from him. "So now you know," you say. "If you want me to transfer I'll happily put in a request. You were never meant to see it and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable around me." "No, that won't be necessary," he assures you. "But there is one thing I still don't get."

When you look up from your lap he's moved much closer. Too close again. His presence fills your senses in a way no one else has ever done. "What?" your voice almost cracks. "Why do you move away as soon as I get close?" His voice is low, as if not to scare you. With a wobbly laugh, you put the book down in between you and Bucky, scooting a bit away, studying the bedsheets.

"As you're doing now." "It's just, I like my personal space," you explain. "And you won't look at me." A single finger lands under your chin and tilt your head towards him. He's touching you. Bucky Barnes is touching you.

"Are you sure you aren't scared, Bunny?" "Ye-yeah," you swallow. "Because I think your heart is about to burst out of your chest." He moves the book out of the way and slides right up to you, until his leg is pressed against yours. The finger is still holding you in place, craning your neck to look at him. Your body flushes with heat. Now he's really touching you. "So what is it then?" There is a teasing in his voice, as if he knows but he wants to hear you say it.

Your tongue wet your dry lips and his focus shifts to that for a second. Opening your mouth to give him an answer, nothing comes out, not even the truth. "Bunny, you better answer me."

Finally, you find your voice. "I'm scared I won't be able to control myself," you confess. "And what would happen if you lost control?"

You close your eyes. You can't look at him when you speak. "I'll drop to my knees and beg to suck your cock." Bucky inhales sharply. "Or climb into your lap and beg you to fuck me. I'd let you do anything to me just to get a small taste. I'd ask you to use my body as you wanted and I won't need anything in return." "Fuck, Bunny. You have a dirty mind." "Sorry, I can't help that you smell so good and look so hot, it's too much."

His finger on your chin changes to a grip and you open your eyes, meeting his. They're filled with greed for something you don't understand. "You'd let me fuck you?" "Yes" "How about coming inside you?" "God yes!" "When was the last time you had tests done?" "Maybe a month ago? They were clean." "Any partner since then? Are you on birth control?" You hesitate for a moment. "Bunny?" "No… to both" Bucky laughs. "You would let me breed you, Bunny? Fuck you raw until you're bursting with my cum?"

The moan slips out unbidden. Just the thought of his raw dick inside you. Playing pregnancy roulette. It makes you so hot. "Yes, I would Bucky."

"Take off your clothes, lay on your back." You stare at him. "Is something unclear?" "You? And me? You want to have sex with me?" Something crosses over Bucky's face. "You don't have to." He reassures you. "No! I want to! I just… I never thought you'd want to. With me." "Well, you're wrong. And if you want to with me you better do as you're told."

Scrambling to take off your clothes you watch Bucky as he stands up and slowly starts doing the same. He's only gotten his shirt off by the time you're naked. "Spread your legs, let me see."

You pull your knees up and let them fall to the side. The stickiness from your arousal has already coated the inside of your thighs. You're sure you've never been this wet before in your life.

"Bunny's got a cute little pussy on her." Bucky's smile is predatory like he is an actual white wolf stalking its prey. He's down to his boxers now, his erection outlined through the cotton. It's big. "Don't look scared, we'll make it fit, I promise."

When his boxers are off too you can't help but stare but you’re more excited than anything else. The pulse in your cunt doesn't care if it’s going to hurt, there is only one thing on your mind. "I want your cock Bucky," you tell him. "Don't worry, you'll get it." He crawls on top of you, keeping his weight on his forearms and his body off of yours. "But I'm going to kiss you first."

His lips are soft but his kiss is demanding. It leaves no room for hesitation that he doesn't want you. Quickly he works your mouth open and moans when his tongue finds yours. You put your hands in his hair, guiding him to where you want his mouth. Then he descends your body, nipping at your jaw, sucking on your neck before finding your breasts. One hand is warm and the other is cold as he presses them together, caressing the nipples with his thumbs, making you keen and shudder. He uses his mouth to pull more sounds from you, licking, sucking, and dragging his teeth lightly against the stiff peaks, until your naked pelvis bucks up against his upper body, trying to find friction for the need he causes in you.

"You need something, Bunny?" "I need you to fuck me!" "It would be better for you if you come first." "No, I need it now! Stretch me with your cock Bucky, please I need it so bad!"

In a second he's kissing you again, feverishly, and this time he lets his body sink down on yours, his thick shaft brushing your wet center, making both of you shudder. Bucky reaches down and uses his hand to guide the tip to your opening. "Tell me if it hurts and we'll stop." "Promise." You relax into the bed, spreading your legs, and watch Bucky's face as he pushes into you.

He's big, but you're also incredibly wet. Your body slowly gives for his intrusion. There is a slight sting but it quickly turns into pleasure as he fills you. "So big!" you moan and experimentally move against him. "Fuck, Bunny, this is the tightest pussy I fucking ever felt. You're going to be the death of me." "Make me come first, then you can die." With a grunt, he pulls back and pushes in, carefully to get you used to him, but it’s not what you want or need.

"Move, please move. Fuck me Bucky!" you beg and he does. Not in your wildest fantasies could you predict this sensation. So full. So good. Bucky groaning above you. His warm skin under the palms of your hands. The sound of your arousal mixing with the sound of skin meeting skin.

"I'm already leaking into your cunt Bunny. It feels so good." "Yes, Bucky!" "Did you know I have almost zero recovery time? I just need a quick breather after coming before I can go again." With a moan, you wrap your legs around him. "I'm going to fill you with so much cum you'll be drunk on it." He leans down until he's right by your ear.

"I'll breed you all night long. And I'll continue to do it every night until you're pregnant." "Bucky!" "You fucking like that, I can feel how tight you get!"

Shaking your head you try to deny it, but carrying his baby would be the ultimate fantasy. "Please make me full of you! I want a baby Bucky. Make me fucking pregnant with our child!"

"Dirty! Fucking! Mind!" He says through gritted teeth, punctuating every word with a particularly hard thrust. "More!" You cry as the pressure inside you builds. Bucky quickly sits up on his knees, grabbing your hips, pulling you onto his dick as he thrusts inside you. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" you chant. "Make me come, Bucky! Please! More!"

"Bunny!" he warns. "You better fucking come before me, I can't hold it with your tight cunt squeezing me like that!" Desperately you start rubbing your clit and a moment later everything explodes through your body. With an unearthly wail, you find your release and Bucky quickly follows, cursing and roaring while he pumps you full.

The world is unsteady for a moment but then it rights itself. Bucky's head is thrown back as he heaves in lungfuls of air and you're no better where you're lying. He's not soft inside you yet and maybe he won't even go down.

"That was…" you begin but then shake your head with a stupid smile on your lips. "Better than you thought it would be?" He asks. "A million times better." "Good because we're not done." He releases your hips to once again lean down over you, kissing you much softer this time, moving his hips slower. It makes you keen into his mouth with the delicious stretch and the wetness of his release adding to the feeling. It leaks onto the sheets as he fucks you but you don't mind. At the end of all this, your sheets will probably need to be burned.

"Bunny, fuck, Bunny, look at me," Bucky demands and you do. He's close enough that you share a breath. "So fucking pretty. My little groupie." Despite the situation you laugh. "Aren't you?" "Absolutely Bucky, I'm your groupie." "Only mine?" "Of course! I don't have any more boxes under the bed." "Good." He rests his head at the crook of your neck, his hot breath ticking your skin and you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of him surrounding you. Soon another orgasm works its way through your body. You don't scream this time, instead, you whisper in his ear how fucking good it feels, how he's filling you so well, and how you want him to breed you.

Moments later Bucky bursts inside you for the second time. He takes a minute before he rolls the two of you over so you're on top. The strength in your body is nearly gone but Bucky's serum keeps him going. And he keeps his promise. All through the night, he fills you and by the time the sun starts rising, he pulls one last weak orgasm from you before stopping.

"So fucking pretty," he muses as he spreads you open to watch the cum run out of you, before pushing some of it back in with his fingers, making you whine. With a chuckle, he wipes it off on the sheets, and then looks around. "I don't think we can sleep in this bed, Bunny. Where's your pajamas?" It's a miracle you're still awake but you point to the clothes on the chair. Bucky finds you some underwear and dresses you, before carrying you to his room. There he makes you take a shower but afterward, he doesn't let you get dressed again. "I need your skin against mine," he says as he spoons you.

Several hours later you wake up, sore but in the best way. The bed is empty and you must have slept through Bucky waking up. With a giggle, you roll onto your back and that's when you feel something around your neck. Confused, you look down and find his dog tags against your bare skin. The smile on your face must be really stupid as you fiddle with them between your fingers. Who could have known meeting your hero would turn out like this?

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Coalescence part 2/3

Part One

Summary:

She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter. The question rises once again, unbidden. What are we? AKA: She works with Viktor for seven years, she is in love with him for five of them.

Contains: she/her pronouns, supremely slow burn, sharing a bed, canon typical illness stuff.

Word Count: 12,181

Read on AO3

The next year feels a lot slower than the last few had, without the relentless push from the council to get the Hexgates finished, work stagnates as the three of them try to figure out what to make next. A few months in she gets sick of sitting on the other side of the room and goes through the arduous process of rearranging the furniture. She has to move Jayce’s desk first and then the blackboard and then she finally has enough room to squeeze herself in, the fact that the only available spot is next to Viktor’s desk is only serendipitous, at least that’s what she tells herself. Jayce seems pretty excited about the change when he comes in, that maybe the rearrangement might be enough to finally get all their synapses firing. 

Viktor, by comparison, sits quietly next to her and doesn't even acknowledge the change for the first few hours, just scoffs when she asks to borrow his ink for her pen, “If you’ve only moved your desk next to mine for access to my stationary then I’ll be very upset.” despite his words, he slides it over to her desk, “You’re lucky I’m so accommodating.” 

She wants to say something about how his stationary is the last thing on her mind, but instead, she just laughs and replies, “Very lucky, thank you.”

A few weeks after her impromptu rearrangement, she comes into the lab to find a new desk sitting where hers once was and more surprisingly, a person sitting at the desk. Shocked, she lurks in the doorway while trying to figure out what to say, only for the visitor to notice her and immediately jump up from her chair and rush over to greet her. 

“Hi! I’m Sky! It’s so great to meet you!” She says, grabbing one of her hands between two of her own, “I’m the new lab assistant! Viktor hired me!” She blinks for a moment, trying to find a way to reply that doesn't make her seem utterly repellant, “I thought I was the lab assistant…” is what came out, and it wasn't the energy she had been aiming for. 

Sky laughs, “You’re funny. It’s nice to know you three have a sense of humour.” she finally releases her hand before readjusting her glasses, “If you ever need anything, I’ll either be here or in the botany lab down the hall. I’m going to study as much as I can while I have the chance, but I’ll always be nearby.”

When Viktor eventually arrives and sits at his desk, she scoots her chair a little closer to his and whispers, “Why’d you hire another assistant?” “Sky’s an old friend and we’re going to need the help-” he pauses a moment and then spins his chair to face her, “Why did you say another assistant?” “Because I’m your assistant.” Viktor lets out a disbelieving laugh, “ You haven’t been our assistant in a very long time.”

Her heart thrums nervously in her chest, and all she can let out is a weak little, “...huh?”

“You’re a partner.” Viktor clarifies as he rests his hand on her forearm, “A friend .” a beat, his thumb lightly rubbing against her bare skin, “and you always made terrible coffee, it was time to let you off the hook”

She laughs and playfully slaps his hand away.

It’s only a month after that when Jayce has the idea that changes the trajectory of their research for the foreseeable future. They had all been sitting at their desks, doing barely any work. It was still just under a year before the next progress day and without an active request from the council, there wasn’t all that much pressure for them to create something. She had been entertaining herself with a paper ball that she was tossing up into the air, Jayce was flicking paperclips into an empty crate on the other side of the room, and even Viktor had been absently spinning around in his chair for the past hour, which was definitely out of the ordinary for him. 

“Maybe we need a change of scenery?” Jayce suggests, hanging his head low when he finishes his last box of paperclips. 

She scoffs, tossing the paper ball in the air once again, “It’s not like we can take the research outside with us.”

“Even if we could, it would be far too dangerous to take any of the crystals out of the lab.” Viktor supplies, completing another rotation on his chair, “They are too volatile.”

Jayce sighs, “I didn’t literally mean moving the lab equipment outside, guys. I just thought we could take a walk and-” 

When the paper ball finishes its most recent arc into the air, she doesn’t bother catching it again, instead pointing a finger in Jayce’s direction, “That’s your idea face! You have an idea!”

Viktor freezes mid-spin, quickly rotating himself to face Jayce whose eyebrows are drawn tight. After another moment just sitting there and staring straight forward, Jayce leaps up from his chair and starts frantically pacing back and forth. 

“Oh yes!” Viktor says enthusiastically, turning to look at her over his shoulder, “He definitely has an idea.”

Jayce laughs breathlessly and then stalls in the middle of the room, erupting into a passionate and wildly gesticulated speech about finally being able to bring Hextech to the people instead of just serving the whims of the council, about working on smaller devices that could be mass-produced and (importantly) would have a far shorter development time than something as large scale as the Hexgates. As he spoke, she couldn’t resist shifting her gaze to Viktor, leaning forward on her desk to get a better angle on his face and nearly melting at the impassioned warmth in his eyes, the delectably sweet tug of his lips. 

“Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Viktor begins, trying not to seem as exhilarated as he clearly is, “We need to figure out a way to stabilise the crystals, then we can focus on utility.” “God, I’ve missed this,” She says with a warm smile dancing around her mouth, “When can we start?”

***

It’s full steam ahead in the lab for the next few months, literally, to some degree. Before fully joining the Hextech team she had spent a brief portion of time studying glass-blowing and shaping and while she was only half joking when she suggested that they should try tempering the crystals, it ended up being the first step to the final solution. While a collision with physical objects causes a volatile reaction in the crystals, standing about twenty feet back in the Talis family forge, they learned that heat did not cause the same problem. Tempering Hextech crystals turned out to be a much more exhaustive process than tempering glass though, and every step of the way they were worried about causing some sort of disaster in the forge. 

Sky became an invaluable resource and her contagious energy meant that she also very quickly became a friend. While she wasn’t able to commit her full time to the lab because she had her own studies to worry about, she was always around to help copy down notes when everyone else had full hands or to provide encouragement whenever it started to feel like the next hurdle was impossible. Viktor was also right, Sky made a much better coffee than she ever could. 

“Damn.” She mutters, sipping gingerly on the very hot coffee, “How do you stop it from tasting so watery?” Sky laughed, expertly working the coffee machine in the small tearoom in the sciences wing of the academy, “I worked at a coffee shop in the undercity for a few years, all muscle memory.” she explained, popping a lid on Jayce’s coffee and then scooping one spoonful of sugar into the final vacant cup. 

“Viktor takes two sugars.” She says quickly, probably too quickly. 

