ah the towel. Hot

[varanere00]

Chapter seven, the last chapter of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt), fae court convexian shenanagins as co-written by @whisperwritingstuff and @varanere00 is now up! The curse has been lifted! What now?

Read chapter seven here!

[varanere00]

sweltering heat (soothing cold of your touch)

it's hot. mosquitos are annoying. i made a thing. enjoy! the thing on ao3

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"You're being awfully squirmy today." Curious mischief glitters in Scar's eyes as he watches Grian.

"It's not- It's nothing- I'm fine." Grian insists, shifting in his seat. He's supposed to be doing- something? With Scar? Honestly, Grian had lost the plot probably half an hour ago, all due to that infernal itching.

"It doesn't look like nothing. What's wrong? Got ants in your pants? Maybe a tickle in your tush?" Scar grins, lopsided and teasing. A pencil dangles from loose fingers, bouncing as Scar fiddles with it, up and down and up and down and up-

"It's nothing, Scar. Just an annoying mosquito bite." Grian forcibly tears his eyes away from the pencil and its magnetic bobbing he could get lost in all too easily if he let himself.

"Then scratch it. I want your input on my ideas here." Scar shrugs, turning back to the papers detailing what Grian thinks might be part of Scar's base? He's not quite sure.

Grian's next words get eaten by the feathers of his headwings arching forward to cover his face.

"What was that?" Scar hums, looking up again.

"I said, I can't! It's- not in a spot you can scratch in public." Grian's as red as his discarded jumper. Really, in this heat, anyone would sleep naked! It's not his fault!

"Oh, I don't mind." Scar's eyes rake over Grian as he speaks, taking in every inch of him. Of the way his tshirt he wears under his jumper clings tightly to every bit of muscle he has, highlighting his powerful keel and broad shoulders. Hugging the softness of Grian's lower belly, where it pouches forward in a gentle curve. Disappears into his trousers, that he exchanged for a pair of black hot pants rather than his usual black jeans. Even the dark scales of Grian's birdy feet are not spared Scar's heavy gaze, talons twitching under the scrutiny.

"I'm certainly not going to do it with you staring at me!" Squawking, Grian tries to de-floof his wings that are all too intent on spreading, tries to fight down the liquid heat pooling in his gut.

What if he did scratch? The thought slips into his mind unbidden, hungry, standing every feather on end as goosebumps race down his spine. Doing, that, reaching there, while Scar is watching him so intently? Grian has to bite back a moan, picturing the obscene noises of relief he would make, just from being able to touch the itching area alone. His thighs squeeze, offering practically no relief, no friction with just how much he's dripping. Thank fuck he's wearing black. There must be a stain on his crotch by now. That bite's been driving him mad.

"Oh you like that." Scar purrs, eyes hooded and lips vicious. "Do tell, just where exactly is this little bite that bothers you so much?"

"Scaaaar!" Grian has no other protests, no other words. He needs, he needs to sooth the itch, to touch-

But he can't. Not in front of Scar. Not in front of the man he's been harboring a hopeless little crush on for years at this point. Shifting his hips does nothing but draw his attention back to the wet squelch of his folds against each other. The utter lack of divine, delirious friction-

"Should I guess? Did the mean thing bite you in the butt? Were you a naughty birdy, sleeping naked, moon out for all to see, and get a juicy chomp taken out of your lovely cheeks?" Cold static tingles over Grian's skin as Scar's magic perks, catching the scent of prey to hunt. Blue gleams in his eyes as Scar's grin grows sharper. "Or did it get you somewhere else? Did our naughty birdy sleep with his legs spread wide?"

"Shut- Shut up!" So what if he did? So what if Grian likes to sprawl out in his nest, all six limbs flung wide when it gets hot? He'd ripped out the planks his nest was built on, replaced them with blue ice for that blessed chill that creeps through the pillows and blankets piled on top to make his nest. Why wouldn't he take advantage of all that hard work as much as possible?

"Oh you did!" When did Scar get up? How long has he been looming over Grian, one hand on the backrest of the couch Grian's sat on, the other coming to rest heavy and blessedly cool on Grian's thigh. Sharp, alert vex magic floats down off him in tiny snowflakes, thirsting for a hunt. Echoing desire and craving through Grian's own, deeply buried magic where it lands.

"That's- none of your business. How I sleep." Mouth dry, Grian tries to swallow. Have Scar's eyes always been this magnetic? Grian can't tear his gaze away, forest green mixing with frosted blue in the reflection of Grian's spread wings, a riot of color, perfect harmony between the two of them.

"What if I want it to be my business?" Scar purrs, hand rubbing at Grian's thigh. Each pass taking him closer and closer to where Grian needs-

"Wha?" Grian has to untangle his own tongue, heavy with a heat that has nothing to do with the intense summer sun. "What do you mean, Scar?"

"Where did that mosquito bite you, Grian?" Scar's voice is heavy with meaning, meaning Grian can't parse like this. Icy fingers brush the bottom edge of Grian's entirely too short hot-pants that feel entirely too covering right now. So close, Scar's fingers are so close to where Grian needs them, to where he's barely let himself dream of Scar ever touching him.

"M- my clit." Words tumble out of Grian, his admission hanging between them as he stares into Scar's eyes. If he were just that bit more aware, just that bit more coherent, he wouldn't-

Grian, staring up at him, those perfectly plush lips parted in tantalizing invitation-

Grian, under him, moaning, wings wide-

Desire, hunt, claim, magic screaming to claim their mate-

Nothing more than a dewdrop of his own, a singular particle of mist that jumped the bridge, let him See.

Scar doesn't break eye contact as his fingers ghost over Grian's shorts, pressure ever so barely there.

The cold comes as a shock to Grian's system. Scar hooks his fingers into the waistband of Grian's shorts, Grian's gasped in breath expanding his stomach out to press against more Scar's hand, more of Scar's chill.

Stillness. Seeking gaze.

Breath whooshes out of Grian as a gossamer strand of understanding passes between them. Scar doesn't hesitate to thumb the button of Grian's pants through its hole. In the silence between their breathing, the zipper feels deafening, every tooth a wither explosion through bones deep in flesh.

Scar sliding the pants down Grian's legs brings with it the realization that he's spread those legs, allowing Scar between them.

Then his clothes are tossed off to who knows where and Scar is kneeling between Grian's legs, eye contact still unbroken.

None of this is how Grian ever though this would go, in those precious, stolen moments where he allowed himself to imagine Scar might return his feelings. Usually, he dreamt of sweet confessions over cherry grove picnics, or maybe sitting on one of their roofs, watching the sunset after a thrilling flight. Soft, giggling kisses and held hands, maybe falling asleep cuddled up in Grian's nest. Gentle, something from a storybook. Perfect narrative, clean and crisp.

Instead, there's this unbearable tension Grian doesn't know how to handle and yet craves with every fiber of his being. Soft giggles replace by weighted silence full of unspoken truths, tangled fingers replaced by thighs spread wide in instinctual invitation.

Grian had imagined many variations of their first kiss. Light, short, flirty. Deep, meaningful, unhurried. Always on the lips, always after a sweet, heartfelt confession, always chaste. Not once did he imagine this. That their first meeting of lips would be this way, this heated. That instead of Grian's mouth, Scar would kiss Grian's lower lips, spread wide for him and glistening with need before they even declared their feelings. Would wrap his mouth around the pearl of Grian's clit, swollen red from the bite, soothing the itch with his laving tongue.

His own deep moan catches Grian off guard, sweet relief rushing through him in nearly orgasmic bliss.

Around his clit, Scar smiles and licks him again.

[varanere00]

Chapter six of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt), fae court convexian shenanagins as co-written by @whisperwritingstuff and @varanere00 is now up! Spore! How will the bring inkz about? How will Grian fair?

Read chapter six here!

[varanere00]

Chapter five of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt), fae court convexian shenanagins as co-written by @whisperwritingstuff and @varanere00 is now up! Cub studies Grian's blood, and convex talk. Due to some chapter renegotiations, there will be a chapter uploaded both tomorrow (Aug, 1st) and Sunday (Aug. 2).

Read chapter five here!

[whisperwritingstuff]

chapter three of Vitamin Monday [working title], enemies/lovers convex heroverse shenanigans co-authored by @varanere00 and myself hotguy and vex and their very standard archnemesis dinner date- enjoy!

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In the kitchen, Hotguy makes a beeline for the fridge. Which is fully stocked. Fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, a whole drawer full of cheeses and cold cuts. A box with the logo of a really fancy bakery sits at the top, suspiciously cake-sized. Juices, milk, and cream bottles line the door.

Hotguy closes the fridge. So much. This is so so much. Vex must have prepared for that cooking-loving deity side he hasn't called.

This is fine. Hotguy can work with this.

Focus.

Just like any other mission. Think of it in terms of him resupplying Vex. Make sure Vex is fueled enough to be able to bring his best in their fights. So something simple, but filling.

A poke at the pantry contents, and another glance at the fridge have an idea consolidating.

"How does pasta with grilled chicken sound? We can blend some beans into the sauce for more protein, and some vegetables for the vegetable vitamins. Add them to the chicken pan for a quick grill since you said flavor is important." Hotguy's already gathering what he'll need from the fridge.

"Plus the charcuterie board as a side, yeah, that sounds good. A wide spread of nutrients." Vex nods, pulling a big wooden serving board out. "Could you pass me the berries, and some fruit? I'll get started on the board."

"Have to make sure you're ready to bruise pretty for me next time we clash." Hotguy passes off the fake-looking berries and fruits, too vibrant and perfect. The kind of stuff commercials show, somehow made real. The stuff he's made of.

Which leaves Hotguy to get the pots and pan on the stove, oil heating to a nice shimmer in one as he preps the chicken breasts. Would that they were Vex breasts, but he'll have to count this as practice- And handle them with as much intent and focus. A good seasoned salt rub to soak into the meat while he gets the kettle going for the pasta as well.

While that heats and soaks, he can chop up some vegetables. Some bell peppers, some zucchini, some carrots. Nice little sticks and slices that will grill and char up nicely, to go in their sauce.

Next to him, Vex washes those perfect berries, chopping up equally perfect cheese into slices. Somehow, probably due to some villainous bit of Vex magic, this doesn't feel like a waste of time, right now. Instead, it feels companionable. Like the heat from the stove glows warm in Hotguy's chest.

Hotguy's fingers tap each of the five bandages across his own pecs, even though they're hidden under his shirt. The markers of Vex's magic entering into his chest and making a home there, burning so sweetly. This is- They're doing work like any other, right now. Tasks in a chain, like any other mission. Just, together. He doesn't touch his mask, but the feeling of it tingles against the skin of his face.

Dump the jars of sauce into one of the pans so it can heat up. It's too sweet, they always are, but he'll make it work. Bold flavors.

Get the pasta going as well, and toss on the chicken and the veggies. Let them grill up nicely.

That set, Hotguy can root through the cabinets for where he saw Vex get the stick from, last time. A high cabinet, but he's taller than Vex, so it balances out.

The sweet waft of fruit juices blend with the sharp char of veggies, backed by the meaty mouthwatering scent of the chicken and its herbs. For a moment Hotguy simply breathes, almost grasping the edge of that sense of joy- But he has more tasks to complete. And his legs have stopped trying to betray him after the stretch up into the cabinet.

So time to blend the beans into the sauce- No, right. He taps Vex on the wing, a series of chiming rings. "Stick. Loud." Without waiting for a reply, Hotguy moves forward with the blending.

"Thank you." Vex says behind him. Footsteps retreat, but no door swishes. Hotguy focuses fully on his blending.

Noise over, he hears something else. Music. Looking over, he finds Vex fled the noise to the living room, and has fired up what looks a lot like YouTube on the big TV there.

Bounce in his step to the beat of the music, Hotguy scoops the pasta out into the sauce, adding a good measure of the boilwater in as well. Why? Something told him to. And it all stirs nice in the end, glossing up and clinging to the noodles. All ready for him to plate up, and decorate with cleanly fanned chicken breast strips, as well as the assorted greenfresh leafs. Just a little leaf, make it pop.

Vex adds his plate of cheeses, meats, fruits, and crackers to the table, as well as some juice and glasses. One glass, one plastic.

Hotguy huffs, but lets the cups stand as most likely a force of habit from Vex doing meals with his cooking deity. Not like there's anything he can find to complain about the shark board.

"So is this dinner and a movie or dinner and then a movie?" Hotguy cleans down the pots and pans and prep utensils immediately. Good habit, just like armor.

"Dinner first, movie second I'd say, though we could do dessert during movie. Probably easier to eat the pasta at a proper table." Vex lends a hand with the clearing.

A hand Hotguy steals to lean on- To escort him back to the table, when they finish up. "Quitter talk." Hotguy teases, settling into his seat. "Let's get it on with it, then." A statement which has nothing to do with the super subtle rumble of Hotguy's stomach when faced with the fruits and veggies of their labor.

They both dig in at once, Vex all mannerfully and Hotguy trying his best to eat properly. At least he doesn't have to contend with long spaghetti flinging sauce everywhere, the short spirals much easier to stab on a fork to transport to his mouth. Add a piece of chicken in between, and he's got a tasty mouthful.

He's no wanton thing, moaning between each bite. No, Hotguy merely hums his occasional appreciation, long habit from polite gala banquets. Break up the rich heaviness of the pasta and chicken with occasional sweet-sharp nibbles of jams and fruits, clear his palette. A feast, during which he only steals a dozen or two glances at Vex.

Who has no problem eating in companionable silence, by the looks of things. Or well, lack of talking at least, the music still going in the background.

Vex has a more upbeat playlist than Hotguy would expect, though on reflection he supposes if Vex enjoys Ari's music- Well, it's not all that surprising.

The food vanishes with startling speed, despite Hotguy not even trying to rush the meal for once. Fork clacks against plate, no more morsels to scoop up.

A good third of the shark board is gone too.

"That was a very lovely meal, thank you." Vex sets his cutlery down neatly. "Dessert and movie now?"

"You're quite welcome." Hotguy gives a seated bow. "What wicked dessert surprises do you have in store to ensnare me?" Despite having a good guess, Hotguy rumbles his question regardless.

"A raspberry cheesecake." Rising from his seat, Vex whisks their plates away, returning with the bakery box, setting it in front of Hotguy. "There you are. Picked it up for you on my way home from work. Custom order."

“You’re too thoughtful for a villain.” Hotguy steals one of Vex’s retreating hands in his own, nuzzling it. His other flips open the box, allowing him to behold decadently glistening fruit-blood rippled through the pale matte of cream. Perfect wounds slashed through the dessert, berries spilling to gather at the sides. “What are you waiting for? Get it served up, we have a movie to get to.”

"Right away." Turning up with a knife and two differently sized plates, Vex cuts a disappointingly small piece for the small plate, then loads almost half the remaining cake onto the other.

"Selfish villain, taking it all for yourself." Hotguy reaches for the plate with the smaller slice, just to see what Vex will do.

"Actually, that's your slice. Take them both to the couch? I'll be right behind you with the board and the drinks." A fork clinks onto each of the plates.

Hotguy rolls his eyes. So practical, his nemesis. "Fine, fine." Hotguy can do that. He can. Exactly nine steps from the table to the couch. Steady. Steady. Like balancing on the wires. He has to, so he will.

Pay no heed to the way he collapses into the couch at the end, plates clunking harshly, but safely, on the living room table.

Vex isn't far behind, balancing a fair few more things on a tray. Their glasses, some juice, the rest of the board. All of it goes on the table, within easy reach.

"What do we want to watch?" Vex picks up a tablet, pulling up the movie library.

Worming his way over to drape magnificently on Vex's shoulder, Hotguy peers down at the tablet. "Witness me!" Hotguy declares, stabbing at the picture of a guy in a muzzle. Fast cars, big explosions, fun action. What's not to like?

"Sure." Vex taps the few more buttons needed to make the movie appear on the screen. With the opening credits now running and Vex's hands free, Hotguy drags them both over to the best spots on the couch.

He has to stay close to Vex, make sure Vex doesn't end up too cold even with his jacket. Obviously. The car chases take a little longer to start than he'd remembered, but that just means time for Hotguy to snag his slice of cake. Too huge for one person, really, Hotguy offers random bites of it to Vex.

Accepting the bites, Vex offers Hotguy little shark bites in return. Cutting through the sweet with the savory-sharp cheese and fresh fruit.

Maybe just the smallest of moans escapes Hotguy, once, overwhelmed by the decadence Vex is showering him in. Revving engines, gunfire, and explosions quickly cover the sound. Resting his cheek on Vex's shoulder, Hotguy imagines what their fights would be like, with these sorts of pyrotechnics. Even more thrilling than they already are.

Maybe at some future point, two fae could fight like that. Darting through the sky, chasing each other. Sparks and flames painted across the sky, explosions well above where they might risk hurting anyone, just a bold display of their claims to one another.

Imagining that helps Hotguy keep his thoughts off of the on-screen budding trust between unlikely allies. Mm, none of that, just cake and spectacle. Just snuggling into Vex, this strange, soft, relaxed casual version of his archnemesis. Lights and sound and that quiet fire inside Hotguy.

Thinking can't touch him here, snuggled up to Vex. Vex steals all the thinking away, none left for him.

Hotguy can simply enjoy relaxing into the moment, breath sinking into a calm pattern.

"-otguy?" Vex's hand cups his cheek, those concerned glowing eyes inches from his own. Movie credits roll in the background.

"Vex." Unbidden, a bright smile spreads on Hotguy's face. Not his press grin, genuine. He gets this. He gets Vex's gentle care, and Vex's biting fists.

He gets all of his archnemesis' focus on him. Captured and claimed and adored. Inextricably bound. Vex, doubly marked with his arrow.

"You still with me?" Vex blinks slow curiosity, so open.

What else can Hotguy do but thunk his forehead into Vex's? "Always."

"Good. How are you doing, sleep-wise? Tired yet?" Vex ask, hand coming up to cup Hotguy's jaw.

"Hotguy doesn't get tired." Even if his head lists into Vex's hand, cradled comfortably.