Sky gives her an odd look, and then chuckles, “I was about to add another one, but thanks for the help.” She suddenly finds her own reflection in the cup of coffee very interesting.

While the work on finding a way to stabilise the crystals took almost all of their time, it was impossible to stop herself from peering in Viktor’s direction whenever she had a spare moment. He had lied about the leg brace just being for the gala, he didn't wear it every day and on the days that he did he claimed to have plans to take a walk out in the city when they wrapped up in the lab, but she usually caught him walking straight back to his dorm as always. She and Jayce would often share a worried look on days that he showed up wearing it but both could sense he didn't want any attention being drawn to it. There were other changes too, smaller ones, that might have gone unnoticed by anyone from outside the lab. His breath quickened and the hours he used to spend working out calculations and formulas on the blackboard were now spent at his desk instead, his angles sharpened and his face slowly began to lose its softness. 

“Just tired.” He responds, whenever she asks how he is feeling. 

Her eyebrows pinch, an insidious fear taking up residence behind her ribs, “You're tired a lot.” 

He sighs, and she is standing close enough that he can rest his head on the swell of her hip, “I am”

She wraps her arm around his shoulders to hold him against her, aching with the weight of a familiar question.

While he moves slower, he doesn't stop moving. When she and Jayce try to untangle just how to temper the crystals, Viktor sits on a chair nearby taking furious notes and offering suggestions. He sits at his desk with Sky as the two of them start sketching potential designs for smaller-scale Hextech projects. Viktor is, of course, there on the day that they manage to create their first successful gemstone. The crystals temper a lot stronger than glass does and were (so far as they could tell) completely resistant to shattering. The final test happens back in the forge where this process all began, with her and Viktor waiting impatiently on the other side of a wrought iron metal door with only a small glass window to watch through as Jayce bravely performs the final test of the gemstone’s durability. 

Jayce waves at them both, though they can barely see his face under the full set of protective armour he is wearing just in case they were off with their calculations. Despite all the preliminary testing and Viktor’s absolute belief in the gemstone’s structural integrity, she still nervously chews on her thumbnail as she watches Jayce set it down on the anvil. Though she doesn’t express her nervousness, Viktor still notices, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Jayce will be fine.” He says confidently, “We’re ready.” She lets out a shaky sigh, the orange firelight from inside the forge washes gently across Viktor’s face at sets his eyes ablaze. His posture is more lopsided than it used to be, his left shoulder kicked up where he is putting almost all of his standing weight on his cane. Her feelings are discombobulating, a dizzying mixture of fear and denial with an overlarge dash of something aching and desperate that she is still too afraid to give a name despite so many years of feeling it.

“Knowing you think so makes me feel a lot better.” She replies, turning her gaze back to the tiny window, “I envy your optimism.” 

“I wouldn’t call it optimism .” He says, wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders and resting his cheek on the top of her head, “Determination, maybe?” 

She softens against him, his touch is familiar by now and while it no longer sends her awash with nerves to feel it, a warmth still settles in her stomach that she is unable to do away with. Her arm slides around his waist and clutches him tight, breath high in her chest as she watches Jayce take a few cautious steps towards the gemstone, clutching an oversised smithing hammer in his hands. Just as he raises it in the air, she’s so panicked that she can’t bear to watch and spins to bury her face in Viktor’s chest. She swears she hears his breath catch, and while he stumbles a little to adjust for the new weight, it only takes him a moment to regain his footing. From behind her closed eyes, she hears the echoing boom of the hammer making impact and then a ringing silence where an explosion would have been, if there was going to be one. 

Viktor lets out a breathless, overjoyed laugh, his hand rubbing enthusiastic circles between her shoulder blades, “We’re going to be able to do some real good now.” He says, “I can feel it.”

The leadup to the next progress day is a stressful one, a great deal of their time was spent tempering enough gemstones for testing purposes and the process was hard enough to replicate that they didn't feel comfortable letting anyone other than her or Jayce near the forge. Even Viktor found it a bit intimidating in there and preferred to sit back while the two of them worked. So while she was spending months and months writing detailed instructions for the tempering methods in preparation for the day that smallscale Hextech devices went public, for now, it was still safer to handle that part themselves. Once they finally have enough gemstones for the prototyping stage, they leave the forge behind for the far more familiar walls of the lab. She continues working to transcribe all the notes they have on the process of refining Hextech gemstones, while Viktor, Jayce and occasionally Sky toss ideas back and forth. 

It takes a lot of late nights glowering at the blackboard and throwing out hundreds of ideas before Viktor finally has the idea to find a way to improve working conditions for miners in the fissures. She can tell that it’s a personal mission for him, the way he talks about what conditions were like when he was still living in the Undercity and she, Jayce and Sky all agree with the idea wholeheartedly. They have far less time before progress day than they would like, but after narrowing the scope of Viktor’s idea to a maximum of two projects for now, it feels doable. Viktor has a bit of his pep back, which also helps to soothe her worries. While he isn't moving around as much as she remembers, his enthusiasm surrounding their new project can be heard in every word, seen in every exaggerated gesticulation. 

One day she is completely lost watching him with wrapt attention as he and Jayce discuss what kind of metal would best be suited for the final version of the devices. Utterly absorbed in each and every minute movement of his lovely hands, in the bright vibrancy of his eyes. 

“He was like this as a kid too,” Sky says, snapping her out of her stupor. 

“What, sorry?”

Sky laughs and inclines her head in his direction, “Viktor. We grew up in the same neighbourhood if you could call it that. He was always tinkering with something instead of playing with the other kids.” She shrugs a shoulder, “He always inspired me, still does, maybe even more so.” 

“Yeah.” She replies wistfully, watching as Viktor excitedly gestures to an equation on the blackboard, causing Jayce to pick up the chalk and start making edits, “He’s certainly inspiring.”

***

With only two months left before progress day, the prototypes still aren’t in any sort of state to show the public even though they are almost complete. Especially since the gauntlet keeps insisting that it wants to remain clenched in a fist no matter how hard they try to convince it otherwise. It’s that terrible part of development, where all the brainstorming and assembly is completed and all that’s left is struggling to figure out the last remaining kinks. Despite not being able to make much progress, the four of them are in the lab from sunrise to sunset almost every day. Sky often wears the gauntlet for hours straight as they all take turns trying to diagnose the issue and Jayce almost loses a finger to the Hexclaw when he gets a little impatient in getting it out of the way and forgets to disengage the gemstone. 

She’s tired. They all are. Sky at some point admits that she can’t keep up these hours when she has her own studies to work on and returns to only dropping by when they need help, but the main Hextech team persists, pulling allnighters and sometimes even falling asleep on the floor of the lab in a big pile. At the very least they endure the stress together. With the initial excitement of development over and the growing sleep deprivation, Viktor starts looking worse again. His already pale skin turns papery ashen and the bags under his eyes are purple like a permanent bruise. One day he shows up with a crutch instead of his cane. He doesn’t even try to create an excuse for it, just sits at his desk and starts working before either she or Jayce can ask questions. That’s when they quickly make the decision to insist that all three of them stop spending so much time in the lab, enforcing a cut-off time where, regardless of progress made, the three of them would all head back to their dorms for the evening. While he seems a little irritated by the idea at first, Viktor does agree. None of them are getting any good work done and a proper sleep schedule might be just the thing to change that.

It’s not a perfect system though. Some nights she sneaks work home with her and knows that Viktor is doing the same, but at the very least he’s more likely to fall asleep in his bed that way. Other nights she is still so anxious about their upcoming deadline that she can’t force herself to sleep, even as the time ticks through until the AM. 

One such night, she dashes her way back to the lab well past 2:00 am. She had been planning to tire herself out by reading the book she had rented from the academy library, but she had left it on her desk in her rush to get home that evening. It’s cold when the sun goes down, so she wraps her arms around herself to avoid the chill as she finally draws closer to the lab. The academy can be a little spooky at night, especially alone. It looks a lot different without the usual warm lighting, and the sound of her feet echoes off the tiles and the whole way down the hall. When the door comes into view, she doubles her pace in the hopes of being back in her bed as soon as possible. 

She wipes her eyes and lets out a yawn as she unlocks the door, only to freeze at the entrance of the lab when the cool blue light of a Hextech gemstone still shines brightly from Viktor’s desk. It’s concerning, because they're usually very careful to lock them away when no one is inside. That's when she notices Viktor slumped on the desk, head resting atop his folded arms, he's still, he's so still that it makes an ice-cold panic start rushing through her veins. She calls his name out, walking towards him, and then again when he doesn't answer, hurrying her pace to reach him as soon as she can, her breath coming hard and fast and desperate as she reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder. 

At her touch, he startles immediately, inhaling a shocked and wheezy breath. 

“Thank god.” She exhales, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in the join between his neck and shoulder. He's still only half awake, one of his large hands coming to rest on her forearm.

“I fell asleep.” He whispers 

“Yeah.” She replies quietly, trying to calm the adrenaline still racing through her, “You did.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” He clarifies slowly, trying to take stock of where he is, “And I came back here thinking that maybe I could solve our problems with the gauntlets before tomorrow morning.” He lets out a breathless laugh and runs a shaky hand through his hair, “My exhaustion must have caught up with me, I apologise.” She doesn’t move, her arms still clutch tightly around him when she lets out a shaky little breath against the skin of his neck. He was just tired, overworked just like her and Jayce. It’s not the first time he’s fallen asleep at his desk, not the first time any of them have. Her heart slowly calms at the feeling of him between her arms, the slow brush of his hand against her bare forearm. She almost wants to laugh, what had she even been thinking? That he had- 

No . There’s no point in even thinking it. He’s fine, she was worrying for nothing. 

“C’mon.” She says, unwrapping her arms from around his shoulders and smiling down at him, “You need to get to bed” He smiles weakly, and she watches with pain in her chest as he puts all of his weight on his crutch to pull himself up from the chair, “Don’t you need to get to bed too?” he asks, giving her just a glimpse of that mischievous smile she loves so much.

“I'll walk you back first.” She replies, heart in her throat, “Your room is closer anyway.”

Viktor looks at her curiously for a moment, and then replies, “Yes, I suppose it is.”

It isn't, they both know it, but the lie is comfortable and the fact that Viktor is willing to go along with it sends a dizzying rush down to her fingertips. They walk in comfortable silence, it reminds her of their first walk together on the way to the music wing, though a lot slower. His crutch makes more of a thunk than the click that his cane used to, but the sound is still good at helping her keep pace with him. The last thing she wants is for him to think that he’s slowing her down. He isn’t, he couldn't, a longer walk is akin to a gift for her, there's so little time for them to meet outside the lab these days that even this minuscule moment is enough for a syrupy warmth to spread through her veins. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Viktor asks when they reach his door. His voice is thick and his tone uncertain, she catches the way his free hand clenches nervously at his side. 

She nods, “Just for a second. It’ll be nice to warm up.” His smile is warm and his eyes shine like amber, “Yes.” He begins, quickly unlocking his door and stepping to the side to let her in first,  “It is cold, isn't it?” It isn’t, but the lie is comfortable. 

“Freezing.” She replies, smiling up at him and walking through the doorway.

This is hardly the first time she’s visited his dorm, though it’s usually during the day to pick something up or drop something off, once or twice to deliver lunch when she suspected that he forgot to eat and on one notable occasion, for a cup of coffee while she struggled through translating his notes into something comprehensible for the council. It looks much the same as she remembers it, very cluttered but still neat. He has stacks of books and piles of notes all over the room and a corkboard with so many overlapping sketches, notes and blueprints that its impossible to see the cork underneath. The floor is clear, though, all his frantic scientific mess is left across desks or bookshelves, a hard divide been his work life and home life. 

Viktor shuts the door behind himself and starts making his way across the space to where she can only assume his bedroom is. He looks at her over his shoulder and says, “You’ll have to give me a minute. Make yourself at home, I won’t be long.” “Oh, okay. No worries.” She replies, wondering what he has to do back there. He might just want to change into something more comfortable for the evening, which is completely reasonable, even if it makes her cheeks warm to think about. Now that she’s actually standing alone in the middle of his sitting room does she finally remember that she’s wearing her pyjamas. They aren’t at all scandalous, thankfully, but she does feel underdressed. After a moment, she sits tentatively on his couch, trying to find the perfect balance between comfortable but not too comfortable for when he comes back out. She drums her fingers against her thigh, trying to ignore just how much it smells like Viktor in here when she hears him call her name. 

She leaps up from the couch, “Yes? Are you okay?” There’s a moment of silence, and then he replies, “I’m fine, I just-” he’s muffled on the other side of the door, but she hears what sounds like a foreign expletive, “I’d appreciate your help, if you’re willing.”

She would be willing to do anything for him, so she walks towards the closed door and then says, “I am.” she swallows nervously, “Can I come in?” “Please.” He replies quietly. 

Her heart races as she opens the door, this part of his dorm she has never seen before. He has a few plants that seem to be in various stages of deceased, a completely full bookshelf, a large wooden dresser and a second, smaller desk that is covered in just as many notes as the one out in the sitting room. His crutch leans against the wall and the man himself sits on the edge of his bed, looking like he’d prefer if she didn't even notice him. “How can I help?” She asks. He looks up at her and then sighs, “The clasps at my ankle.” he says, inclining his head towards his brace, “I’m stiff today I-” “It’s okay.” She replies, already lowering to her knees, “I can do it, don’t even worry about it.” It’s clear that he is still worrying about it, even with her insistence not to. The muscles in his jaw are tight and he turns to face the wall, unwilling to meet her eyes. She doesn’t take any offence, she can tell this is humiliating for him, even though she feels nothing but adoration as her fingers meet the metal clasp at the base of his brace. Luckily the mechanism is intuitive and she doesn’t need any help in undoing it, though her trembling hands make it harder. She is not unaware of the suggestive nature of her positioning, on her knees, between his thighs, but she manages to push past the cloyingly thick implication because more than anything she just wants to help him. 

“Thank you.” He says quietly, when his ankle is loose, “I can reach the rest myself if you’d like to return to the couch for now.” Despite his tired expression, he looks very pretty above her like this, his hair is tousled and hanging slightly in his eyes and the dim lighting in the room catches on all his sharp edges in the perfect way. She sucks a shaky breath in through her nose and then suggests, “I might as well do the rest.” her smile is shaky with nerves, and her voice wavers when she adds, “It just makes sense. I’m already down here after all.” The room feels quieter without the sound of Viktor’s wheezing breath, that’s the only way she realises he’s holding it, “I, ah-” he clears his throat, “Yes. I suppose it only makes sense.” Her next smile is stronger, and more confident as she begins to undo the rest of the clasps and buckles. Viktor has to help her with a few of them, the one at his knee is particularly tricky and he’s insistent that she ask if his leg needs to be moved instead of manoeuvring it herself. Not that he needed to tell her, she would never dare do anything that could hurt him. She has to sit up on her knees to undo the final buckle at his thigh, and he rests a hand on the top of her head as she does so. The feeling of his hand has another smile jumping its way across her face and she quietly asks him to straighten his leg a little so she can slide the brace off completely. 