"Mmmh but Hotguy does sleep." Vex hums. "You ready to do some sleeping?"

"I mean, Hotguy doesn't, really. Maybe once or twice when cranial sleep aids were kinetically applied." He hums. "Or when someone gets spicy with his drugs."

"So what I'm hearing is, you don't want to sleep with me." Vex grins. "Am I understanding that right?"

"Wait-" Understanding drops onto Hotguy with the force of a collapsing bridge. "Waitwaitwait- You're using your evil trickery words! You can't- You can't fool me! I am not missing the opportunity to take you to bed!"

"So, bedtime then?" Vex dips up to kiss Hotguy's nose.

"Spirit me to your bedchambers posthaste." He can't, Hotguy can't keep up the formal talk, pressing his face into Vex's shoulder to muffle his cackles.

"One Vex Airlines bedroom flight, coming right up." Vex scoops Hotguy up in his arms, carrying him off.

No one can complain about him getting carried just this once, not when Vex's magic is wound so tightly around him as to prevent his escape. Hotguy has to just lean into Vex and take it. The only option, until he's laid reverently onto the soft blankets of the bed.

"Kiss." He demands, not letting Vex go.

"As is your due." Vex bends in a way he could only accomplish with floating, pressing his chill lips to Hotguy's. As if the kiss itself is sharing the dancing tongues of flame between them, Vex warms, eager and open to Hotguy's pressing claim.

Pulling Vex down onto him, Hotguy leans back. Like a heated blanket, Vex drapes over him. Perfectly toasty-warm.

"Heavier." Hotguy demands of his feather-light Vex blanket. He needs to be crushed by the reality of these feelings. He needs to drown in them, in Vex.

Slowly, the weight bearing down on him increases, until he's being crushed by what he hopes is Vex's full bodyweight. Perfect.

Hotguy snugs his arms around Vex's waist. "Caught you."

"So you have. What do you plan to do with me now that you have me?" Vex presses more kisses to Hotguy's face.

Smooches Hotguy lazily returns, with interest. "Keep you forever, for one." That's the most important part of catching Vex. "Maybe show you a good time."

"A good time, huh? High promises." Vex challenges.

"Are you doubting my prowess in bed, nemesis mine?" Hotguy arches an eyebrow, slipping his hands down the back of Vex's sweatpants to squeeze that bonus cake.

"So what if I am? What are you going to do about it?" Vex grins down at him.

"Then I might have to give you some proof~" Hotguy rolls his hips up into Vex, grinding their bodies together through lace and fabric alike.

"Proof, huh? I'd like to see that." Grinding down into Hotguy's upward thrust, Vex leans down for another kiss.

Moaning freely into the kiss, Hotguy takes his sweet time to nip at Vex's lips, to tangle tongues with him, a clash of slick muscle, still faintly sweet. "Proof I can do." Somehow, Hotguy finds the willpower to gasp the words into the heated space between them. "Won't be a single evil thought left in you when I'm done."

Warm fingers worm between them, going for the tie on Hotguy's wrap pants. Then sink through him as cold fog to get the back tie.

With his hands already down Vex’s pants, the hardest part of sliding them off Vex is not losing his coordination to the frigid heat Vex’s phasing stirs in him. But Hotguy soldiers through, mind focused on his lace-trimmed prize. Just to make it even, he briefly cradles Vex’s covered bulge.

The lace can stay on a little longer. As a treat. A treat for whom is unimportant. What's important are his hands on warm skin, sensation over thought.

Unable to resist any longer, Hotguy grips Vex's hips, rolling them. His Vex, to pin to the bed. His Vex, adorned in his jacket. His Vex to nuzzle in and press biting kisses down that lovely, exposed neck.

So much more skin than Hotguy usually has access to. Sadly, unbruised, unblemished, but- That's for later. Right now, Hotguy is about taking Vex apart in other ways, not by force.

Leaving his mark in other ways. In hickies he can litter all over.

Listening to the way Vex's breath stutters and hitches under his teeth, tiny details usually lost to him in gusting winds and city bustle.

Vex's hands glide up through his stomach, kidneys, ribs. Usually a sign that a blow is coming, here nothing but a thrill building.

Something he can relax into and enjoy, instead of being on alert.

And he does enjoy it, doesn't he? His nemesis, touching him like no other can. Vex, shaped just for him, a monster made to match him.

What would Hotguy be today, if he didn't have a proper archnemesis? To strive against, to grow with. To make headlines with, and to fuel speculation with-

Well, none of them can know what actually goes on, off the rooftops. That's just for him and Vex to know. Even if the occasional flight of fancy dances close.

"Did you prepare for my arrival again, or is that for me this time?" Hotguy purrs, lungs expanding into icy hands, his own hands running circles on Vex's hips, just above lace.

"You get the pleasure of that today." Vex dances his fingers over each of Hotguy's ribs.

"All for me." Husky words, his own breath chill against his lips as he speaks.

As much as he doesn't want to, Hotguy drags one hand off of Vex, flailing it roughly in the direction of the bedside table. There has to be lube in there, right?

Plastic under his fingers. Sparing a glance, Hotguy finds what looks like a soap dispenser, one of the fancy automatic ones. Is that Vex's lube?

As his fingers fumble around it, it suddenly lights up and- Huh. It sure did just spit at him. Well, okay, it spat straight down, but close enough. Hotguy swipes his fingers through the puddle and finds it a familiar slickness, from the bottles slowly populating his apartment.

Useful little gadget, no lid fiddling. Hotguy couldn't walk away with it, but perhaps- Well that's a thought for someone else, later.

Right now, Hotguy has lube to smear on Vex's stomach. Little patterns and swirls until his fingers are clean enough to hook into the lace of Vex's panties, teasing them down, little by little. Revealing his prize, already on its way to greet him. Not yet proud and tall, but making good progress.

And who's to stop Hotguy from having a little snack before his meal? Not Vex, certainly, who has been nothing but the most hedonistic of enablers. So, once he discards Vex's underwear, Hotguy lets himself slide down, pressing kisses and licks to Vex's dick as he parts Vex's legs at the same time. He can multitask, after all.

Lips circling the tip of Vex's dick the same way his fingers circle Vex's hole.

A coordinated attack, taking the head of Vex's dick into his mouth as he slips a couple of knuckles into Vex. The novelty of taking his time and being gentle with his archnemesis is winning, the taste of Vex familiar and new at the same time. Vex could take so much more, but Hotguy only gives lazily shallow thrusts of his fingers, letting more of Vex into his mouth as Vex hardens under his lips.

Soft and cozy. A new dynamic for them, far from the usual adrenaline-laden rooftop chases.

What is Hotguy, without the adrenaline high and subsequent crash into unbeing? He never thought he'd be finding out, much less like this.

Vex's fingers curl into his hair, chill long since chased from them so they rest warm on Hotguy's scalp. Petting, not pulling. Like this softness has also infected Vex, pulling little gasping moans from him.

Hotguy hums. This warmth may be strange and new, but there is a comfort to it. Comfort isn't an entirely foreign concept to him, more that he isn't used to glutting on so much of it. Rare, to find physical comfort while parkouring over rooftops and fighting.

This place- A safe place to rest, where Hotguy doesn't have to be constantly scanning the skylines around him. A soft place, where he finds blankets and cushions under his knees rather than gravel and steel.

The whole thing could almost be too unfamiliar, if not for Vex here with him. Anchoring him, as this comfort envelops them. Whatever alchemy happens here, it takes them both.

Hotguy's hand only leaves Vex to gather more lube with a decisive wave, before diving back into Vex to wring more delicious sounds out, a task Hotguy's tongue joins in on. He speaks his favorite quips in silence, letting his tongue flick and swirl over Vex with the sounds.

His silence buys him one of the most gorgeous sounds there is. Vex, singing on his fingers. Dancing on them. Not in the crackly way, with ouches and broken bones. More like Hotguy is controlling Vex. Making him react. Like a sock puppet.

And isn't that a twist? For Hotguy to be the puppetmaster? Twirling and dipping Vex exactly as he pleases?

Hotguy could get used to this power.

Ah, but he can't let Vex sing their opening act forever. Not when there's a spectacular main event to get to. Not when he doesn't want to spoil Vex's appetite.

With a luxurious sigh, Hotguy pops off of Vex's cock. A fond farewell, one that promises many future trysts.

"Comfortable? Ready to face me once more?" Hotguy teases. Appropriate, isn't it? Doing this face-to-face with his archnemesis, the same as they always clash. But this time no crash, no crunch. A joining.

"For you, always." Vex promises, reaching out to wrap his arms around Hotguy. Pulling him close.

Their bodies, pressed together. Longing written in swathes of bare skin, answered in one fell swoop.

"Always." Hotguy echoes, the chant of a spell. This thing between them must be a kind of magic, to move the world in the impossible way that it does.

With a proper hitch of leg to give himself room to maneuver, Hotguy lines up his shot. No twang of loosed arrow this time, though, just his deliberate choice to sink himself patiently focused inch by inch into Vex's enveloping warmth.

Seated deep, Hotguy pauses. Leans into Vex to clack their masks together. To revel in this closeness that he's free to claim now.