“All done.” She whispers when it hits the floor. 

He looks down at her for a moment, his gaze so soft that she feels herself beginning to melt in it, “Thank you.” “Do you, um, need help with anything else?”

The muscles in his jaw tighten again and he goes back to staring at the wall, “Well, yes, but-” he shakes his head, “I can do it myself, you’ve done plenty.” “No. I want to help.” She replies, “Please, let me.” Viktor sighs, “I have a back brace too, I can undo it myself, but it takes some effort.” Though there was no real way for her to have known until now, a painful churning begins in her stomach at the thought of her never noticing, not paying enough attention. She pushes the fury with herself down, something to deal with later and instead gives Viktor what she hopes is a comforting smile, “You might have to guide me through it, is that okay?” He looks relieved, as if he was half expecting her to get cold feet, “That would be fine. Thank you.” He adjusts himself on the bed so he’s facing away from her and slowly starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

She sucks in a nervous breath and watches as the fabric slides down his shoulders. There’s a mole on the back of his neck that she wants to kiss so badly she can barely stand it. It’s alarming how much his shoulder blades arch against the papery confines of his skin, the way his posture slopes up to the left, the result of an overcorrection for his limp. She swallows thickly at the sight of his brace, layers of overlapping leather and metal splints that seem directly affixed to his spine. 

Viktor takes a deep breath, she sees his shoulders move, “There are clasps on either side of my spine.” He says, voice quivering. One of his hands reaches behind himself in an attempt to point out one of the clasps for her, “It’s very tight, it will be easier if you start at the top and bottom and then work your way to the middle.” “Alright.” She whispers, trying to conceal the incessant way her heart patters behind her ribs, “Let me know if do something wrong, okay?”

He nods but otherwise doesn’t say anything. It takes her a moment to figure out how the clasp undoes at first, it’s quite a complex piece of machinery and she’s shocked to find that her first assertion was entirely correct. The central portion of the brace is affixed to his spine with a series of bolts the whole way down. Her hands shake as she moves to the same clasp on the opposite side, “How, um, how long have you had this?” she asks weakly. 

“A few years.” She clenches her teeth. How did she never notice? “Just to correct my posture.” He clarifies, sensing her tensing up behind him, “It doesn’t hurt.” 

“But you didn’t tell me.” 

He shrugs a shoulder, “You didn’t need to know.” “I would have liked to.” “Yes, well you know now,” he replies tersely and she immediately regrets pushing the matter. 

He stays silent as she works her way through the rest of the clasps. There’s a window on the wall opposite the bed and the curtains are open just enough for a beam of moonlight to reach in and wrap around the bony protrusion of his shoulder, all the way down the length of his back. She feels lost, caught and tangled up in the sharp angles of him. Her hands continue slowly undoing the brace, but her mind is tumbling and grasping for him before he slips through her fingers. The back of his neck is very pretty, the bumps of his spine that aren't covered by the splints are delicate and heartbreakingly sharp and his breathing is quiet and even for the moment, though she has grown used to hearing it like a chesty wheeze. When she finally undoes the last two clasps in the centre of the brace, he lets out a sigh of relief and when she presses a palm beside his spine, she can feel his heartbeat. Without speaking, he slips his arm through the strap that wraps up and around his left shoulder and her heart aches at the red welts left behind where the brace was pulled tight against his skin, the one on his shoulder is particularly deep and she finds herself leaning in to press a kiss to it before she can even think. Viktor sucks in a breath at the feeling of her lips against him but otherwise makes no acknowledgement of it happening.

“Would you like me to go?” She asks quietly, “You’ll probably just want to sleep now.” He looks at her over his shoulder, eyes wide and vulnerable, “No.” he says quickly, “No- it’s, it’s dark. You shouldn’t walk back alone.” A smile tugs at her lips, “It is dangerous in the hallways of the academy at night, isn't it?”

It isn’t, but the lie is comfortable. 

“It is.” He replies and his smile is a soft, heart-melting curl. After a lapse of almost excruciating silence, he shuffles himself to the side of the bed and stands shakily, resting most of his weight on a dresser in front of him, “Could you turn around a moment?” He asks

It clicks that the dresser must be where he keeps his clothes, “Oh! Yep!” He chuckles, “You can get in the bed if you’d like, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She does as he suggests, facing the wall away from him and crawling in under the covers. It feels strange, the academy bedsheets are exactly the same as the ones in her own room, yet it’s impossible to shake the significance of them being distinctly not hers, “You know I won’t let you do that, right?” she says quietly. 

A drawer opens behind her, and there’s some rustling of fabric, “I’ve slept places far worse than my couch, you even caught me doing so this evening.”

She sighs and pulls the sheets up to her chin, clutching desperately at the fabric, “C’mon, Viktor.” she almost pleads, “It’s just me, I don’t bite.” He scoffs behind her and the bed sinks when he sits on the edge of it. There’s more rustling and she can only assume it's easier for him to change in and out of his trousers when seated, “That isn’t what I'm concerned about.” “Then what are you concerned about?” Viktor goes completely still, she can only hear the sounds of his breathing and she struggles to keep her own breath even as she worries that she may have overstepped. The moment hangs in the air like a pendulum above her and her fingers dig tightly into the blankets. 

“Alright, you win,” Viktor says, and the weight is lifted. He shifts a little, and she feels the blankets lift on his side of the bed as he climbs in. Then she hears a click, and the only light source in the room goes out. 

What are we? She wonders, body stiff and uncomfortable as she lies in the darkness. She’s so close to the edge of the bed that her bent knee hangs off it, too afraid of accidentally touching him because of just how much she wants to. It’s been years of aching and wishing and she’s starting to get the sense that she’s running out of time, that if she doesn't find the right words for what they are, he will be gone before she can express them. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and tries to push the thoughts away, once again forcing herself to believe that Viktor is fine and to ignore all evidence to the contrary. 

Then, she feels Viktor shift on the other side of the mattress and he whispers, “It’s cold tonight, isn't it?” Her heart stops in her chest and she tentatively rolls over to find he’s already facing her. He looks pretty, the light of the moon is eclipsed by the back of his head, leaving him backlit in a soft white light, “Freezing.” she replies, remembering their lie from earlier in the evening. 

“There must be something we can do about that.” he breathes, shuffling in just a little closer. 

She feels like she is about to burst into tears or laughter or something equally immense as she ignores all pretence and all comfortable lies, instead moving straight towards him and wrapping her arms around his chest, tucking her head under his chin. One of his arms slowly slides around her waist to tug her closer against him and his good leg tucks in between both of hers. Something that feels suspiciously like a kiss presses to the top of her head, and as she listens to the gradual calming of his rapid heartbeat she wonders again, what are we?

___

Progress day doesn't go as planned for a lot of reasons. Sitting at the side of the stage, she and Viktor clutch hands the same way they always do. Though maybe a little tighter than normal as they watch Jayce give his first progress day address. She lets out a shocked gasp when Jayce goes off script, deciding not to unveil their newest projects even though the three of them spent so many sleepless nights working on them, even though they drove themselves to exhaustion trying to reach this deadline. Viktor is especially angry about it, seething almost, but everything is thrown into disarray by the attack from the Undercity before they even have a chance to talk it over.

Jayce is their spokesperson, as always, when the three of them are forced to address the council about the theft of one of their gemstones as if it was somehow their fault. They didn’t even have the decency to scrounge up a third chair for her, so she just stands awkwardly beside Viktor and nervously clutches his shoulder. It sometimes feels like the council would forget that she and Viktor even existed if Jayce didn’t keep reminding them. An argument breaks out among the councillors as Jayce begins suggesting a full suspension of Hextech production until the gemstone is located. Viktor also tenses under her hand at the suggestion and while she can understand his reservations, it’s hard for her to disagree with Jayce on this point at least. The last thing they need is someone doing something illegal with their technology, it would be a terrible look, and who knows how many people could get hurt. 

Then, things change so quickly that she can barely keep track. Councilor Medarda levies an attractive offer and before she can even wrap her head around what is taking place, the council issues a vote and suddenly it has eight members. Viktor’s hand shakes when it reaches up to grab her own where it rests on his shoulder, “This won't end well.” he mutters She swallows, filled with an anxious dread that doesn't leave her for the next three days, “Yeah.” She replies, “I have an awful feeling.”

When the two of them return to the lab, the room is filled with a thick and uncomfortable silence. Viktor sits at his desk and clutches his head in his hands, she on the other hand, can’t even bring herself to sit down, instead standing at the only open window in the room and resting her shaking hands on the windowsill. Her stomach twists itself into knots that will take hours to undo, any exhilaration from the the morning is completely gone, only replaced with a churning anxiety. Neither of them speaks until two hours later when Sky drops by, completely unaware of everything that transpired. Viktor explains it to her, his voice weak and exhausted. Sky is a smart girl, she can tell when there isn’t much she can do to help, she promises to let them know if she hears anything about Jayce’s whereabouts, but otherwise says she’ll be in her lab down the hall if they need her. 

With Sky gone, the room once again turns to heavy silence. She swallows and the feeling is thick in her throat, “He must still be with the council.” she says. 

“Yes.” Viktor replies, “He must.”

***

Jayce doesn’t come back that evening. While she’s certain that there is a lot that he needs to learn and probably some sort of extensive paperwork, when she looks over and sees the anxious curl of Viktor’s spine she wishes that Jayce would just tell the council to get fucked and come back to the lab where he belongs. Neither she nor Viktor manage to get any work done, neither of their prototypes are up for production and while there are improvements to be made, Heimerdinger’s insistence that the modifications would take a decade at minimum makes any attempt at progress feel utterly futile. 

Viktor does occasionally pull his pen out and make a few notes, but then he curses under his breath and lets the pen go after just a few minutes. Once she notices the sun has well set through their window and the moon is hanging high in the sky, she lets out a sigh. 

“We’re not going to get anything done, Viktor.” She says quietly, watching as he runs a desperate hand through his hair, “Do you want to get some sleep? Jayce will probably be back in the morning, then we can at least work out what we’re going to do from here.”

“I still don’t understand why he didn’t show the prototypes.” Viktor mutters, “Nothing today has made any sense.” “Yeah.” She replies, “It hasn't.” After a moment, Viktor sighs and grips tightly to his crutch to pull himself up from the chair, “Let’s just go.” he says, and then quieter, as if he doesn’t want her to hear it, “I’m tired.” They don’t talk at all on the walk over to his dorm, both exhausted emotionally and physically. Viktor is struggling to walk more now, she always finds him falling behind even though she is trying her best to keep in step with him, he must notice, even though she purposely doesn’t draw attention to it and she can only imagine how that makes him feel. He stands back as she unlocks the front door and she fondly remembers the morning when she found the spare key lying on his dresser when she woke up. He hadn’t told her that he was getting a copy made, he’d just left it for her when he headed to the lab for the day. It makes sense though, she spends more nights asleep in his bed than she does her own these days, trapped in a tangle of bony limbs that isn't necessarily comfortable but it is profoundly comforting . 

“Do you want tea?” She asks as she steps in through the doorway, holding the door open for him as he follows her inside. 

“No, thank you.” He says, moving to the bedroom and sitting down on the bed, “Help yourself, though.” She follows him into the bedroom, sitting down on the floor and going through the familiar routine of undoing his brace, “You know I was just being polite, I hate tea.” He laughs weakly, leaning back on his elbows as she moves to undo the clasps at his knee, “Don’t worry, it was very polite, thank you.” Her hands are quick now, familiar with each fastening the whole way up his leg, it only takes her a few seconds to have it undone. when she finishes She rests her head on his left thigh, peering up at him. Viktor sighs softly, brushing her hair away from her face. This isn’t a thing that friends do, she recognises, unable to resist leaning into his touch, but it is what they do. The fabric of his slacks is a little scratchy against her cheek and her legs are starting to go numb where they are curled under her, but the moment is so intimate and delicate that she can’t bear letting it shatter. 

“If Jayce isn’t in the lab tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I can find him in the council room,” Viktor says quietly, rubbing gentle circles over her temple with his thumb. 

“I can go instead, " she suggests, “if you want to get some work done in the lab.” “No.” He replies sternly, “I-” he sighs, hanging his head, “I need to talk to him.” “He’ll listen.”

Viktor lets his hand drop from her head, his face awash in painful uncertainty.

She raises herself up on her knees and reaches out to cup his cheek in her hand, “It’s Jayce.” She whispers, confidence proved only a mimicry by the way her voice shakes. Her thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone and her voice is more sincere when she adds, “He always listens.”

***

Whatever conversation Viktor and Jayce have doesn’t seem to help all that much. Jayce does seem apologetic at the very least, but for the next few days, Viktor is decidedly prickly. He sets himself up at one of their workstations and starts wordlessly assembling a new project that neither she nor Jayce has heard anything about until now. While he works, she mostly just sits at her own desk and goes back to trying to fix the issues with the hexclaw with the hopes of getting it to a more finished state before the next investor meeting in a few months. Something has changed in Viktor, she notices. A more pointed determination, something almost dangerously single-minded. He works on his new project all hours of the day and it’s harder than ever for her to pull him away for meals, or to convince him to leave the lab with her in the evenings. 

His cough is getting worse too, worse enough that it’s impossible for her to pretend that everything is fine, no matter how much he tries to convince her that it is just a cold or just allergies or just- 

She catches him once or twice, wiping the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and she wants to scream or cry or do any number of things to force him to stop acting like everything is still fine. Jayce has noticed too, but he’s so busy with council business now that he only drops into the lab for a few hours a day. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He says, leaning against the wall just outside the lab. 

She leans there with him, not wanting to have this conversation in the same room as Viktor, “Me either.” “He is sleeping, right?” She nods, “Not as much as I’d like, but I'm getting him to bed every night.” “That’s good.” Jayce replies, hanging his head, “I should be in there with the two of you but-” he sighs, “Everyone’s still worried about the attack and that missing gemstone, until that’s sorted I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to spend in the lab.” “I know.” She replies, because she does know, even if the facts make her angry, they are still just the facts. She wrings her hands together and turns to face Jayce, his brows are pulled tight and he’s chewing hard on his bottom lip. 

“Hey, Jayce?” He turns his head to look at her, exhaustion visible under his eyes, “Yeah?” “Do you-” her breath escapes her in a hiccuping sob, “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“Sure he will.” Jayce says, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “If anyone can get himself out of a bind, it’s gonna be Viktor, you know?”

***

She visits her father for dinner the night after. They have a long standing arrangement where she stops by within a week of progress day to debrief him. For the first time though, she spends the whole time just itching to get back to the academy, nervously checking the clock with each passing hour and barely managing to eat any of her dinner. 