Vex gives him a squeeze, the ring of glow within his eyes swimming with orange. Even this close, Vex fully continues staring at Hotguy, despite panting to catch his breath.

"So when do we get our fae marriage certificates?" Hotguy asks, grinning.

"To be fae married, we both have to be fae." Vex reminds him. Spoilsport.

Hotguy clonks their noses together. "With all your magic shots, we can both be fae, just for tonight." A slow roll of hips. "Don't you feel the magic?"

"I feel you. That's better than any magic." Breathy words, panted in the space between them, around Hotguy's motion.

"Flatterer." Hotguy schools his breathing. Steady, steady. "Tell me more." One hand settled on Vex's hip. Keeping up the low rock of motion between them. Can't make answering too easy on Vex, after all.

"What do you wanna hear? How perfectly you fill me? How good you look above me?" Vex slides one warm hand up to cup Hotguy's cheek.

“All of it.” Hotguy nuzzles into Vex’s touch, magnets slotting home. “I could listen to your dumb monologues all day.” Fondness colors his sigh, melting into the steadily building pleasure of the friction between them.

"You have an odd way of showing it. Interrupting me all the time." Vex quirks a smile at him.

"The only sound I love more than hearing you talk, is the impact of my knuckles on your cheek." Hotguy balls up a fist to carefully tap his knuckles against Vex's cheek, before needing the hand back for balancing himself. He can't collapse entirely onto Vex while he's being suave, after all. "I just get too eager to have you close to wait for you to finish."

"Shall I start scripting in fighting breaks?" Vex teases. "I do like to think I have an idea of just how long you can listen."

"Aw, but then I'd have to start varying it up to surprise you. Your eyes go all wide and flash so pretty-bright when I catch you off your guard." A kiss to Vex's palm, hiding Hotguy's smirk.

"No scheduled breaks then." Vex uses the hand already on Hotguy's face to tap Hotguy's nose. "Can't be depriving you of my surprised face now can I?"

"You can't, I'd riot." Just to drive home the point, Hotguy speeds into two pointed thrusts, before going back to slowly grinding rolls.

They don't get him Vex's surprised face, but the fluttering lashes and slack lips from the sudden influx of pleasure aren't bad either. Vex takes many hip rolls to sort himself out, with Hotguy watching every shift in expression closely.

"We can't- can't be having that. Can we." Breathless still, Vex manages out a few words.

"Of course not, can you imagine the headlines?" Hotguy chuckles. "Hotguy gone wild- Hotguy loses his marbles- What has Hotguy done with his masked archnemesis?" Words babbled in his deep chest announcing voice.

"Those do sound fun. Maybe I should drive you a little more crazy." Vex chuckles.

"You do. You make me-" Hotguy nips at the heel of Vex's palm. "You will be my fall." And- That doesn't sound like anchors of dread suspended over Hotguy's head anymore.

"Your fall." Vex murmurs, running the hand still on Hotguy's back over the line of skin where a wing would sit. Will sit. "Your fall, and your rise."

"Catching me in your mutamorphosis. Freeing me to rise in flight." Rhapsodic words, caught in the burning desire carving a home in his chest. "To soar with you." Hotguy can live with a spectacular fall, when he knows, believes, trusts, that his return after that swaddled break will be even more amazing. More powerful. More equal, with his partners.

"To fly with us." Vex pets down his back, hand coming up to tangle in Hotguy's hair after, pulling him down for a kiss as sweet as it is devouring.

To be consumed, allowing Vex's tongue to plunder his mouth and matching each exploring swipe with a thrust, a roll, tangling together kiss and fuck until there's no difference between the wash of sensual heat, melting their wax together into one bright swirl of color and moans and teeth and hips.

Swirling colors slow, cooling back into two separate bodies wrapped tight around each other. Hotguy's no longer buried in Vex, mess cooling between them and all over their thighs.

How'd they ended up flopped on their sides? Not that Hotguy can complain, when that leaves his arms free to tuck Vex close without concern for anything but the connection between them.

He should- Five minutes. He'll give himself five minutes of this calmly cloudsoft perfect moment, before he has to do any responsible cleaning things. Vex has to have wipes on hand, so he won't have to go far. Still, any amount of go is too far right now, with Vex nuzzled into him and sighing ever so contentedly.

Vex has this terrible cozy sleep spell that he weaves over Hotguy, just by being so close and so adorable. Who let Vex become something precious for Hotguy to protect? Something dear to Hotguy's slowly learning to beat heart?

"Terrible." Hotguy presses adoring kisses to the top of Vex's head.

"Always. Just to you. Special treatment, and all." Vex murmurs into Hotguy's shoulder.

"Especially awful to me." Hotguy agrees, in fond exasperation. Time up, he blindly gropes the desk again, seeking that crinkle of package. Even if he has to drag Vex with him to reach.

"Top drawer, all the way on the left." Vex informs him.

There is, in fact, a crinkly package there when Hotguy checks. ConCorp branded extra soft scentless skin-friendly wipes.

Maybe he'll tease Cuteguy later, about Vex using the same wipes as- But for now, Hotguy has a Vex to focus on, before they get sticky-crunchy.

Admittedly, the wipes really are nice, cleaning without tearing or shedding fiber everywhere, with just enough dampness to smooth the way without being sodden. Just exactly like maintaining his equipment after a patrol, Hotguy meticulously wipes down Vex in thoroughly focused attentiveness.

Vex returns the favor, cleaning Hotguy. At no point does either of them let go of the other.

A huge sigh gushes out of Hotguy, with that responsibility complete. Wipes put away, bodies pressed back close together and warming the lack-of-space between them once more. They fit together all-too-well.

Blinks slowing, nothing forcing Hotguy to prop his eyelids up anymore.

Come morning light, who knows who he'll be, but right now? He has his fated nemesis tucked safely close, and that's all he truly needs.

...he is going to liberate that threatened plush on his way out, though.a

[varanere00]

Chapter four of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt), fae court convexian shenanagins as co-written by @whisperwritingstuff and @varanere00 is now up!

Read chapter four here!

[varanere00]

Chapter 3 of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt), convexian fae court shenanagins as co-authored by @whisperwritingstuff and @varanere00 is now up on Ao3! Recovery times ahead for the darlings, and mayhaps a touch more of plot? Read chapter three here!

[varanere00]

Chapter 2 of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt), fae-courts Convexian shenanagins as co-written by @whisperwritingstuff and @varanere00 is now live on Ao3! Today, we arrive in the faeworld! Fun times are had by all, surely! Now featuring at least one [1] more Hermit!

Come read chapter 2 here!

[whisperwritingstuff]

chapter 2 of Vitamin Monday [working title], enemies/lovers convex heroverse shenanigans co-authored by @varanere00 and myself Hotguy and Vex clean up, and showers go as they so often do in the concave- enjoy!

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"Hi." Hotguy blinks up at Vex, bestowing him with a blinding smile.

"Hello, yourself." Vex responds with a dazzling smile of his own that leaves Hotguy breathless. So much so, that Vex has him halfway unstrapped before Hotguy realizes what Vex is doing.

"Y'got another torture device lined up for me?" Only when the words come out clearly does Hotguy realize that Vex's voice only echoes faintly in his mind, no longer clearly droning over his every thought.

"That depends." Faintly amused, Vex undoes the last strap. Instead of picking Hotguy up to take him to this new torture device however, Vex simply pets Hotguy's cheek.

"Depends?" This time, Hotguy leans into the touch.

"On what your definition of a shower is." Vex smiles softly.

"Shower full of drugged soap and laced water?" There's plenty of ways to trap a shower, for someone as clever as Vex. Hotguy will figure out his angle here.

Vex chuckles. "That would be counterproductive, when I will be in there with you, as well."

"Huh." Hotguy's unsure how to respond to that, his mind taking its sweet time to surface from the stickysweet relaxation.

"Come. Let's get going. The sooner we shower, the sooner I can get you some proper leg massages. Would you like a lift?" Vex offers.

"I'll walk." Automatic, habitual, correct. Hotguy pushes himself up. "And my legs are fin-" The traitors stagger hard under Hotguy, his usual force of will not stopping the rough stumble.

"Careful there." Once again, Hotguy finds himself in Vex's arms, cradled like he's something precious. Vex had changed, at some point. No longer in his armor, he now wears a lab coat over a plain black t-shirt.

Vex does not, as expected, scoop Hotguy up in his arms to whisk him away. Instead, he stays a steady presence to cling to, offering an arm.

Cautiously, suspiciously, Hotguy leans his weight on Vex's shoulder. "I'm always careful." He huffs, making precise steps toward his own bathroom.

"Much of the time." Vex matches his pace, heading out of the lab and through the hall.

When they reach Vex's door though, Vex pauses.

"I've got everything prepared for us here. Clean clothes set out, and such."

"For... us?" The question slips Hotguy's grip. If this really isn't some kind of new trap, then. Why is he still here?

"Yeah. Both of us. Wasn't about to make you shower alone." Vex nods, completely serious. Not a hint of deceit to be found. "Unless you'd prefer that?"