Her father laughs, “I know I’m not a proper chef or anything, but my food can’t be that bad, can it?” “No, it’s good, I’m sorry.” She says quietly, pushing her food around the plate with her fork, “Still just discombobulated after-” she waves her hand around vaguely, “You know.” “The attack?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah, the attack.” she lies

“Your friends are alright, aren’t they? The Talis boy and uh-” “Viktor.” She supplies. Suddenly even less interested in eating her dinner. 

The new project Viktor is working on consumes him. He’s started calling it the Hexcore and says that he aims to find out whether or not Hextech can learn , if like she discovered so many years ago, they were missing a fundamental and human component. While all of their current creations resonated at a G4, who’s to say that there aren't other effects that could be unlocked by teaching it how to resonate at another, or by giving it an unlimited combination of runes to cast with? He sits at the workstation for hours, constantly manipulating and twisting the rune matrix around. At all moments the room is filled with the rapid click of plates realigning or the humming of the gemstone within them. The only break comes when he takes a moment to update blueprints or write down new notes. She still managed to get him to bed the past few nights, though it only becomes more difficult each time. With Sky’s help, she’s able to keep him eating, even if it’s little more than a sandwich or one bite of an apple. 

She did tell Viktor that she was going to be out tonight and that she’d likely see him in bed. Sky will be staying late at the academy because she has an assignment due tomorrow morning and she promised to keep an eye on him as best she could. Jayce has a meeting with councillor Medarda (though he called her Mel ) and will try and find time to stop by the lab on his way back just in case. It doesn't matter though, there’s a terrible, awful feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach that she can’t do away with. 

“I should get to meet those boys someday, you know?” Her father says, snapping her back to the present, “I know you’re probably embarrassed about our little house on the fringes, but it cleans up nice!” She laughs weakly, remembering that Jayce and Viktor technically already visited years ago, “Sorry, Dad. We’re all really busy right now, and Viktor-” she bites her lower lip to stop the words from coming out, “He’s tired, we’re all tired.”

“Well, maybe I’ll stop by your lab sometime.” He replies, leaning back in his chair with a warm smile on his face, “You can do experiments on me, I’m tough.”

That gets a proper laugh out of her and she’s grateful for it, “I think we’d all like that.” she says, “You could meet our assistant Sky, too. She does work with plants, which is probably a little more up your alley than our stuff.”

“Speaking of plants, did you see the hydrangea on the doorstep? She’s looking a lot better, isn’t she?”

“Doesn’t look one foot in the grave anymore, at least.” She says and then lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry I still haven't been able to get you a seat in the main hall for progress day. Mrs Talis said you could both share a seat next year if they deny my request again.” Her father barks a laugh, “Good sense of humor, that woman. I like her.” he crosses his arms and a frown pulls his grey eyebrows together, “House Talis isn’t even that large, I don’t understand why she gets a seat every year and I don’t.” She shrugs a shoulder, “They’re still a house, Dad.” He huffs, “You’d think having a daughter who helped build that big whosawhatsit in the sky would count for something.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” She replies with a halfhearted smile. 

“When are you going to get your face on one of those mugs?” He grumbles, “I keep telling my clients that my brilliant daughter is doing all this amazing stuff and none of them ever believe me, but if i had a mug- ” Another laugh bubbles up and out of her, she shakes her head, “Hey, Viktor doesnt have a mug either. We just don’t have the faces for it.” She lies, Viktor has a face that should be carved out of marble, “Plus we’re not exactly socialites, I don’t know what Id do if people started recognising me when I went out for lunch.” Her father leans forward, taking one of her hands in two of his own, “You deserve some recognition though, pumpkin.” he waves his hand, “I guess that Viktor guy does too, but I don’t care about him.” Somewhere amidst her laughter it starts feeling like crying, she sniffles and quickly wipes her eyes, “Be nice to Viktor, he isn’t here to defend himself.” “Maybe i’d care about him more if i got to meet him.” “Okay, okay.” She says with a watery smile, “I’ll see how we’re doing next month, maybe we can find time for you to visit the lab. You just won’t be able to touch anything, alright?” He lifts his hands up in the air, “Fully hands off, no worries, kiddo.”

***

It’s well past midnight when she finally leaves. Despite the sense of urgency burrowing into the marrow of her bones, her father still makes great company and it was difficult to leave him, but as she finally makes her way back to the academy dorms the urgency has begun an evolution into terror. Viktor’s dorm is eerily silent when she opens the door, even when he’s sleeping she can usually hear the rasp of his breath. Her heart beats so wildly in her chest that she can feel it down to her fingers as she rounds the corner and finds no crutch leaning against the wall of his bedroom and not a single disturbance in the perfectly made sheets. 

The bad feeling rises in her like bile. Desperation gnaws as she drops her handbag, grabs her keys and kicks off her shoes before sprinting from the dorms all the way to the lab on the other side of the building. Her breath is ragged in her chest and her heart is racing in a panic that only increases in metre as she runs. The tiles are cold under her bare feet and she is aware that anyone still awake must hear her barreling down the halls, but she couldn't care about anything less. When she finally turns the corner to their hallway, it feels like it stretches and stretches, mocking her as she tries to get to the door, faster faster . Her breath comes out in an aching sob when she finally makes it, hoping and praying to be proved wrong as the door unlocks. 

But the feeling had been right. 

Viktor’s Hexcore still pulses on the workstation, pitch shifting from G4 to A4 like it’s laughing at her, spinning quietly as she crosses the room. Watching. Her heart stops completely when she sees him slumped on the floor, there’s a disconnect between her brain and her legs, she can’t make them move, she just stares and inhales gulp after gulp of air that never seems to satisfy. Her feet shuffle slowly, like she isn’t quite awake, like it might all just be a dream. She drops to her knees and reaches out for him.

“Viktor?” she tries, shaking him by the shoulder, and then again, panicked, “ Viktor?”

He doesn't stir. She inhales a breath through her nose, biting back tears, “Okay. Okay. ” she whispers to herself, trying to calm her breathing despite the aching sobs that still lurk in the back of her throat. When the sounds of her own breath are finally quiet enough, she lowers her head to his chest, pressing her ear to his sternum. A heartbeat. Barely there. Her own heart starts racing again and tears of relief start rushing down her cheeks. He’s still alive, but she has to keep him that way. While he certainly can’t weigh all that much he’s still a lot taller than her and completely unconscious so there is no way she can carry him. 

“Okay.” She says, more to Viktor than to herself, “I’m going to get Jayce.” she hiccups another sob and presses a hand to his cheek, nodding to herself, “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The academy has a capsule pipeline system to send information between wings. She knows (thanks to Jayce’s complaining about it) that there is also a system that connects directly to each individual counciller room. Most folk can’t get a letter through to them directly, but Jayce left her and Viktor with a couple of special capsules that get immediate access without needing to go through verification first. Just in case. Her handwriting is very messy as she scrawls out two letters, barely a sentence on each. She also writes another one for the hospital, but she knows they’re further away than Jayce is. Her shaky hand smudges the ink and the paper must be covered in tears, it’s hard to see what she’s doing with only the ominous light of the Hexcore for illumination, but she never even considers turning a light on. 

Clutching the capsules she avoids taking another look at Viktor, because she might not be able to leave the room if she does, and runs down to the station that sends and receives capsules for the science department. She sends the one for the hospital first because they have a direct line she doesnt need to input an address for. Then she inputs the address for Jayce’s room, sends the capsule and collapses to her knees beside the machine. It’s loud, when a capsule arrives, at least that’s what Jayce says, loud enough to wake him up. She sits on her knees for what must only be five minutes, but even that feels like an hour. There’s a thunk when a capsule arrives in the tube and she opens it with a panicked vigor. 

It’s the hospital, they’re on their way, but it’s going to be an hour. 

She presses her forehead to the cool wall, gritting her teeth. Jayce should have heard it, she has another capsule just in case he didn’t, but he should have, unless he isn’t in his room. Her eyes snap open and she rises up on her knees, hand shaking as she inputs the address for Councillor Medarda’s room instead and sends the second capsule. 

Sitting there on the floor, clutching her knees up to her chest. She can’t stop thinking about Viktor, how she wishes she could do something instead of just sitting here and waiting. She buries her head in her knees and lets out a wail, not even bothering to keep quiet should someone overhear. If she hadn’t gone out tonight, if she just told her father that she needed to postpone, she could have stopped this. It’s all her fault. Just as she feels a scream building in her chest, there’s another thunk . 

This capsule is from Councillor Medarda’s room. The letter inside is Jayce’s handwriting. 

Coming now. 

___

What are we? She wonders, sitting for the fifth hour beside Viktor’s bed in the hospital. She holds his hand tight, tracing the bumps of his knuckles with her thumb and just waiting . It’s been long enough that the orange light of the morning sun is pouring into the room, trying its best to bring some colour to the sterile white hospital room. She’s so tired after an evening spent crying and screaming and running back and forth that her head leans uncomfortably against the unforgiving wall behind her because she can’t manage to hold it up anymore. Jayce is tired too, but he still has enough energy to argue with the doctors, apparently. She can hear them from across the hall.   

It only took him ten minutes to show up after his letter arrived. She was slumped against the wall of the lab with Viktor’s head in her lap when he came scrambling into the room. She’d cried so much that she could barely even move, completely weak with emotional and physical exhaustion and when Jayce finally came in through the door all she could do was start crying all over again. Jayce tried his best to stay calm, though his breath was heaving after running all the way over and his eyes were watery and panicked. She remembers the way he forced a smile. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He’d said, the wavering in his voice betraying his cool exterior, “We’ll get him to the hospital, c’mon.”

He’d pressed his forehead to hers for just a moment and then lifted Viktor from her lap and into his arms. She barely managed to tell him that the hospital already knew they were coming, all her words came in juts and stutters between hiccuping sobs. Jayce tried to convince her to stay behind, but even with her exhausted body and shaking limbs, it was impossible for him to change her mind. The rest of the night is a blur, lots of sprinting, arguing, crying and waiting, so much fucking waiting . 

She sits up straight when Jayce slams the door open. He has his hand clasped over the lower half of his face and his eyes are wild. She just watches as he crosses the room and all but collapses in the chair beside her. She sniffles and tries to smile, “Didn’t change anything, did it?” Jayce buries his face in his hands and she tentatively wraps the arm that isn’t areadly occupied by Viktor’s hand around his shoulder. He isn’t quite crying, but it sounds like he could start at any moment, “No.” he says gravely, “The results for the second round of tests were the same as the first.” a humourless laugh escapes him, “and they said there’s no point doing a third.” She bites her lower lip to hold back a sob, “You didn’t need to yell at them.” She says quietly, “It’s not their fault.” “I know.” Jayce says, his voice breaking, “I just-” he doesnt finish, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes and sucking a desperate breath in through his teeth “Yeah.” she replies, resting her head on his shoulder, “Me too.”

***

Jayce forces her to go home after four more hours. Promising to stay at the hospital until Viktor wakes up. She tries to argue, but unlike her, Jayce had managed a few hours of sleep the night before while she was running completely on empty. For a moment she considers going back to Viktor’s dorm instead of her own and curling up on his empty bed, but logic settles in when she realises Jayce will need to know where to find her if something happens. So she sleeps alone in her own bed and spends the whole time wishing she was somewhere else. 

Even when laying in the bed and clutching her knees to her chest she can still hear the rush of her heartbeat in her ears. Her chest hurts from so many hours of painful sobbing and her eyes sting whenever she blinks them open. Her dreams are restless and disquieting. Unfamiliar images flash behind her eyelids that make little to no sense, Viktor is in all of them, Jayce is there often, Sky too. The only sound she hears is the ominous humming laugh of the Hexcore, as if it has sequestered itself inside her grey matter. The dreams start and end in rapid fire. Nothing good ever happens. 

She doesn’t have any sense of what the time is when a knock at her door has her waking with a panicked gasp. Sun streams in through her open window, so it must still be at least the late afternoon, but other than that she has no idea. She stumbles to her door, still dressed in her nice blouse and skirt from the evening before but terribly rumpled for all her tossing and turning. It takes a moment for her to unlock the door, her hands don’t seem to want to obey her anymore. 

“He’s awake.” Jayce says in a rush, when the door swings open. 

Her heart jumps back into gear, all aching lethargy suddenly replaced with a jittering anxiety, “We have to go back now!” she says, moving to push past him.

“Wait!” He exclaims, grabbing her by the shoulders before she can start running, “I- I wish i could, but Mel doesn’t even know where I am and-” “Oh.” She says quietly, Jayce looks just as tired as she feels. The Councillor Medarda situation notwithstanding, he needs to rest, she can tell. She lifts up onto her toes and pulls him into a hug, breathing shakily, “It’s okay, I understand.” she buries her face in his shoulder, “Did you at least get to talk to him?”

Jayce returns the hug, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight, “Yeah, for just under an hour. I know you wanted to see him straight away but,” he laughs a little, “He wanted me to let you sleep.” Her eyes start beading with tears again, at the thought of him asking Jayce to make sure she gets some rest as if he wasn’t the one who almost died the night before. Sucking in a shaky breath, she releases Jayce and gives him a tired smile, “I’ll see you later then, I guess.” 

He nods, “Let me know if you’ll need me. I’ll be in my room all night.”

“Will do.” She replies, stepping past Jayce and closing her door behind her, “We will talk about you and Councillor Medarda later, though. I want details.” Jayce laughs and they both head their separate ways. 

***

Viktor is at least sitting upright when she finally makes it back to his hospital room. His breath is an aching, painful wheeze and despite being open, his eyes seem glassy and inattentive. They do dart to her face when she enters and something like the first inclination of a smile tugs at the very corners of his mouth. She wants to start crying again, to hold him tight and never let go. She doesn't. Instead, she lurks in the doorway, wringing her hands together.

“I hear you saved me.” He says quietly, his accent and the rasp of his voice makes the words difficult to discern. 

She swallows thickly, “I tried to.” Viktor sighs, then. Turning away from her to face the window. The sun's light makes his skin seem less ashen, but the hollows of his cheeks look even deeper, “I take it you were here with Jayce for my diagnosis, then.” “I-” she starts, voice catching on the word, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs bitterly, “Don’t do that to me, don’t apologise.” 

She doesn’t know what to do but apologise. So instead she keeps her mouth shut and forces herself to return to the chair she had been sitting in for all those hours. Wordlessly, she shuffles the chair forward so she can rest her head on the edge of the mattress, peering up at him. She grabs his hand again, holding it tight the same way she had been when he was asleep. 

“I wouldn’t judge you wrongly.” He says quietly, his other hand moving to cup the back of her head, “If you decided to put a stop to-” he closes his eyes and then says the last word like a secret, “-this.” There’s no specification, no clarification. But she knows, she knows what this is, she’s known it for years. This is the only thing she’s ever wanted, this has taken up residence behind her ribs and any removal would have to be surgical. They’d have to rip this from her, out of her and even then she would kick and scream the entire time. This is what they are. 

“I don’t want to.” She breathes.

“Milackú” he whispers achingly. A word she has never heard before, but instantly recognises it as being for her, “I’m dying .”

It hurts to hear him say it, more than when the doctors did. 

“You’ll figure something out.” She says, “I know you will and if- well if you don’t, I-” she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to force back her tears, “I’m still not going anywhere okay? Neither is Jayce, or Sky. Okay? ” she somehow manages to let out a weak little laugh, “and my father wants to meet you, so you have to stick around for a little while.”

Viktor laughs, though it's more of a rasp, “You talked about me?” he asks quietly.

“Always do.” She replies.

It looks like Viktor wants to say something and it looks that way for quite some time. He lets out a shaky breath instead and just keeps looking down at her, whatever words had been dancing on the edge of his tongue are long gone. Usually, she would be curious as to what they were, but at this moment she's just glad to have him, even in silence. It's hard to remember the precise moment when even looking at Viktor became an exercise in restraint, if it was the day they first held hands in the council room, or even before that. She always wants to reach out, to touch, for her skin and his to coalesce into something evangelical.

After some time, she attempts to readjust her head, frowning when she can't manage to find a position that doesn't put a crick in her neck.

“That cannot be comfortable,” Viktor says quietly, rubbing light circles on the back of her head. 

“It isn’t, my neck hurts,” she answers truthfully. He huffs in faux irritation and shuffles himself to the far side of the bed, “Just get in.” he says, “Before you hurt yourself.”

The hospital bed is a lot smaller than the one in his dorm and while the sheets are starchy and uncomfortable, they do smell like him, so she is more than happy to climb in. The single bed leaves them pressed together from collarbone down to knee and the only comfortable place for her head ends up being his chest. He doesn't seem to mind, his arm curls around her and holds her even tighter against him. She wraps an arm around his middle and buries her face in his hospital gown to hide the new tears beading in her eyes. 

“I love this.” She whispers, a close enough approximation, but its utterance feels less dangerous than the truth. 

Viktor kisses the crown of her head, and he breathes, “So do I.”

He falls asleep first, probably less than an hour after she joins him in the bed. First the first time in a long while his breath sounds steady, though it’s probably because he’s still on oxygen. The rhythmic sound of his heart beneath her ear has her biting her lip to keep herself from sobbing, remembering how quiet it had been all those hours ago. How much it hurt to think he had died, how much it hurts still to know that he will . 

She stays awake as the sun begins to set outside the window, once again painting the hospital walls in hues of orange, watching the shafts of light slowly shift with time. This is what they are. It’s not something that can so easily be named, it’s a feeling, a sob building up behind her ribs, his arm around her and the aching dread of something terrible on the horizon. She feels inseparable from him, a very real sense that if he were to die, she would be soon to follow. It takes another hour for her to fall asleep, hand clutched tight to the bedsheets at Viktor’s waist, leg tucked over the top of his own. She isn’t going anywhere, the universe itself couldn’t make her. 

[allthemeniveloved]

hii, i’m not sure about what your policy for requests are, i only just came across your page but i have to say that what i have come across, i rlly love your writing! would you ever write something for charles? he’s a fav of mine and i think it would be so nice to read for him in your writing <3

Token

Summary: Tipsy moments around the fire with Charles.

wc: 1,163

ao3 link

Tags: Charles Smith x fem!reader, friends to lovers, fluff fluffy mcfluff, alcohol

a/n: I don't have a lot of practice writing for anyone other than John or Arthur but I'm open to learning and new ideas! This is short but I hope this is okay, anon. <3

The crackle of the campfire was soft but steady, casting flickering shadows across the tents and wagons scattered around Clemens Point. The rest of the gang had long since drifted to sleep, their snores and the rustling of the lake’s breeze the only accompaniment to the warm glow of the fire. It was a rare moment of peace, a quiet oasis in the chaos of life on the run.

You sat cross-legged on a log, a bottle of whiskey dangling loosely from your fingers. The warmth of the fire mingled with the pleasant buzz in your veins, and the evening felt… perfect. Across from you, Charles was working on a small piece of wood, his knife moving with slow, deliberate precision.

“Y’know,” you slurred slightly, a grin tugging at your lips, “I think you’re the only one who doesn’t turn into a blabbermouth after a drink or two. You’re like… mysterious or somethin’.”

Charles chuckled softly without looking up from his work. “Or maybe I just like to let you do the talking.”

You laughed, leaning back to gaze at the stars overhead. “You’re lucky I’m good at it then. Could you imagine if we both just sat here in silence? Wouldn’t that be somethin’? Just sittin’ here… staring at each other, not saying a damn word.”

“Sounds peaceful,” Charles replied, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

The two of you fell into easy conversation, laughter punctuating the quiet moments as the night deepened. He shared a rare story or two from his childhood, and you countered with your own half-remembered tales, each sillier than the last. The whiskey flowed freely, and the fire burned low, but Charles remained focused on his carving, his knife glinting in the firelight.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Charles’s hands moved as he worked, his fingers steady and deliberate, guiding the knife with a precision that seemed almost hypnotic. The muscles in his forearms flexed subtly with each stroke, and the rhythmic motion of his carving was oddly mesmerizing. The firelight cast a warm glow across his skin, illuminating the fine lines of concentration etched into his expression. A flush crept into your cheeks, unbidden, as you caught yourself staring for a little too long. Your thoughts wandered to how strong and capable those hands seemed, and you quickly shook your head, blaming the whiskey for the heat rising to your face. Get it together, you scolded yourself silently. You’re tipsy. That’s all it is.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of you. You leaned forward, your gaze zeroing in on the small object in his hands. “Alright, I gotta ask. What are you making over there? You’ve been at it all night.”

“You’ll see,” he said simply, his tone teasing.

“Oh, come on!” You groaned, nearly tipping off the log in your tipsy enthusiasm. “You’ve gotta give me somethin’, Charles. A hint? A clue? Is it for Dutch? Or maybe it’s somethin’ for Pearson’s stew pot.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Not for Dutch. And definitely not for Pearson.”

You squinted at him suspiciously, narrowing your eyes. “So it is for someone. Who?”

He hesitated, his hands pausing briefly before resuming their steady work. “Someone who deserves it.”

That stopped you short. Your heart gave a little flutter in your chest, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the strange weight behind his words. “Well, whoever it is, they’re lucky to have you making something for ‘em.”

Charles didn’t respond right away. Instead, he turned the small carving over in his hands, inspecting it closely before finally letting out a quiet sigh. “It’s for you,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, the warmth in your chest spreading like wildfire. “Me? Charles, you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted gently, his voice soft but unwavering as he held the carving out to you. His fingers brushed yours as he passed it over, and you couldn’t ignore the warmth that lingered where your hands had touched. “Here. It’s not perfect, but… I thought you’d like it.”

You stared down at the small wooden figure in your hands, the firelight dancing across its surface. It was a bird, its wings carved in delicate, sweeping strokes as though frozen mid-flight, each line etched with care and precision. Your breath hitched as your thumb traced over the details, the weight of the carving somehow grounding and disarming all at once. “Charles,” you whispered, your voice catching on the lump in your throat. “It’s… beautiful. I don’t even know what to say.”

He said nothing for a moment, his silence stretching between you like the taut string of a bow. When you finally glanced up, his gaze was fixed on you, dark and unyielding, filled with something that made your chest tighten. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I just… I wanted you to have something from me."

Your pulse quickened, the words lingering in the space between you, heavy with an unspoken weight. “Charles…” you began, your voice trembling. The air seemed impossibly thick now, every crackle of the fire punctuating the steady drum of your heartbeat. His eyes didn’t waver, that quiet intensity rooting you in place.

“I mean it,” he continued, his tone steady but almost vulnerable. “You’re not just a friend to me. You never have been. And I’ve been too much of a coward to tell you that until now.”

The confession sent a jolt through you, a mix of shock and something deeper, something that made it impossible to breathe for a long, suspended moment. His expression didn’t falter, but his hands clenched briefly at his sides, betraying the nerves beneath his calm exterior. “Charles…” you tried again, but words failed you, caught in the storm of your emotions.

Instead, you acted. Leaning forward, you closed the distance between you, the world narrowing to the warmth of the fire and the space between your lips meeting his. His kiss was soft at first, a tentative brush, before deepening with quiet urgency, as if this moment had been waiting to happen all along. The scent of pine and woodsmoke surrounded you, grounding you even as your heart soared.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathing unsteadily. A small, shaky laugh escaped you, and you smiled, your cheeks flushed and your hands trembling slightly. “I think… I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a quiet rush, heavy with nerves and joy.

Charles’s lips quirked into a rare, soft smile, his hand brushing against yours in a gesture that felt both grounding and electrifying. The fire crackled softly, casting shadows that danced around you as the world seemed to fall away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other and the whiskey.

[thebadgerclan]

Protect You

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: Even the demon will protect you...

A/N: not requested, but I love this idea lol

He was drenched in sweat, trembling in your arms.  You dabbed at his forehead with a cool cloth, gently rocking him back and forth.  This was arguably the worst part of when the demon came out: coming back to himself.  The demon took such a large toll on Nikolai’s mind and body, and he was exhausted when he came back.

He stirred, moaning softly.  “Kolya?” you said, cupping his cheek.  “Darling, are you back with me?”  The King slowly blinked his eyes open, only calming when he saw you.  “Y/N?”  “Yes, love, it’s me.  How are you feeling?”  You helped him to sit up, pressing a glass of water into his hand.  “Oh, you know…like a demon clawed its way out of my soul.  Nothing new.”

You rolled your eyes, but pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “So,” Nikolai said once he’d finished his water.  “What’s the damage this time around?”  You were silent for a moment, which raised Nikolai’s suspicion.  “Another goose farm?  A herd of cattle?  What, Y/N?”  “There…actually wasn’t any damage.”

Now the King was confused.  Every time the demon came out, he hunted.  Never humans, but livestock, birds, and the like.  “What do you mean, Y/N?  Where did I go?”  “You stayed here, Nikolai.  With me.”  “With you?”  Nikolai sat up, shocked, but he moved too quickly, causing a wave of nausea and dizziness to wash over him.  “Why was I with you?  Why didn’t Tamar get you out?”

Nikolai was frantic now, fear filling him.  The demon was unpredictable, it didn’t have his logic or reasoning, it could not differentiate friend from foe.  And if you were with him when he transformed…  “Hey, Nikolai, look at me,” you said, taking his face in your hands.  “Sweetheart, I am fine.  You didn’t hurt me, you didn’t hurt anyone.”  “I…I didn’t?”  “No, my love.”

Unbidden, a terrified scream left your mouth.  One moment, it was your husband next to you in bed, nodding off as he read.  The next, it was the demon; beady black eyes, black talons and claws, inky scars on his skin, and wings made of shadow.  Tolya and Tamar entered not even a minute later, weapons drawn, prepared to protect their King and Queen.

“Y/N, come on!” Tamar called.  But the moment you stepped away, Nikolai snarled, digging his claws into the bedsheets.  And when Tamar took a step towards you, he gnashed his teeth at her.  “Tamar?” you called, and the Heartrender took another cautious step forward.  This proved to be the wrong decision, as Nikolai leapt from his perch on the bed and went face-to-face with Tamar and growled.

Then, surprising everyone in the room, Nikolai turned to you.  With as much gentleness as the demon was capable of, he draped a wing over you, sheltering you against his body.  He looked at you, his black eyes somehow tender, and purred.  You had no idea that the demon could purr.  Whenever Tolya, Tamar, or even Genya tried to approach, Nikolai would snap and snarl at them, tucking you in tighter to his body, sheltering you with his wing.

“Are you…protecting me?” you asked, and while the demon could not speak, he huffed a breath at you as if to say “Of course I am”.  Nikolai remained in his demon form for several hours, content to sit with you tucked beneath his wing.  And when the demon retreated, Nikolai remembered nothing.

You recounted the evening’s events to your husband, who looked at you like you’d grown a second head.  “I…protected you?  How?”  You shook your head, cupping Nikolai’s cheek and drawing him in for a soft, gentle kiss.  “You did.  I don’t know how, or why, but it seems the demon knows how much you love me and want to protect me.”

Your husband nodded, snuggling into your embrace.  “I do love you, Y/N.  I love you so much, more than I ever thought I could love someone else.  Were you afraid, love?”  Guilt filled you as you nodded.  “I was, yeah.  Not of you, Nikolai, never of you.  But when the demon comes out, it’s not you, and we don’t know what it will do.  But then you protected me, you snapped at Tolya and Tamar and sheltered me.  I don’t know why it happened, but I think the demon knows me.”

Nikolai hummed, sleep pulling him under.  “I love you,” he repeated, words slurring a little.  “I love you, Y/N.  I love you so much.”  You laughed, kissing his forehead and wrapping your arms around him.  “I love you too, Nikolai.  Now get some rest, my love.”  You reached to extinguish the lamp on the bedside table, immediately returning your hand to its place on your husband’s back.  You could dissect what the demon protecting you meant tomorrow, but you knew one thing it meant for certain: Nikolai’s love for you ran so deep that not even the demon could ignore it.

[rylem33]

Brace Yourself

Jeremy shivered as the cool air kissed her now-exposed skin. Her fingers brushed over the sleek, metallic bracelet still clasped around her delicate wrist. She’d only put it on as a joke, trying to lighten the mood during another dull hangout session with the guys. Who could have guessed it actually worked… or had this kind of power?

Her reflection in the mirror across the room was unrecognizable: wavy auburn hair falling in disarray over her shoulders, piercing eyes that smoldered with an almost magnetic pull, and a figure that screamed temptation in every curve.

Jeremy swallowed hard, fighting the alien sensations coursing through her body. She felt heat pooling in her core, a deep, insistent need that was as terrifying as it was intoxicating. She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think.

“What… what the hell just happened?” one of the guys finally stammered, breaking the stunned silence.

Jeremy turned to face them, her lips parting as if to explain, but no words came out. Her friends’ gazes roamed over her like they couldn’t decide whether to freak out or… something else.

The longer they stared, the more Jeremy’s frustration grew. These were her friends. Or, at least, they had been. But now? They were useless. Awkward, fumbling boys who didn’t have the faintest idea what she needed.

The thought slid into her mind unbidden: A real man would know what to do.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she shook her head violently, trying to banish the idea. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t normal. But the warmth inside her wasn’t going away. If anything, it was growing.

Ethan took a hesitant step forward. “Jeremy? Are you… ok?”

Her laugh came out softer, breathier than she intended. “Do I look like Jeremy to you?” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Ethan faltered, and Jeremy rolled her eyes. These were her friends, but now they just seem like useless boys. She needed to figure this out herself. Or… maybe she didn’t. Maybe she should just give in. Give in to the lust building within her.

She clenched her fists, determined to keep herself together. But deep down, a part of her was already wondering: What would it feel like to stop fighting? To just… let go?

Take it off,” Ethan said, his voice trembling as he gestured toward the bracelet. “Whatever this is, you  just need to take it off, Jeremy. Maybe it’ll stop.”