"I should." Hotguy's grip on Vex's arm tightens. He knows what's the right and proper way of things. Showering alone. Jerking off hastily to the pale memory. Putting himself back together again, and acting like this experience hasn't burned itself into the fabric of his very soul.

"Do you want to?" Vex asks. No pressure, no demands. No coercion. Just a simple question, pitted against Hotguy's will. Giving him the space to choose for himself while Vex looks at him with those unreasonably caring eyes.

“Stop making me want things.” Hotguy tries to blame the longing in his chest on the echoes of Vex’s voice in his head, on the lingering drugs, on anything at all.

"Want more things." Vex counters, endlessly patient as he waits for Hotguy's decision.

Hotguy sighs. "You corrupt me." Without further words, he shuffles toward the door of Vex's room. He- He's just sparing himself the indignity of Vex finding him, concussed in the shower alone. Just staying where he can keep an eye on Vex.

Keeping pace, Vex remains a steady handhold all the way to the bathroom. Where there thankfully is a shower bench for Hotguy to sink down onto.

"I'll be right with you." A soft kiss to Hotguy's cheek, then Vex steps out of the shower to undress.

Hotguy lets his head thump quietly back against the tile wall behind him. Why is he still here? This isn't Hotguy business. This is the domain of some other deity, who staunchly refuses to come to the phone.

Indulgence. Desires. Things that should be utterly foreign to him, fluttering under his skin.

But more than that, he's tired, and sore. The world cold and just- less magical, than it felt only minutes ago.

The cold part at least is helped when a naked Vex joins him, turning on the soft rainfall shower.

Warm washes over Hotguy without delay, Vex's fancy shower not needing any time for the water to heat.

"Hey there." Vex settles on the bench next to Hotguy. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." The quick, reflexive answer. Hotguy is always fine. Always ready for others who need help. Even if those others are a villain, who needs a warm shoulder from Hotguy slumping into his side.

"Fine." Vex echos, chewing over the answer he's been given as they both sit under the pleasantly warm water. "So you are not feeling exhausted?" Vex asks, after his quiet contemplation.

"I can keep going." Hotguy's quite familiar with pushing through unimportant things like exhaustion. Why is Vex's shoulder such a comfortable place to rest his cheek? There's really no reason for Vex to be so fussy about it.

"There is no need for you to keep going. You can rest." Vex wraps both arms around Hotguy, holding him close. Not trapping or pinning, but caring. Soft. "Even if just for a little bit."

"You temptation." Hotguy sighs, but- Just one hand, one arm, tucks around Vex to keep him close. "I was never meant for resting." The thought sighs out of him, without him having meant to do more than think it.

"There are many things we are not made for, yet must do regardless." Vex reaches over, grabbing- soap. Familiar bottles, the kinds Vex prefers.

"What are you made for?" Hotguy steals a swipe of soap, outlining his logo on Vex's arm.

"Originally, I suppose the same as every other human. But I remade myself, for you. To be your nemesis. To be what you need." Vex eyes Hotguy critically. "And right now, what you need is rest."

"To be what I need." Hotguy fills in Vex's logo, next to his own. "I'm what the city needs, and you're what I need." Sounds like nonsense, but it feels right. Balanced. Alluring. "My nemesis." He laughs. "If I am a little tired, it's your own damn fault."

"Then I suppose I will have to take responsibility." Vex says, earnest as ever. "Make sure you get the rest you need."

Hotguy drags his other arm up, just so he can brush the damp curls of Vex's hair back. "You are a strange man." Strange, but not unpleasant.

"So I've been told." Vex goes about soaping Hotguy up. Working the suds into every crevasse of his body. Not even his still straining dick is spared Vex's attentions.

"Gonna take care of that too?" Hotguy cracks open one eye that had fallen shut, to lazily watch Vex's hands roam over his thighs, his dick.

"Is that something you want?" Vex asks, ghosting his fingers over flushed skin in a barely-there touch. Teasing.

"It is another problem you caused." Hotguy hums, legs sliding wider open.

"Tell me, then. Tell me that's what you want. Tell me you want me to get you off." Vex challenges, hand hovering, petting just beside where Hotguy wants him to.

"I-" Hotguy's stomach swoops out from under him, far more than leaping between buildings. His eyes flick down anyway, not to himself, but over the soft, blue curve of Vex's thighs. Where Vex isn't about to start chiseling diamonds or anything, but a hint of interested chub rises from between them. "I think about your hands, more than I should. About your gloves, and about your callouses."

"Do you, now?" Vex rumbles, massaging Hotguy's thighs. "What do I do with my hands, when you think about them?"

"Sometimes, you let me study them. Let me learn every wrinkle by touch and by sight and by sketch." Hotguy grins. He doesn't do frivolous painting, but quick-sketching is a useful skill to have. Why not practice with something pleasant? "Sometimes, you're touching me. Usually holding me down, but occasionally just... Feeling. Every part of me. Claiming my pleasure for your own."

"And what do you want me to do with them now?" Moving his massaging up to Hotguy's hips, Vex slides down around, kneeling before Hotguy. Between Hotguy's spread legs.

And isn't that a sight, those devoutly earnest eyes, glowing up at him? Doesn't that feel like a victory already? Hotguy pets one heavy hand over Vex's hair, needing the time for his words to come to him. "I want." And isn't that his heart in his throat to say? "I want you." Honesty, raw and speckled in gravel. "I want you to share pleasure with me."

"I can do that." Vex leans in, closing his hand around Hotguy's dick as he nuzzles it. No soap remains, all washed away by the warm rain, leaving Vex free to spread kisses and licks down Hotguy's length.

A long groan reverberates in Hotguy's chest, nothing short of decadent. "You want me." The words feel like a discovery, like something important. Like a latch stuck just to the left finally jiggling into place. By now Vex has had a million chances to call for that soft, silly thing that claimed lair time for its own, but he hasn't.

"I do. In all your iterations, with all your up- and downsides." Words spoken, Vex wraps his lips around Hotguy's dick. Engulfs him in that hidden warmth, sinking down and down, until lips meet body. Until Hotguy is fully sheathed in Vex's throat.

If he had more energy, Hotguy would be bucking up into that warmth. As it stands, or well, as he sits, that sounds like far too much trouble when he can lean back, relax, and let Vex's mouth bring the pleasure to him. He doesn't even have to worry about choking Vex like this, even with Vex all the way at his base. Just comfortable liquid heat, tightness that winds up through him like Vex's ropes. His nemesis, his reflection.

Sucking him so good, one hand petting Hotguy's thigh, the other playing with his balls. Steady ebb and flow of pleasure, Vex rising and falling on Hotguy's dick like waves on a shore. Slow, steady, sure. Bringing pleasure Hotguy has to do nothing for but accept. Relax.

The echoes of Vex’s droning voice chime resonance with Vex’s motions in the undercurrents of Hotguy’s thoughts. Enjoy. Sink. Let go.

Hotguy’s climax rises up smoothly to meet him, his lips gasping Vex’s name.

Nursing Hotguy through it, Vex doesn't let up. Not until he's licked up every trace of spend, licked Hotguy's dick clean again.

"You're too handsome like that." Hotguy murmurs, as Vex rests his cheek on Hotguy's thigh to look up at him in peaceful adoration. Nothing fanatical, nothing fervent, in this moment, only more of that odd gentleness. That care. He has to pet Vex's hair, he's gotta.

"Thank you. You make quite the sight from this angle as well." Leaning into the petting, Vex presses a row of kisses to Hotguy's thigh. "Do you need to wash your hair?"

"Don't push your luck." Heart thumping with even the thought of taking his mask off around Vex- "I prettied up before leaving, anyway."

"Did you, now?" Vex gives another nuzzle to Hotguy's thigh before pushing himself up to stand.

"Mhm, can't be fighting crime all dirty and stinky." What if his adoring audience caught him like that? No, no.

With Vex standing, he makes a perfect target for Hotguy to loop an arm around his torso, tugging him close.

If this impedes Vex washing himself well, that can't be helped.

"Even dirty and stinky, you make a striking figure. A very rugged look." Vex points out.

"You like me rugged, hm?" Hotguy lets a hand wander down to grope at Vex's butt, a fine handful. All his. "Is that why you toss me through walls and floors?" He teases.

"I appreciate a good rugged handsomeness. Looks good on you." Vex nods, flexing his butt in Hotguy's hands.

"And your bruises, do those look good on me, too?" Hotguy muses, squeezing Vex's booty one more time before trailing his hand around to Vex's front. To the crease of Vex's thigh. Still so odd, for Vex to not have any hair down there, to frame his dick. No, it stands alone, bauble gleaming at the end.

"Those are the most exquisite decoration upon your skin." Vex agrees solemnly, showing no outward reaction to Hotguy exploring his dick.

On the bauble, an inlaid arrow design glints in the bathroom light.

"That, perhaps, we can agree on." Hotguy rolls the ball carefully in his fingers, not twisting too much. Made by his own hands, with his own arrow, to mark Vex. Like a wing gift, of the most perverse sort.

Marking Vex as his. His, and his alone. A claim, known only to them.

"I want to touch you." Hotguy murmurs, in between kisses to Vex's chest and stomach, to the rib he'd cracked before and longs to snap again.