The others nodded, their eyes darting between her and the bracelet. Their nervous energy filled the room, but she felt nothing but annoyance. Why should she take it off? This body… this power… it felt so good. Why would she go back to being him?

She smirked, twirling a strand of her auburn hair between her fingers. “And what if I don’t?” she purred, enjoying the way her friends flinched. “What if I like it like this?”

“Jeremy, come on,” Ethan pleaded. “This isn’t you. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s not real. It’s the bracelet messing with your head!”

She tilted her head, considering his words. The bracelet was doing something, wasn’t it? It had changed her body, her mind, even her desires. But was that such a bad thing? The thought sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.

Without saying a word, she picked up her phone. Her friends exchanged panicked looks.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked cautiously.

Jeremy ignored him, her perfectly manicured nails dancing across the screen as she dialed a number. The tension in the room grew heavier with each passing second.

“Who are you calling?” another friend, Max, demanded, his voice cracking.

She didn’t answer. A sly smile spread across her lips as the call connected. “Hey,” she said, her voice low and honeyed. “Yeah, it’s me. I need you to come over… right now.”

“Who the hell did you call?” Ethan asked, but she just smiled in response.  Minutes passed by as they peppered her with questions but she just toyed with her hair and ignored them.

Before anyone could react, the door slammed open with a loud bang. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light, was Jake Larson. His broad frame filled the space, and his trademark cruel grin was plastered across his face.

“Well, well, well,” Jake sneered, stepping into the room. “Looks like I get a late Christmas present. I get to do my two favorite things tonight: beat the crap out of you little losers… and have some fun with her.” His eyes roamed over Jeremy—no, Jessica—hungrily, and he let out a low chuckle.

The tension in the room snapped. Ethan, Max, and the third friend, Dan, exchanged a quick, panicked glance before making a break for the door. But Jake wasn’t about to let them go so easily.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he snarled, lashing out with a heavy boot as they scrambled past him. Ethan yelped as the kick landed squarely on his side, sending him stumbling into the wall. Jake managed to catch Max with a shove that sent him sprawling onto the floor, but Max scrambled to his feet and bolted after Dan, who had already slipped out the door.

“Cowards,” Jake spat, watching them flee down the hall. He turned his attention back to Ethan, who was still clutching his side and trying to crawl away. With a cruel grin, Jake delivered one last kick to Ethan’s ribs before the boy managed to stagger out of the room.

As the door slammed shut behind them, the only sounds left were Jake’s heavy breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as Jessica shifted on the bed.

Jake turned back to her, his grin widening as he finally had her all to himself. “And now for the fun part,” he said, stepping closer.

Jessica sat on the edge of the bed, her posture relaxed, her lips curled into a knowing smile. Her eyes were fire, soaking in the chaos Jake caused with glee. 

“Finally,” she purred, her voice dripping with invitation. “I was wondering when you’d stop wasting time.”

Jake froze mid-step, caught off guard by her tone. “What?” he said, his bravado faltering for a split second.

Jessica tilted her head, her smile widening. “You heard me. Close the door. Let’s make this… interesting.”

[vilevenom]

This idea has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while now, and I finally decided to give it a go. But, wow, I haven't written smut in a literal dogs age, so please be gentle!

This fic is EXPLICIT. But I'm not your mom, so make appropriate decisions for yourself.

Made to Worship at Your Bed

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (no specific media)

Pairing: Sonic/Shadow

Summary: Their first time doesn't exactly go as planned, but it's better than either of them could have imagined.

WARNINGS: Explicit sexual acts. Characters are depicted as ADULTS

P.S - I am a bottom!Shadow truther. Fight me.

Sonic knew perfectly well the implications of Shadow inviting him over while Rouge was off on some globe trotting escapade, leaving the dark hedgehog alone in their shared apartment.

The two had been dating for a few months now, but had yet to spend a night alone with one another. Sure, they'd slept together, but only in the most strict of senses. At any given point, someone was always right around the corner, bound to pop up at the most inopportune of moments, and shatter any notion they had of privacy. Sonic found it to be rather frustrating if he was being honest, though Shadow seemed to find his irritation amusing more than anything. This only served to frustrate the blue hedgehog further.

So, of course, he'd jumped at Shadow's invitation, making sure to take extra time to wash himself thoroughly, going even so far as to steal a small bottle of sweet smelling quill conditioner from Amy to make sure he looked and smelled as delectable as possible. He knew Shadow liked him regardless of how he presented himself, given how the hybrid had practically pounced on him once after they hadn't seen each other for a week, while Sonic had bits of branches and mud stuck all through his quills. But, that didn't mean he couldn't put forth some effort. Shadow was more than worth it, after all. And if the night went the way he hoped it would, then his little bit of extra preparation would serve him well.

A grin of utter jubilation settled itself on his face as he twisted this way and that in front of his bathroom mirror, finally nodding at himself once he was satisfied. He then dashed out of the house, shouting a quick goodbye to Tails as he slipped on his shoes. On his way to Shadow and Rouge's apartment above Club Rouge he made exactly two stops; first to purchase a small bottle of lube on the likely chance that Shadow didn't have his preferred brand (which didn't leave his fur feeling like it was matted with glue as it dried) and a second to buy a moderately sized bouquet of fragrant brightly colored flowers. He knew Shadow absolutely adored the smell of fresh flowers, though only very select people would ever be privy to that information.

Nerves struck him without warning as he came to a stop on Shadow's door step, causing him to freeze with his hand poised just before knocking on the door. However, he squashed them down as quick as they'd come with a swift reminder to himself that he'd been looking forward to this for weeks. It wasn't even his first rodeo, so he wasn't entirely sure what he really had to be nervous about. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Shadow that made him so jittery. Even just being in the same room as the dark hedgehog made his heart go all fluttery in his chest. None of Sonic's previous partners had made him feel quite like Shadow did, so maybe he just didn't want to disappoint the hybrid. After all, the Ultimate Lifeform must have some wild experiences under his belt. Sonic certainly did.

With a brief shake of his head Sonic knocked on the door, rocking back on his heels as he waited for Shadow to answer. The dopey smile that spread across his face as the door swung open came completely unbidden, and he was sure he looked like a lovestruck idiot. However, he could hardly care with the way Shadow's expression softened and his eyes lit up upon landing on Sonic and the bouquet in his hands.

"These are lovely," Shadow hummed in lieu of a greeting, stepping aside to let Sonic in and gingerly take the flowers as they were pushed into his hands.

"Not as lovely as you," Sonic replied with a wink, chortling at the faint flush that spread on Shadow's muzzle as the hybrid shut the apartment door with a soft click.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Shadow stated bluntly, though he did let a small smile curl his lips as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to Sonic's cheek, "But, thank you for the flowers."

"Needed to get something pretty for my pretty," Sonic chirped, toeing off his shoes and trotting after the dark hedgehog into the apartment, grinning like a loon as Shadow rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen, unable to hide the way his smile grew fondly.

"You're ridiculous," Shadow hummed, pulling a vase from the cupboard under the kitchen sink, "Dinner will be ready in a moment. Go sit at the table. I'll bring it out shortly."

"Aye aye, captain," Sonic said, giving Shadow a mock salute and laughing as the hybrid obviously tried to muffle a chuckle at Sonic's antics behind a hand.

Dinner was served not a minute later, just as Shadow had said. Spaghetti and meatballs, with a side of cheese bread. Sonic arched an eyebrow as a plate was set in front of him, biting his lip to try and keep from snickering at Shadow's choice of food. However, he obviously hadn't hidden his amusement well enough, as Shadow sat across from him with a little frown. "What's so funny?"

"Sorry," Sonic finally said after a moment, rubbing at his cheek as he grinned warmly at Shadow, "This is just…very Lady and the Tramp of you." He was surprised to find a flush blossoming across Shadow's muzzle at his comment, as he'd fully expected the reference to fly right over the hybrid's head. He sat up in his seat in as Shadow ducked his head and hunched his shoulders in obvious embarrassment. "Wait…was this on purpose?!"

"…Rouge made me watch it last week," Shadow murmured with a hint of hesitation, hands in his lap, "I thought it was nice."

"Oh, Shadow," Sonic crooned, immediately out of his seat and speeding around the table to crouch next to the other. He let a warm smile settle on his face as he tried to catch Shadow's eye, reaching out to scoop the hybrid's hands into his own. "It is nice. Cliche, sure, but very nice. I just hope you didn't hide a suspiciously long noodle between the plates to try and recreate the whole scene."

"What? No, of course not. That would be impractical, and make a mess."

"Of course," Sonic chuckled, squeezing Shadow's hands gently while leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry if I embarrassed you. I just…never expected something like this from you."

"I wanted our first real date to be memorable," Shadow admitted with a small shrug, his posture loosening, "Those cartoon dogs seemed to enjoy it. Rouge suggested having a record of 'Belle Notte' playing, but I thought that was a bit too on the nose."

"You were right. And I would've clocked it a lot sooner," Sonic said with a snort, rising from his crouched position and heading back to his chair, now that Shadow no longer seemed like he might implode from embarrassment. "I appreciate the effort and thought, Shads. It's really sweet of you."

Shadow opened his mouth, a hint of a challenging smirk on his face, before he seemed to think better of whatever was on the tip of his tongue, letting his jaw shut with a click of his teeth. Sonic arched an eyebrow in confusion as Shadow sat back and stabbed a meatball a little too violently with his fork.

"Uh…what's up, Shads?" Sonic prodded, carefully twirling a forkful of noodles up as Shadow stuffed the entire meatball he'd skewered into his mouth. He frowned lightly as Shadow muttered something around the mouthful of meat, the hybrids cheeks turning bright pink again. "Come again?"

"I said," Shadow said, scowling as he swallowed his mouthful, glaring across the table at Sonic with a growl in his voice, "I wanted to do something sweet for my sweet."

Sonic nearly choked on the noodles he'd only just started chewing, coughing as he hastily swallowed them down, quickly chugging half his glass of water afterwards. "Uh, wow," the blue hero finally managed to gasp out as he cleared his throat, "Maybe next time you want to be romantic, say it without the scary face and snarling?"

Shadow huffed, idly twirling his fork around his plate. "It was stupid and embarrassing. You said it first, so of course it was."

"Flatterer," Sonic chirped, chuckling as Shadow rolled his eyes at him. "And unlike with you, that will get you everywhere with me," he added with a wink, relishing the way Shadow's eyes widened minutely as he nearly choked on the pasta he'd just delicately put into his mouth. "Careful, Shads. Don't want you choking until later. If you're into that," he added with a wink, cackling at just how beat red Shadow's face immediately went, while quickly ducking as a piece of bread was lobbed at his head.

The rest of their meal went by without incident, with idle chit chat about Eggman's last attack, GUN's current operations, and how business at Club Rouge had been going taking up a majority of the time.

Once their plates were emptied, Shadow swept the dishes away before Sonic could open his mouth to ask if he could help with clean up, blinking as another plate was placed in front of him not a moment later. He stared down at the delicate looking little chocolate cake, more than a bit surprised by its appearance. In all the time he'd known Shadow, he really couldn't recall ever seeing the hybrid indulge in dessert. When he lifted his gaze, he found Shadow staring at him intently from across the table, his fork poised over his own cake, obviously waiting for Sonic to take a bite before starting. Suddenly feeling like this little cake was much more important than it had any right to be, Sonic picked up his fork and cut into his cake, surprised by the sudden flow of warm, velvety looking chocolate that spilled from the center across his plate. His ears perked at the sigh of relief from across the table, arching an eyebrow as he glanced back up at Shadow.

"I was worried I'd made them wrong," Shadow explained without Sonic needing to ask. With that, he dug into his own cake, humming in appreciation as he took a bite.

"You made these?" Sonic asked, scooping up a bite and doing his best to hold back a moan as the rich taste of warm chocolate slid across his tongue. Shadow had obviously added something to the filling, as it had just a hint of spice that only served to enhance the overall flavor. "This is amazing, Shadow!" the blue hero gushed, not missing the pleased smile that spread over Shadow's face at the compliment.

"I read that lava cakes were a staple dessert for proper dinner dates," the hybrid hummed, swiping liquid chocolate up with his fork and quickly licking it clean, smirking at how Sonic's eyes were trained on his mouth. "I'm not very well versed with baking, but I wanted this dinner to be…special," he admitted quietly, setting his fork aside. "I realize that this may sound silly, but…I wanted this to feel like a regular date. Like what other Mobians do. Our schedules so rarely line up properly, and any time we've gotten to spend together has been co-opted by friends or missions, so I wanted tonight to feel…"

"Normal."

Shadow huffed out a little breath, his gaze fixed on his plate. "I realize that's not really something you're interested in, so I'm sorry if it's a bit boring, but-"

"No! No, Shadow," Sonic found himself rising from his seat for the second time that night, though he did not round the table this time. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his hands on the table so when Shadow lifted his gaze to look at him, he could see the conviction in Sonic's expression as he spoke. "I know how much basic things that other people take for granted, like just getting to have dinner together, mean to you. I want you to get to experience all of the things you missed out on, growing up in space. I know I'm Mister 'Gotta Go Fast', but I am more than happy to slow down with you to enjoy the little things in life. You're worth going slow for, Shadow."

The sudden flash of something dark in Shadow's eyes was not the reaction that Sonic expected from his little speech, his heart skipping a beat as the hybrid abruptly rose from his chair, the wood making a terrible screeching sound as the legs scraped across the floor. Sonic flinched as Shadow grabbed his hands, relaxing after a beat when that was as far as the action went.

"And you," Shadow breathed, getting into Sonic's space, pressing in until the back of Sonic's knees hit his chair and he had to dig his heels in or fall backwards into his seat, "are more than worth going fast for."

Sonic had to swallow hard to keep from whining at the way Shadow was staring at him now, his tail twitching in anticipation, before he finally let out a breathy moan when he was tugged into a hard kiss. Finally, finally, this was what he had been eagerly anticipating since his invitation, his tail a blur as he returned the kiss with vigor.

"Come with me," Shadow rumbled against Sonic's lips, smirking at the shiver that visibly shot up Sonic's spine at his words. Keeping a firm hold of the blue blur's hand, their half eaten dessert forgotten, he lead Sonic through the apartment and into his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. A pleased little hum escaped him as Sonic practically melted as he was pressed back into the door, the hero of Mobius reduced to a clingy puddle as Shadow resumed their kiss and pushed his tongue passed his teeth.

A string of saliva connected them briefly as Shadow pulled away from the kiss, a triumphant smirk settling over his features at the glazed over expression on Sonic's face. "Enjoying yourself, hedgehog?" the hybrid asked, taking a short step back.

Sonic simply whined as Shadow's heat slipped away from him, reaching out to try and catch the hybrid, only to grumble in frustration as Shadow stepped further back, just out of reach of the hero's clingy fingers. "Shadow," he whined, pushing himself off the door to follow after the darker hedgehog, only stopping to stare with wide eyes as Shadow languidly stripped his gloves and socks off, leaving behind only the glint of gold against his striking dark fur. He shot Sonic a sultry smirk over his shoulder, his tail flicking invitingly as he began to meander towards his bed.

"Don't keep me waiting, hedgehog," Shadow murmured, finally breaking Sonic out of his stupor. He was fairly certainly he'd never stripped his gloves and socks off so fast, tossing them only chaos knew where. He paused on his way to the bed to dig the bottle of lube he'd bought out of his quills, only to freeze like a deer caught in headlights with his hand still shoved deep into blue spikes as he moved to climb onto the bed.

Shadow had settled himself into the pile of pillows at the head of his bed, his relaxed quills spread out tantalizingly across them. He was watching Sonic with half-lidded eyes, his knees bent and spread wide, showing off his swollen pouch, while his hands danced teasingly over his abdomen and through his chest fur. Sonic was fairly certain his mouth had never been more full of saliva, as he nearly drooled over Shadow's little display. A weird little chirrup-y sound left him as he finally pulled the bottle from his quills, though his feet remained glued to the carpet.

"Well?" Shadow purred, his knees spreading impossibly wider as he dipped one hand down to tease at the slit of his pouch. Sonic simply choked on air, unable to form enough of a thought to get himself to move. Which was apparently the worst possible thing he could do, because as the seconds dragged on, Shadow quite obviously began to second guess himself. His knees snapped together in a flash as doubt obviously made itself at home in his mind, his cheeks flaming red as he sat up from the pillows, scowl on his muzzle. "I…forget it. This was stupid," he grumbled, his distress finally jarring Sonic's body into motion.

In a flash Sonic was on the bed, tossing the bottle into the pillows so he could get place his hands on Shadow's legs, rubbing his thumbs against the insides of the hybrid's calves in what he hoped was a reassuring or comforting gesture. "Hey! Shadow, no no no. Chaos, I'm so sorry," Sonic soothed, hating how Shadow's ears were pinned back in embarrassment when that had been, bar none, the most erotic display Sonic had ever seen in his entire life. Now he just had to convince Shadow of the same thing, or risk never getting to see the ultimate lifeform beckon him between his knees again. "You short circuited my brain a bit there, that's all," Sonic said with an apologetic little laugh, "I was expecting you to top, if I'm being honest. Got myself all prepped and ready, so I was not expecting to find the most amazing creature ever created splayed out across the bed like that for me." The immediate flick of Shadow's ears towards him at the praise made Sonic smile.

"…Did you want me to top?" Shadow asked after a beat, instead of addressing anything Sonic had just said, earning a fond eye roll from the hero.

"Only if you want to. I just figured, with how you like to be in control of situations pretty much all the time, that'd just carry through to the bedroom. I'm more than happy, either way," Sonic reassured, petting down Shadow's calves to rest his hands on the inhibitor rings at his ankles.

"That's the exact reason I didn't want to," Shadow muttered, causing Sonic to frown in mild confusion. He let out a tiny huff of air, glaring at the blue hero for a moment, before deflating and ducking his head slightly. "I was doing some reading in preparation for tonight, and I wound up on a website which discussed different sexual positions, preferences, and so forth. I wanted to be well prepared for any direction the evening may have gone, and I…I found a particular article talking about 'bottoming' or being a submissive, and I thought it would be nice to-to have someone I trust be in control." He peered up at Sonic, his cheeks significantly less red than they had been before, but still distinctly pink tinged. "And I," he cleared his throat, looking away quickly as he spoke, his ears pinning back once more, "I wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone inside me who I chose to let in."

"Shadow," Sonic breathed, his own cheeks flushed, but for completely different reasons than Shadow. His tail whipped back and forth as he leaned further into the hybrid's space, startling Shadow into falling back into his pillows with a put upon grunt. "That is, simultaneously very sweet, incredibly touching, and the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I…Really?"

"I wouldn't have said it if it weren't true," Sonic hummed, sliding his hands back up Shadow's legs to gently wiggle his fingers in between the hybrid's knees. Slowly, he pushed Shadow's knees apart and pressed into the space it made, smiling encouragingly as Shadow relaxed further back into the pillows. "Now…I believe I have some making up to do, since I'm pretty sure neither of us are all too aroused anymore," he added, glancing down to find that, as expected, Shadow's pouch was very much flat and hidden by fur. He smirked at the way the hybrid squirmed at being observed, and how his tail curled up protectively over his crotch. "Now, now," Sonic soothed, planting his hands to either side of Shadow's chest and leaning in over the other, his smirk growing at the way Shadow's eyes grew wide at his somewhat domineering shift in demeanor, "I'm going to take good care of you, Shads. I promise. You trust me, right?"

"Of course," Shadow breathed, his claws absently digging into the bedsheets, ears pricked forward in interest.

"Good. Then first," Sonic hummed, pulling Shadow's hands from the sheets to burry them in his blue quills instead, "You can touch me. And you know I'm not fragile, so you can even use claws a little bit, if you want. Just be careful not to dig in too deep, okay?" A quick, jerky little nod from the hybrid was his only response, but he could feel Shadow's fingers toying with his quills, so he figured his words were getting through. With that, he dipped his head down and began to pepper Shadow with tiny kisses, starting from the side of his muzzle and working his way down, pausing only briefly to dig his fangs lightly into the juncture of Shadow's neck and shoulder, relishing the restrained little moan the action resulted in. "Don't be shy, Shadow," Sonic murmured into the hybrid's shoulder as he moved down to a fluffy white chest, taking a short moment to press his face into the soft fur there, "I want to hear you. You'll be a good boy and let me hear you, won't you?"

The moan that ripped out of Shadow was louder and more unrestrained than Sonic had been expecting. He jerked his head up to find Shadow's face beat red, one of his fangs digging into his lower lip as he stared at the ceiling like it had offended his mother. "Did you like that?" Sonic asked, a wicked grin on his lips as Shadow let out a strained grunt, obviously at war with his want to let go and his inherent need to hold himself to some impossible standard while maintaining control. "Hey, it's okay, Shadow," Sonic cooed, letting his fingers dance up and over the hybrid's sides, "I like that you want to be my good boy. And I like how loud you were. Let's me know I'm doing a good job, doesn't it?"

Slowly, between his gentle cajoling and tender caresses, Sonic could feel the tension the dark hedgehog held slowly melt away. He hummed happily at the way Shadow's ears rolled back into a relaxed, submissive position, and his gaze softened as he let his coiled muscles relax against the bed. "That's it, Shads," Sonic cooed, settling back down to resume his trail of kisses, "Such a good boy." The low moan that escaped Shadow this time was far less exuberant than the last, but just as thrilling to Sonic. He was fully aware of the sheer weight of the trust he was being given, as Shadow let the last vestiges of his walls fall down. It was a heady feeling, and Sonic was eager to ensure he kept it.

The low, rumbling purr that kicked up as Sonic's kisses moved over Shadow's stomach were an additional surprise that had the hero's ears perking forward eagerly. He lifted himself slightly to find Shadow's head tipped back, blinking slowly and obviously letting himself slip away into Sonic's tender ministrations, if the way his gaze seemed unfocused and his fingers lazily stroked through blue quills were anything to go by. Sonic smirked, chewing on his lip for a moment, before making one of his signature snap decisions. He quickly dipped his head and ran his tongue over Shadow's now prominent pouch bulge, the tip of his tongue just barely pressing into the slit there. He braced himself as Shadow let out a startled grunt, Sonic fully anticipating the way the dark hedgehog's fingers tightened and pulled at his quills as his purr guttered out.

"S-sorry," Shadow's breathy apology sent a shiver down Sonic's spine, his tail happily wagging away as he grinned up at the hybrid, while Shadow pet apologetically at his head.

"No need to apologize, Shads," Sonic hummed happily, licking his lips languidly, "I didn't exactly give you any warning. Do you mind if I continue?"

Shadow gave his head a short shake, his low purr starting up again as Sonic scattered a few soft kisses to his inner thighs, before letting his tongue slide back over Shadow's pouch. He was infinitely curious to know what Shadow was packing, if he was being completely honest with himself. The thought had occupied his mind on a handful of occasions, resulting in more than one swift trip to the bathroom to either clean himself up or take a cold shower. He was a touch disappointed that he wouldn't get the opportunity to ride Shadow like he'd imagined this time around, but getting to swallow him down would be a good consolation price. As such, he let out his own happy little moan as the tip of Shadow's cock began to poke out of his pouch, his tail practically turning into a blur as he laved his tongue once more over the slit, before closing his mouth over it and sucking. He jerked a bit as Shadow's hands suddenly shoved down on his head, a startled shout from the hybrid accompanying the action as Shadow's girth rapidly slid into Sonic's mouth, very much choking the hedgehog as the length of it was a bit more than he had been expecting. He squirmed in Shadow's hold, lifting his head quickly and sucking in a deep breath once the hybrid's hands were out of his quills, and his cock out of his throat. He was never quite so thankful to not have a particularly strong gag reflex.

"Are you okay?" Shadow wheezed, looking a mix of dazed and apologetic, his hands hovering in the air, reaching for Sonic.

"Y-yeah," Sonic coughed, rubbing at his throat with a light wince, though he shot Shadow a quick smile of reassurance, "Caught me off guard, is all."

"That's an understatement…"

Sonic snorted, finally looking a bit bashful as he shrugged slightly. "Sorry, not sorry?"

Shadow simply chuckled, letting his hands drop to the bed, digging them into his own quills as he nestled more fully into his pillows. "Of course you're not sorry."

"Nope," Sonic chirped, finally looking down to see what he was working with, only for his mouth to flood with saliva at the sight. It was no wonder Shadow had choked him, despite his lack of gag reflex. The hybrid's cock was girthy and long, with a tantalizing looking ridge of little bumps lining the underside. He swallowed and ran his fingers up along the side of Shadow's spit slick dick, grinning madly at the whine and shiver the simple little touch elicited from Shadow. "Especially not when this is my prize."

"Sonic," Shadow murmured, almost pleading. It was such a wild departure from what Sonic was used to, it made him all the more eager to please his partner and make this a night Shadow would never forget. If only so that he would get to experience it over and over again.

"I've got you, Shads," Sonic hummed, momentarily casting his gaze around at the pillows to locate the little bottle of lube he'd haphazardly tossed there earlier. Quickly, he snatched it up, holding it so Shadow could see the label when he was cast a curious look. "I'm gonna prep you now, okay?" He leaned in to press a brief kiss to Shadow's mouth at the hybrid's nod of ascent, before sliding back down the bed, slathering his fingers in lube as he went, before taking the tip of Shadow's cock into his mouth. He began to bob his head a little as he gently swirled his fingers over Shadow's entrance, not missing the way the hybrid tensed slightly at the touch. Sonic had little to no doubt that no matter how many experiences the other may have had, he was definitely the first partner Shadow let top, and as such he was bound and determined to go as slow and gently as possible to make this the best possible experience Shadow could have.

Once the hybrid was used to his touch and had sufficiently relaxed, Sonic gingerly pressed the tip of his finger inside, dipping his head to swallow down nearly half of Shadow's length in order to distract from the intrusion. Luckily, this time Shadow's fingers dug into own pillows instead of Sonic's quills, though his hips did jump up a bit, causing Sonic to draw back and click his tongue quietly. "You gotta relax, Shads," he murmured, methodically pumping his finger in and out of Shadow as the hybrid panted above him, "Much as I enjoy your cock in my throat, I'd like it to be on my own terms, yeah?" His only reply was a short nod from Shadow, and the hybrid squeezing his eyes shut as he forced his hips back down onto the bed. "Mmm, that's a good boy," Sonic sighed, rubbing at Shadow's stomach with his free hand, not missing the low whine that left the hybrid at the pet name.

Sonic continued to prep Shadow slowly while laving attention on his cock, pausing every time the other squirmed or made a sound of distress. It made the whole process about three times longer than Sonic was used to, but as he'd told Shadow over dinner, the hybrid was more than worth going slow for, especially now. And he couldn't even say that he wasn't enjoying the tedious process, given that he'd never seen Shadow so free with himself. Sonic was committing every soft whine, quiet plead and aborted movement to memory. Truly, he wished he had a camera so he could go back later to rewatch Shadow come undone beneath him on repeat.

Finally, when Sonic was three fingers deep and Shadow looked like he was near tears as little strings of babbled nonsense escaped him, Sonic figured he'd been thorough enough. Gingerly, he extracted his fingers, relishing in the whimper and low whine that left Shadow as he did so. "Hey now," he cooed, snatching the little bottle of lube up from the bed to pour some over his own sizable length, which had slipped free of his pouch while he'd been tending to the hybrid and had begun to weep precum against the sheets, "The best is yet to come. No need to whine." He chuckled at the soft scowl Shadow shot him, the hybrid's ear pressed back as he barred his teeth a little. "C'mon," Sonic hummed, tapping the head of his cock against Shadow's entrance teasingly, "What's the magic word?"

"F-fuck you," Shadow nearly snarled, though it was breathy at best, while his hips shifted to press down to try to force Sonic inside.

"Ah, ah, ah," Sonic shook his head, drawing back and grinning at the way Shadow huffed and arched his back. "The point of this activity is to fuck you," he added, snorting as Shadow dug his head into the pillows with a grunt, "Now…What's the magic word? Don't you want to be a good boy?"

That seemed to be Shadow's magic word, as his hips dropped and his chest gave a slight heave as he sucked in a deep breath. Tentatively, he peered up at Sonic, the grasp on his last few shreds of control seemingly slipping away. "Please," he whispered, whimpering as Sonic shifted forward to rub the tip of his dick against Shadow's entrance once more.

"A little bit louder, Shads. I didn't quite catch that."

"Please!" Shadow shouted, uncharacteristically desperate. His eyes were pleading as he pushed his hips down, his back arched with the movement, and his claws digging into the pillow behind his head enough that it looked two seconds from being torn in half.

"That's my good boy," Sonic cooed, letting himself finally sink into Shadow's welcoming heat.

The sob that followed caught the hero completely off guard, faltering at the sight of tears slowly rolling down Shadow's muzzle and dampening his fur. He quickly scrambled to pull out, worry coursing through him at the thought that he'd somehow managed to hurt Shadow, despite his thorough stretching. However, upon shifting his hips he found Shadow's legs firmly clamped around his torso, forcing him to either stay still or move forward. He swallowed thickly, reaching down to pet at Shadow's stomach, since he certainly wasn't about to press forward while the hybrid was actively crying.

"Shads? Hey, Shadow? Can you look at me?" Sonic pleaded, worrying his bottom lip as Shadow slowly blinked teary eyes open to stare up at the hero, his vision blatantly unfocused. "Hi there," Sonic cooed, offering the other a tentative smile as he continued to pet at Shadow, "You okay?"

A slow nod was Sonic's only reply.

"Okay, well…you're crying. Are you aware of that?"