"I'm yours to touch. Every part of me." Finally finished with his washing, Vex steps forward so he's right up against the edge of the bench, once again between Hotguy's legs.

"All mine." Hotguy lets his hand slide down Vex's dick, shapes familiar for his fingers to grasp loosely. "To hurt, and to-" Steady strokes, bringing Vex up to hardness. "Please."

This time, Vex moans softly, hands clinging to Hotguy's shoulders. Tangible feedback of the pleasure he's bestowing on Vex.

Reflections, Hotguy mirrors back the touches to his balls from Vex, alongside steady strokes base to tip. This is a new kind of Vex music, to him. Far more used to grunts and groans and yelps- But these moans have their own charm, too, this weight.

"Hotguy..." Vex pants, clinging tight to Hotguy's shoulders. Melodic chiming, as Vex's wings tremble, panes knocking into each other. A symphony, his Vex. Just for him.

All set to the pitter-patter of the warm rain around them, softening the moment into something that lingers oddly sweet on his tongue.

"That's me. Hotguy." A habitual wink, followed by a hum. "Your Hotguy." He nuzzles into Vex's chest.

"My Hotguy." Vex gasps, spilling all over him.

"You've made a right mess of me all over again." Hotguy drags Vex down, stealing his stupidly handsome mouth for a kiss. "Good."

"Good." Vex pants, echoing the sentiment. "I love making messes out of you." He flows easily into kiss after kiss, meeting Hotguy each time.

"The sentiment's mutual." Hotguy cackles, tugging Vex closer, so he can smear the mess between them. Infinite kisses, of which Hotguy takes his fair share.

What wonders Vex has, that despite how long they've been in here, the water doesn't grow cold. No icy chill to douse this sweet warmth between them, nothing forcing them to flee its frigid touch.

No, the only cold thing here is Vex, and he's merely cool. Chilled blue skin, smooth under Hotguy's touch.

Vex, a perfect tower for Hotguy to pull himself back upright with. The exhaustion weighs less heavy on Hotguy's bones, for the moment, and he needs to move.

One hand on Vex's waist, the other lacing their fingers together. Pulling Vex in a loose waltz through their own personal rainstorm, cleansing away everything around them.

Smiling, Vex leans their foreheads together. Letting Hotguy lead as they spin in lazy circles. Mirrored, to the rapid dance of earlier, its bruises still in the process of blooming bright on Hotguy's skin. A private garden, of Vex's creation.

Swaying together, to their own beat. As much as Hotguy might imagine staying here in this paradise forever-

"Let's get you out of here before you turn into a big blue raisin." They'll be back. Hotguy will have many more chances to dance, and dance, with his archrival.

With a kiss to Hotguy's nose, Vex agrees, turning off the water. He offers a steady arm to grip as they leave the shower, and a bright towel in Hotguy colors with the logo in the middle once they're out.

Perfect for Hotguy to attack Vex with! Scrubby ruffling up Vex's hair before Vex can magic it dry! Cackling all the while, of course.

"My turn." Vex brandishes a Vex branded towel. Instead of the same furious attack, he takes his time. Lovingly rubs and pats dry each bit of Hotguy in turn.

"Softie." Hotguy sighs with a not insignificant amount of fondness. "C'mon."

Towels discarded to their hooks, Hotguy pulls Vex along. Not far, Hotguy can make it that distance, even if tremors shake his strides. Just the few steps out of the bathroom, to the bed.

Where he can collapse in the soft fluff, pulling Vex down with him. Warming skin under his hands is odd still, yet somehow also thrilling. Discovering new sides of Vex.

Those warming hands dig into whatever muscle they can reach, kneading and massaging.

Melting down under Vex's touch, familiar. Gasps and groans, as Vex's relentless hands taffy-tug muscles who stand no chance of resisting him, no matter how stubborn. Maintenance? No, that's not the word.

Rebirth. Becoming, all over again. Nothing to do but relax and enjoy the ride.

A singular short span of time without Vex's hands on him.

When they return, all slippery-slick, they somehow manage to dig even deeper, find aches previously untouched. Vex isn't phasing, no telltale cold, but he might as well be for how deep inside Hotguy he reaches.

Good burn, the same as Vex's injected magic. How could Hotguy worry, when he knows these are Vex making him stronger, more able to stand beside one another. More capable of pushing each other to new heights.

So for now, Hotguy melts. Aches flare and fade without concerning him. All he cares about is when Vex's hands slow, try to draw back- Because that's when Hotguy needs to marshal all his strength to drag Vex down atop himself. Warm, heavy, good.

"Yeah, alright. We can cuddle before dinner." Vex snuggles up to him, warm and alive and here. Vex is here. Hotguy gets to hold him, after Vex took such wonderful care of him.

Hotguy only tucks Vex closer, dragging blankets over them, heedless of oil smears. This feels- Forbidden. To get to stay, to hold Vex close. That's just- Not a Hotguy thing.

But Hotguy has claimed it now, and he's not letting go.

"You waste so much time on meals." Of course Vex already has plans for dinner. How does he even find time to do villaining with all this food?

"Good nutrition is the basis of good health. If you can't even take care of yourself, how can anyone expect you to take care of others?" Vex shrugs. "Or, in my case, how can I expect my body to be at peak performance for you, if I don't take proper care of it? Give it the proper fuel? Like any tool, a body requires care."

"There's nutrition, and then there's taking ten years on lavish frills." Hotguy clonks their foreheads together. "Bars and drinks haven't failed me yet."

"There have actually been studies that directly link enjoyment of the meal and familiarity of the cuisine to a significant increase in nutrient absorption." Vex smiles at him. "So, in other words, tasty food is better for you than bland food. Even if it contains the same nutrients. There's scientific proof and everything."

“What? No- Really? No way.” Hotguy blinks bafflement, shaking his head. “That can’t be right- Doesn’t make any sense!”

"Shall I provide you with references? Not right now, but I can send you links to the studies and their findings. They had some very telling graphs in there." Vex offers.

“I’ll have to investigate later, see if it’s some of your evil science full of crimes.” Hotguy huffs. Surely, surely that can’t be right. But he can deal with that later. For now, he has a Vex to steal the toastywarms from. “Fine, you can have a provisional dinner, just this once.”

"Thank you." Vex kisses his cheek. "Shall we cook or would you prefer ordering in? I've got the kitchen stocked."

"Ordering in would be more efficient." Every word of that feels like claws scrabbling against the inside of Hotguy's chest.

"By what metric?" Vex sounds so genuinely curious. "Neither of us is leaving here before tomorrow morning. We have nothing else to do. I know I enjoyed learning to cook on earlier occasions."

"By the meter of less time spent on the meal, and more time for, I dunno, other stuff." Sucking mud, dragging at the steps of Hotguy's words. "If you enjoy this cooking stuff so much, how come Joel's so convinced you don't cook, mm?"

Only belatedly does Hotguy realize he didn't even protest the thought of staying the night.

"It's not the cooking I enjoy. It's the teaching." The look Vex gives him is the softest, sappiest one yet. Right, of course, the fae courting ritual of personally teaching meaningful skills. No wonder Vex is so goopy about this. Instincts clouding up his brain. "What would you do, with the time we don't spend on cooking? Watch movies? Cuddle? Talk?"

"You want me to do so many things I'm not made for." What use does Hotguy have for cuddling and talking? Would he even be able to teach Vex- "We could fight again." Even if Hotguy's body wholesale protests the suggestion with a shudder.

"No." Vex shuts that suggestion down hard. "I'm beat. No more fight left in me today. If you wanted to do something fight related, though, we could both do gear maintenance?"

"Ugh, I'm gonna have to triple check everything after you got your grubby paws on it." Hotguy steals one of said paws, pressing his lips to the palm.

"We could each just do our own things. Then you wouldn't have to check. Though I suppose I did take it off you." Vex muses, taking advantage of the position of his hand to tap a finger to Hotguy's nose.

"That's what I meant, you stripping it off me as you bound me to your devious brainwashing and torture devices." Hotguy snaps his teeth lazily in the direction of the tapping finger, even though all that does is bump his chin into the heel of Vex's palm.

"Mhm. Me telling you that all I did was remove your armor from you and leave it in a pile wouldn't help, would it?" Vex gives one more cheeky finger wiggle.

"Of course not." Hotguy licks Vex's palm. "A Hero has to do do do do do diligence." He can't let himself get sloppy, just because they have this- Thing, between them. Can't break habit.

"I figured." Vex sighs. "So we cook a quick dinner, then do gear maintenance with a movie on in the background?"

"Why me?" The words burst out of Hotguy. This is- It's nice, but it's too nice. Too strange and different, even from the new-different normal between them.

"Mh? What do you mean?" Vex blinks at him, confused.

"Shouldn't you have called for your Neit by now?" As much as Hotguy wants to hoard Vex time to himself, not knowing when- He'd rather have answers.

"Do you not want to be here?" Vex looks taken aback. "I thought we were having a good time. You put on the mask and everything."

The mask...

Hotguy brings a hand up to trace the edge of his face, his mask, everything exactly as it should be.