Shadow frowned lightly, pulling a hand free of the pillows to swipe at his face, his brows arching in bewilderment as he wiped away tears.

"I'll take that as a no…Are you hurt?"

A short shake of his head was Shadow's reply as he stared at his now damp fingers.

"Okay…you wanna keep going?"

"Mmm," Shadow hummed, nudging his feet against Sonic's lower back, forcing the hero's hips forward an inch, a low groan leaving Shadow as Sonic sunk a little deeper into him. He let his hand fall back into the pillows, his own worry over his tears obviously nowhere near what Sonic's had been if the way he rolled his hips was anything to go by.

"Alright. Well, you let me know if you do wanna stop, okay?" Sonic insisted, ignoring the grumble of irritation his lack of movement caused. "No, Shadow. This is important. You tell me if we need to stop. Okay?" Sonic waited patiently as Shadow rolled his head back with a groan, watching intently as the hybrid took a couple of deep breaths, before finally focusing back on Sonic, looking a bit more lucid this time.

"I will," Shadow rumbled, dancing his fingers up Sonic's arm, before digging them back into the pillow next to his head, "S'just a lot. S'good, though. Keep going." That seemed to be the extent Shadow was willing to keep focus, as he relaxed back into the pillows and nudged at Sonic's hips again, "Please."

"Mmm, how can I say no to that?" Sonic sighed, letting Shadow push him forward, essentially allowing the hybrid to set the pace as he ever so slowly pressed inside.

Once fully seated inside, Sonic buried his nose in Shadow's shoulder, lingering to let the other get used to the feeling of being full. He knew from experience that it could be a lot the first time, and he didn't want to accidentally overwhelm Shadow again by moving too soon. He smiled faintly as Shadow's hands moved from being dug into the bedding, to sunk into his quills, taking the opportunity as Shadow clung to him to suck a few more little love bites onto the hybrids shoulder and neck. He was so absorbed in his own little activity that he nearly choked on saliva and fur as Shadow's muscles suddenly clenched around him. For a moment, he'd thought it had been in response to his bites, as Shadow relaxed again when he pulled his face away. However, the hybrids' muscles clenched again without warning not a moment later, pulling a low whine from Sonic.

"Shadow?" He leaned a bit further back so he could get a look at the hybrid's face, only to find Shadow zoned out and staring at the ceiling, his lower lip caught between his teeth as his abdominal muscles methodically tensed and relaxed against and around Sonic. "Fuck," the hero grunted, gasping at a particularly hard clench, dropping to dig his face into Shadow's chest. He knew it wasn't the intention by any means, but it practically felt like Shadow was trying to milk him. "Shads," Sonic groaned, gasping as Shadow shifted his hips at the same time as he clenched his muscles, the hero's self restraint holding on by an extremely thin thread, "Shadow, please."

That seemed to snap the hybrid out of whatever strange little zen moment he'd gotten caught up in, letting his hips drop to the bed and going lax beneath Sonic. Letting out a little breath, Sonic sat back, drawing out slowly as he moved. He couldn't help the fond little chuckle that left him as Shadow gasped and whimpered at the loss, only to moan happily as Sonic easily slid right back in. "I've got you," Sonic sighed, starting up an unhurried pace, drawing nearly all the way out and pressing back in, in long, steady strokes. "That's it," he hummed, watching in rapt attention as Shadow's gaze went completely unfocused, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as his beath came out in short, sharp little gasps. "So good for me, Shadow," he began to ramble, experimenting with his angle every other thrust to see how the dark hedgehog would react, "You're taking me so well. Look at you." He grinned as Shadow's hips suddenly shot up, accompanied by a choked gasp. A tell tale signal to Sonic that he'd hit the hybrid's prostate.

Sonic leisurely ground into that spot inside Shadow a few times, biting at his lip as he watched thick beads of precum drip from Shadow's cock onto his belly. "Fuck…just look at you," he breathed, shifting to lift Shadow's legs over his shoulders so he could bury himself inside just that little bit deeper. "Wish you could see yourself like this, Shads," he groaned, his pace picking up slightly, earning punched out little gasps from Shadow, "So gorgeous. Head totally empty, all spread open and stuffed full of my cock." He pressed a sloppy kiss to the inside of Shadow's knee, leaning in and practically bending the hybrid in half as his hips sped up further, the sounds pouring out of Shadow's mouth nearly loud enough to rattle the walls.

"Such. A. Good. Boy," Sonic grunted, punctuating each word with a sharp, hard thrust, feeling his end rapidly approaching. He grunted as he ground himself into Shadow as deep as he could go, leaning up to languidly drag his tongue over Shadow's ear, the sensitive appendage flicking against his mouth. "Touch yourself," Sonic practically growled into Shadow's ear, "Let me see you cum." He shifted back once he felt Shadow's hand trying to wriggle in between their bodies, a feral little grin on his face as the hybrid hurried to obey, wrapping his fingers around his length and stroking quickly. "Good boy, Shadow," Sonic growled out, picking up his brisk pace once more, chasing his own release as Shadow's back arched off the bed with a broken moan. "Cum on my cock, pet. Cum all over yourself for me," he grunted, nipping at the inside of Shadow's knee and letting out a pleased groan as Shadow spasmed below him, his muscles convulsing as ropes of white painted his belly and a thready shout ripped from his lungs. "Mmm, that's my good, obedient boy," Sonic cooed, before slamming his hips home and emptying himself as deep inside Shadow as he could push.

The two sat entangled for a moment, their panting breaths echoing though the room the only sound. Finally, Sonic shifted minutely, an apologetic smile on his face as he carefully slid Shadow's legs down from his shoulders. "Ah, sorry about…well, my mouth sort of ran off without me," he said with a light chuckle, his thumbs swirling little circles through the damp fur of the hybrid's thighs, "I didn't meant to make it weird…" As he moved to pull out, he found Shadow's legs had shifted to wrap around his hips, effectively pinning him in place. He blinked, about to ask Shadow what was up, when the hybrids arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down, very nearly smashing his nose into the other's shoulder. "Ah! Oh? Uh…cuddles? Is that what you want?" Shadow's deep, rumbling purr began to kick up again as Sonic settled against him, so he figured that was the correct answer. He supposed there were worse things than being koala cuddled by your boyfriend while still buried balls deep inside him. He let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling into the side of Shadow's muzzle and letting his own purr reverberate through his chest.

Sonic stayed like that until he could feel his dick starting to retract into his pouch, at which point he figured it was time the two of them get cleaned up. Gingerly, he pried Shadow's arms from around his neck, while planting a quick kiss to the hybrid's cheek. "Mmm, I think it's time to get up, Shads," he sighed, sitting up and back, unable to help himself but to glance down as he finally fully slipped free of Shadow's heat, watching as his spend slowly began to seep out of the hybrid's entrance. He bit his lip to try and hide his self satisfied grin at how he'd marked the 'ultimate lifeform', though his tail easily betrayed him as it wagged happily away. "Look at you, Shads," he murmured, pushing one of Shadow's knees further out to spread the hybrid open wider, "So pretty…"

He frowned, his purr coming to a stuttering stop as it finally occurred to him that Shadow wasn't making some snide remark back at him for his comment, or snapping at him for staring. As a matter of fact, he hadn't really said anything since letting Sonic know that he was okay after crying. He dragged his gaze up to Shadow's face, a little worried at what he might find, and more than a little worried to find Shadow still looking nearly as dazed as he had been in the throws of passion, though curiously the hybrid was still purring loudly.

"Shadow?" He shakily pet at Shadow's side, when something he'd read only the week before suddenly popped into his head. At the time, he'd thought Rouge was just being her regular, mildly vulgar, cheeky self when she'd sent Sonic several links about dominant/submissive relationships, and aftercare instructions. He'd scoffed when he'd opened them, thinking she'd been trying to pull his chain about how rough Shadow was going to be with him. Now he was wondering if, perhaps, she'd been trying to subtly support Shadow in her own weird way by sending Sonic some rather informative links. He hadn't really had any intention of reading the articles, but now he was quite thankful for his natural, insatiable curiosity. If he was recalling correctly, Shadow was likely in some sort of 'subspace', probably brought on from pushing himself to give up his control to Sonic, and the hero continuously putting particular emphasis on praising the hybrid as a 'good boy'. Nothing too serious, but he needed to snap Shadow out of it slowly to make sure the other didn't suddenly become overwhelmed.

"Hey," Sonic cooed, reaching both hands up to gently cup Shadow's face, softly brushing his thumbs along the other's cheek bones, "Shadow? Hey, pet…I need you to focus on my voice, okay? You were such a good boy, but I need you to focus now, alright?"

"…I was good?"

Sonic's ears immediately perked up at Shadow's soft words, nodding happily at the other. "Yes! You were so good. Now, just listen to my voice and come back to me. You did so well, I just need you to keep listening to me…"

It took a bit of soft cajoling, but Shadow's gaze finally seemed to snap into focus on Sonic as he took a deep breath, a full body shiver over taking him as he lifted his hands to cover the cobalt blue ones on his face. "Sonic…"

"There you are," Sonic sighed happily, leaning to pepper feather light kisses over Shadow's face, his toes curling happily at the soft chuckle he managed to pull from the hybrid. He sat back on his haunches once he felt the hybrid was sufficiently peppered, resting his hands on Shadow's knees and absently rubbing them. "You doing okay?"

"Yes," Shadow murmured, rubbing at his face with a quiet grunt, "Though, that was…unexpected."

"Good unexpected, or bad unexpected?"

"Mmm…that remains to be seen."

"…How's that?"

Shadow chuckled quietly. "I'm trying to decide if it's worth it to allow you to call me 'pet'."

"Ah," Sonic flushed, lopsided grin on his face, "Sorry. That really was heat of the moment. It just sort of slipped out."

"I'm sure it was," Shadow muttered, shifting to sit up, only to cringe at the feeling of Sonic's cum dribbling out of his entrance. "That's-"

"I got it!" Sonic cut Shadow off, zooming away, only to reappear a moment later with a damp washcloth in hand. "Here," he hummed, placing a hand on Shadow's chest to encourage him to lay back, while carefully cleaning up the mess he'd left with the cloth.

"It's cold," Shadow grumbled, flopping back into his pillows.

"Yeah, sorry," Sonic sighed, looking sheepish, "Didn't really have time to let the water warm up. But! How about I go run us a bath? I saw the fancy tub in the bathroom, and nothing feels nicer after sex than a warm bath."

"Is that so?" Shadow hummed, rolling onto his side as Sonic slipped off the bed. "Speaking from experience?"

"Oh, yeah," Sonic grinned, shooting Shadow a wink, "Having someone else wash your quills after an orgasm? One of my top ten favorite experiences."

"Well, then. I guess I have to try it for myself."

"You got it," Sonic chirped, bouncing on his toes. He quickly swooped in to press a brief kiss to Shadow's cheek, taking note of the smitten little smile on the hybrid's face that he was sure Shadow thought he was moving to fast to see, before shooting off to the bathroom to start the bath. For good measure, he added a few splashes from the various bottles around the tub into the water, humming in satisfaction at the enticing aroma that flooded the bathroom. The resulting smattering of bubbles across the waters surface was a nice bonus, too.

When he returned to the bedroom, Sonic found Shadow sliding from the bed, his toes just about to touch carpet, before Sonic zipped over and scooped him into a bridal carry with a cheeky grin.

"I can walk!" Shadow snarked, punching Sonic in the shoulder with no real power behind it.

"I'm aware," Sonic hummed, waltzing out of the room, "But this is just nicer, isn't it?" He concluded that Shadow must agree with him, as the hybrid did little more than huff quietly and fold his arms over his chest. He chuckled and kicked the door shut once they were in the bathroom, striding over to the tub and snorting when Shadow's arms suddenly coiled around his neck tightly. "…Seriously? You think I'm going to drop you in the tub?"

"It's you. Of course I do."

Sonic rolled his eyes, gingerly placing Shadow in the tub before reaching to shut off the faucet. "Give me at least a little credit, Shads," he sighed, stepping into the tub himself after snatching a couple of wash clothes from under the sink. "That'd be no way to treat my perfect little pet, now would it?"

Shadow bristled and growled quietly under his breath, earning a soft chuckle from Sonic. "Careful, hedgehog."

"Yeah, yeah," Sonic hummed, poking at Shadow to get him to turn around in the tub, pouring some soap into his quills and digging his fingers in once the other finally decided to cooperate. "Anyway…what did you think? Still worth going fast for?"

"Hmm?" Shadow sounded somewhat dreamy as Sonic's fingers dug into his quills, tilting his head slightly to glance over his shoulder. "What? The sex? Or the bath?"

"Uh, either? Both?"

"The bath is good," Shadow sighed with a little nod, turning to face forward again, "As for the sex…I knew it was going to be messy. That alone never really made it very appealing to me. But…I enjoyed it. It was nice to let go and know I was going to be cared for. So, for that, thank you, Sonic."

"You're welcome? Never really been thanked for sex before, so this is new," Sonic snorted quietly in amusement, grabbing the shower head to rinse the soap from Shadow's quills.

"I don't expect it will be a reoccurring thing," Shadow chuckled, turning around once Sonic indicated he was free of soap, "But for the first time? Especially since I hadn't realized what would happen…I appreciate that you kept calm and helped bring me back to myself."

"Well," Sonic admitted, blushing slightly as he sunk into the water, "I might've…Rouge might've sent me some reading material."

"Of course she did," Shadow snorted, rolling his eyes. "Even still. For a first experience, you certainly made it enjoyable."

Sonic froze blinking up at Shadow from the water, squinting slightly. "Wait…Wait a minute," he sat up, water sloshing over the edge of the tub, much to Shadow's chagrin. Several casual comments and the way Shadow had acted suddenly fit together like little puzzle pieces in Sonic's head. "You were a virgin?!"

Shadow simply stared at him with an unamused arch of his brow. "Yes? I would have thought that was obvious."

"Wh-no?! You're, like, the coolest guy around! And ridiculously attractive! How?!"

Shadow couldn't help the little chuckle that left him at Sonic's astonishment, twirling his finger in the air to indicate that the hero should turn around so he could return the favor of washing his quills. He finally spoke once Sonic situated himself with his back to Shadow. "It's simple, really," he hummed, rubbing soap into Sonic's quills, "No one else was worth my time."

"I-" Sonic sunk into the water as a flush spread over his cheeks, only to squeak as Shadow prodded him into sitting back up, "That's both incredibly sweet, and a little bit conceded."

"I'm not wrong."

With a soft laugh as Shadow rinsed soap from his quills, he couldn't help but quietly agree.

"Oh, and I've decided," Shadow later commented out of the blue, once the tub was drained and they were both wrapped in oversized, fluffy towels and sat huddled together on fresh blankets on Shadow's bed.

"Yeah? What'd you decide?"

"That I don't mind."

"Mind what, Shads?"

"Hmm…being your 'pet'."

A self satisfied grin danced across Shadow's lips as Sonic choked on air.