He'd let himself forget, that this isn't his usual mask. Despite looking identical, this one has no metal components. Nothing that would make a blender bottle out of the scanning tube.

Vex had gifted this mask to Hotguy. Clues, a hunt through the city, this prize under his fingers at the end.

"I was talking about what you want, not- It wasn't a complaint." Hotguy still isn't sure what to do with Vex wanting him to want things so much. That's not. Something Hotguy does. Or, he didn't, before.

His free hand moves to Vex's, grasping, squeezing. Hotguy doesn't know how to speak the reassurances that are real, not just- Words to keep bystanders calm. So he hopes Vex can feel what he has no words to say, in their joined hands.

"Like I said. I want all of you. Every bit you see fit to grant me." Vex squeezes his hand back.

"All of me includes those- that- Includes me beyond me. How am I supposed to know, which me you want in any moment?" Hotguy just keeps plunging ahead with his words, hoping that any of it manages to be anything. How is he supposed to word any of this? He's never had to before.

"What do you mean, 'which you I want'? This isn't a me thing. It's a you thing." Vex pulls their combined hands close, kissing the back of Hotguy's.

"You don't make any sense. What do you mean it's a me thing?" Hotguy's fingers twitch, hand still holding tight.

"Why would I have any say in who you are? You decide that." Vex does that thing where he tips his head, or at least tries to. There's a pillow in the way.

"You already do!" Hotguy snaps, pouncing on a point he can actually grasp. "You call for different faces. And you shape them. You shape me. You have- Don't tell me you have no say in who I am."

"Practically, we are all shaped by those around us, yes. You too have shaped me in a great many ways, including physically." A wing settles over them, crystalline and warm. "What I mean is. How do I say this. You shouldn't- you shouldn't, like, bend yourself into shape around me. Shouldn't match your personality to my whims. Shouldn't force yourself to be who I want, just because I ask for it or may want it."

"Why not?" That doesn't make any sense. Yes, he knows Vex likes being challenged, but- "Don't lie- You were distraught when you called for Neit, and Doll stayed." Hotguy's not asking for much, just to understand when to rotate his masks. He used to be good at this cycle, he can get good again.

"I was. Because we both had expected Doll time to end, and when that didn't go as planned, I feared I had lost the rest of you. Including this you. Doll is amazing and fun, but as I have said before, I want all of you. The prospect of loosing that to my own folly-" Vex shudders, sighing heavily. "Not going to lie, is a daunting one." Fingers squeeze Hotguy's hand tighter, wing pressing them together more firmly.

Hotguy hooks a leg over Vex's, tucking close in his own way. "You can't shake me that easily. I've got my sights on you." Quiet breaths together, Hotguy pressing a cheek to Vex's. "But what if I followed your advice. What if just one of me decided to stay, for good, no matter what you wanted. You don't want that." Contradictions, needing resolution.

"But the rest of you would still exist, not be wiped from the face of the earth. If you only choose to share one part of you, I can accept that. It would be hard, I won't lie, but I can." Vex ducks down, tucking himself under Hotguy's chin as he presses ever closer.

"It would be lonely and strange." Hotguy agrees, he doesn't like the sound of either stopping being Hotguy, or of being Hotguy all the time. As amazing as he is- No one needs a repeat of that, his body simply can't take the strain. No amount of will or wanting can bridge that gap. "I'm not going anywhere, I've got you. Too much of me wants too much of you to hide away like that." He wraps himself around Vex, as if he could protect Vex from those fears.

Pressed tightly into his shoulder, Vex gives a wet laugh. "Thank you. That is surprisingly relieving to hear." Snuffling in tighter, Vex's breathing falls into a very familiar, structured pattern under Hotguy's hands.

Hotguy steadies out his breathing to match Vex’s, free hand rubbing up and down Vex’s back in time. Careful, careful to not brush up against Vex’s wings. “You’re good, it’s all good.” Humming quietly, Hotguy pieces together his words. “I can’t be the way I am right now forever, but I can stay a while longer. Dinner and a movie, you say?”

"Dinner and a movie. Yeah. Like a classic date." There's a hint of lilac rimming Vex's eyes when he draws back from his tuck into Hotguy's shoulder.

"A classic date with my one and only archnemesis. Sounds fun." Hotguy gives Vex a grin, the sharp one from the rooftops, not the nice one for the cameras. He finds his free hand up on Vex's face, thumb swiping over that faint lilac, as if he could smudge it away.

"It does." Vex's returning grin wobbles, but holds its own ferocity. Vex even leans in to steal a quick kiss before pulling back. "I can go grab the clothes I set out for us. Unless you'd prefer to choose your own?"

"Go ahead and dress me in your evil frippery." As much as Hotguy would like to stick with Vex like glue right now, he's going to need his standing for- Whatever the hell kind of cooking he's going to have to figure out. So Hotguy steals their hands for one final kiss to the back of Vex's before letting go.

Fortunately, Vex isn't gone for long. A quick dip into the bathroom, returning with two neat stacks of clothing in hand. Vex is back in bed before Hotguy has any kind of chance to get into any kind of emotion.

Hotguy yanks Vex close to steal another kiss. It'd be better with Vex slammed against the wall of some stupid industrial venting, them hiding from the glare of the sun, but this is good too. That business concluded, Hotguy sits himself on the edge of the bed. "Well? Get to it."

The first thing Vex offers him is a pair of lacy Vex-branded panties. Excessively lacy, but good coverage and junk support at least, even if the lace would chafe if worn under his uniform.

Hotguy's not wearing his uniform. Won't be wearing it all night. So he nods, allowing Vex to put the garment on him. Just how many branded panties does Vex have?

After the panties, it's easier to accept the plain grey t-shirt, thigh high fuzzy socks, and red wrap pants with fancy patterns woven in. All comfortable and soft on his skin, fitting him perfectly.

"Your obsessive attention to details does come in handy sometimes." Hotguy finishes rolling his shoulders, kicking his legs. None of the range of moment he might need is impeded by the outlandishly comfortable clothing. "Now, let's get you all armored up for the occasion." He goes after Vex's pile of clothing.

Vex picked himself out a similarly lacy set of Hotguy panties. A set Hotguy has seen on Vex before, given there's a limited amount of lace panties with Hotguy branding. Only two runs. Vex steps into the offered panties with no resistance and a soft smile.

Hotguy pats Vex's butt cheeks, a vital check to ensure they're good and cozy in their lace. Mhm, mhm, very quality, yes. What was he- Ah, yes, clothing, yes. Hotguy sweatpants, well-worn enough for the branding to begin to fade, but soft as all get out as he slides them up Vex's legs.

Socks next, also Hotguy themed. Vex must really like wearing his colors. Flattering.

Following up with a well loved Hotguy tee, his own face smiling up at him from Vex's chest.

The last item on the pile is a jacket, to keep his Vex nice and toasty. Picking said jacket up, familiarity lingers in the feel of the fabric. Not until he goes to put the jacket on Vex does Hotguy realize why. This jacket- it's his jacket. Was his jacket. Hotguy's uniform jacket. The one he draped over Vex, way back when.

Once again, Hotguy wraps the soothing warmth of his jacket around Vex. "Next thing you know, we'll be making a shark board." He chuckles. "Damn, you look good in my colors."

"Thank you. And I do think I have the ingredients for an improvised charcuterie board, if you'd like that with dinner." Vex offers a hand to help Hotguy up.

"For nostalgia's sake." Hotguy readily takes Vex's hand, yanking himself upright to thump their chests together. "Hi."

"Hello." Vex kisses his nose. "You ready?" Again Vex offers his arm.

"Of course! Onward!" Hotguy seizes Vex's arm, marching them to the kitchen without delay.

[edgewitch]

Lo! for i have participated once again in MCYTblr AUfest @mcytblraufest. This year's format was a Mini Bang, so this is an illustration for a scene from chapter 2 of I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt) by Varanere @varanere00 and WhisperNorbury @whisperwritingstuff (do note: while not rated or archive warned, the fic contains explicit sex, explicit violence, and assorted consent fuckery played as dubcon. mind the tags!)

[varanere00]

I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt)

A new co-writing project between @varanere00 (Ao3) and @whisperwritingstuff (Ao3)! This fic was written for MCYTBLR AU Fest Summer 2026, @mcytblraufest, with beta editing by @bearwritesthings (Ao3), and art done by @edgewitch (Ao3) (which will feature in the second chapter). We had a blast making a new AU and working with our beta and artist to bring this story to life. Updates planned for Tuesday/Friday/Sunday this week and next, posted directly to Ao3. Enjoy some more convexian shenanigans, fae-style!

Read 'I will take you home (zu den Bäumen der anderen Welt)' on Ao3 Main relationship: Cubfan135/GoodTimesWithScar/Grian Fandom: Hermitcraft/Life Series Rating: Unrated/Explicit Words: 13 344/113 766 Archive warnings: Chose not to Warn AU: Faecourts Impotant Tags: minor dubcon (tho everyone is into it), depictions and themes of decay, blood and injuries, explicit sex Summary: Fae Prince Scar seduces human Grian into the fae world, complicated by rival fae Prince Cub vying for Scar's attention. Can they work out something between the three of them?

Here's a little teaser!

"I could feed you! You could come with me." Ash offers, sounding fully earnest. A glance at him where he's walking beside Grian reveals his expression matches, open and sincere, and that the rosemary sprig with its little paper lantern blossoms is now stuck in his hair.

Wait. Is that chicken of the woods? Grian pauses, stepping past Ash to inspect a fallen tree.

Sure is, a closer inspection reveals exactly what he thought. If Grian could make it home today, he'd stir fry them with a few potatoes and the wild garlic. Alas, that's not looking likely, so he'll have to settle for roasting them over a fire.

"We've already been over why I won't take food from you." Grian sees no reason to re-hash the topic, too busy harvesting a reasonable portion of the mushrooms. Ash, of course, is no help, simply wandering over to perch on the tree trunk.

"Aw, but I told you, I know my morsels!" Ash protests.

"They're called morels Ash, not morsels." Grian sighs. That's enough mushrooms for him, with plenty still on the tree.

"I suppose you would know, being a morsel yourself, and all." Ash nods, rosemary sprig in his hair bobbing with the motion.

"I'm not a mushroom." Grian tucks away the mushrooms he gathered into his hoodie pouch, re-sheathing his knife.

"The mushrooms chatter about you, you know. They say your hands are ever so clever." Ash gives him a dreamy look. "That's why I sought you out."

"What are you on about, mate? Mushrooms don't talk. Besides, 'sought me out' makes you sound creepy and stalkerish." Contrary to his words, Grian settles on the tree trunk as well, an arm's length away from Ash. Far enough to be proper, not tempting Grian to lean in and lick Ash. Kinda annoying that he still wants to do that. But hey, the guy's hot enough Grian could roast his mushrooms on Ash, so can he be blamed? It's been ages since Grian got in more than a quick shower time wank. Of course he'd have some inappropriate thoughts when presented with such a scantily clad specimen! He simply has enough sense and self control not to act on them.

"I didn't stalk you!" Ash protests. "Spending a few minutes admiring you from afar after the mushrooms told me of you is not stalking. It's admiring. You deserve to be admired, G, baby. You're beautiful." The look Ash follows that up with has Grian's mouth rapidly drying out. Like Ash wants little more than to devour Grian, leaving Grian sorely tempted to let him. To give in to the wispy, unreal dreamlike quality that being around Ash evokes, and dive in headfirst. To take what they both so obviously want-

"See, now that's exactly what a stalker would say." Grian forces teasing words over dry lips. Ash watches them like a bird of prey when Grian flicks out his tongue, trying to wet them.

"Aw, come on, Sunshine! Live a little! Take a risk! I promise I can make it good for you!" Ash coaxes, leaning towards Grian.

"No thanks. I'd rather play it safe. That's served me well this far." Instead of leaning in, Grian reaches over to pluck the rosemary from Ash's hair. "Here. You got a little something stuck there." He hands the freed sprig to Ash.

For a split second, something that can't possibly be terror replaces the confusion on Ash's face.

"How kind of you!" Ash accepts the sprig, tossing it away like it's nothing. "Though I'm afraid I must be going, so you'll have to accept this as your thanks." Taking Grian's hand in his, Ash kisses the back while maintaining eye contact. Slowly, sensually, yet surprisingly dry. Even when Ash flips Grian's hand to press a cheeky, fleeting kiss to palm as well that only fans the heat pooling in Grian's gut. He's never had his hand kissed before while being flirted with.

"Wait. What do you mean, you need to go? We're in the middle of nowhere!"

"Oh, you know how it is. Places to be, functions to attend, people to show up. Or maybe you don't. Either way, dream of me, sweet sunshine!" Ash pats Grian's knee, and between one moment and the next, he's gone, leaving nothing but a vague memory of golden backs disappearing between trees and an odd sense of loss between Grian's ribs, curling around him like a cold breeze.

[varanere00]

sand in my joints (smoothe me out)

ao3 link

solo written for e/l verse during 2026 MCYT Battleship

Hotguy drapes himself over Cub's shoulders, picture perfect smile in place.

"Hello Hotguy. Nice to see you." Cub doesn't take his eyes of his work as he greets him. He was informed of Hotguy slipping in via the roof terrace door by his Vex cranial implants.

"How may I serve you, citizen?" Hotguy asks from his drape between office chair and Cub. Ah. Scar's in that kind of mood, then. Cub shifts focus, from his screen to the notifications on his implants, about news reports of a fight. The first report is from hours ago. Scar's been in the fray for hours, making split second decisions that could have potentially disastrous consequences. Especially with this new villain who's way too into the destruction aspect of villainy. Looks like Cub will be suiting up soon, to pay this upstart a visit to make it clear that even the city's villains don't tolerate this level of damage. Casualties are way too high for a villain attack, and the bastard got away.

Maybe Vex can bring Shadow along.

"I know just the thing, Hotguy." Cub takes one of Hotguy's hands in his, clicking off the gauntlet. The under-layer gets removed as well, the material thick to protect from Hotguy's bowstring snags, too thick to properly convey the signal Cub wants to give. Other side, as well. Both sides are padded the same, after all, what with Scar being ambidextrous about his archery.

"You can be a Good Doll for me, and Drop." Cub gives each held wrist three squeezes as he says the magic combination of words. Not actual magic, but close enough. Anchored deep in Scar's brain. Cub knows the right triggers clicked when he feels Doll melt onto his shoulders.

"Yes Owner." Doll responds, just like they'd conditioned him to. To confirm the triggers worked.

Pulling the now pliant Doll off his shoulders, Cub takes the time to inspect his boyfriend. No overt injuries Cub can see, and just a little scrape on his cheek, right below the mask.

"Any new injuries, Doll?" Cub asks, already digging out the first aid kit. The one he keeps in his office is expansive, between himself and the other two villains that work for him, as well as Cuteguy, as he now knows. With Hotguy dropping by too, the only full time mask out of them, he feels the size is warranted. Maybe a little small, even.

"Doll may have some bruised ribs, Owner. As well as bruising in the hip area." Doll reports. Not exactly unexpected injuries, in its line of work.

"Good." Materials laid out, Cub steps up to Doll. Cupping its jaw, and pulling it down to his level, to clunk his forehead against the plastic of its mask. "I worry about you, you know." For a moment, they both just exist, enjoying the moment between them. The way the mask somehow makes this more vulnerable, instead of less.

"Owner is too kind to Doll." Doll's voice is soft, choked up.

"How badly do you need maintenance?" Pulling himself back together, Cub gets back on track. Caring for Doll. Doll obviously needs the comfort.

"It can wait a bit. But not too long. Before dinner." Doll replies.

"Good Doll." Cub praises, clicking off its mask, gently setting that aside. He returns, to clean and bandage the scrape carefully, applying plenty of anti-scarring ointment. Grian will be pleased.

Doll lets Cub strip it of its armor and under-layer without complaint or resistance. No limb shakes yet, but Cub does see a few twitches in Doll's legs that promise trouble.

Once Doll is naked, Cub does a quick inspection of its ribs, deeming them not in need of further treatment. Maybe he can put Doll in the scanner later. Doll does enjoy tube time.

For now, Doll needs comfort. So Cub unlocks his office sex toy cabinet.

Toys gathered, he herds Doll into his bathroom, for a quick shower. Having his own company, as well as owning the building and getting a say in what was built where, is handy. Of course Cub splurged and got himself a full bathroom, complete with a shower, attached to his office. And a private rooftop terrace.

Once Doll is clean, Cub locks a cage on its still soft dick, and slips a plug into its ass that buzzes away gently. He keeps his office warm enough that Doll staying naked shouldn't be a problem. His implants have him running cold enough that he likes it cozy.

---

"Down." Owner commands, pointing at doll's kneeling pad under his desk. "You will warm me while I finish up my work, and then I'm taking you home. We need to do your vitamin shots today, anyway."

Doll obeys, sinking down onto the pillow. Owner doesn't give it its treat right away, instead bringing soft leather cuffs to keep doll's hands behind it, and a blindfold to cover doll's eyes. Just like in old times, before doll knew Owner's civilian face. The familiarity, as well as the taking of its sight, soothes doll. Better to focus full on Owner like this.

Owner is even so kind as to gift it his voice, familiar headphones settling over its ears before doll feels the familiar tap at its jaw, familiar thighs slotting in place next to it.

Holding Owner is familiar too. Safe. Doll can feel something in it loosen, melt away, as the headphones click on, playing back a looped recording of both its Owners. Praising it, telling it what a good doll it is. Reaffirming its triggers, planted deep by now. Together with the soft buzzing filling it, and the way its hands are bound, the sound pulls doll down deep.

...

Nebulous amounts of floating later, doll is called to the present again. Owner is removing the blindfold, having pulled doll out from under the table at some point. Doll must have missed Owner's powers wrapping around it, making it float.

"Hello there, my sweet doll." Pulling the headphones off doll too, Owner ruffles its hair in greeting. "You were so good, I think you deserve a treat."

Treat? Doll blinks big eyes up at Owner. It does recall asking for a certain treat, a while ago. Something another part of it had heard, that stuck with doll. Something doll wants, as much as doll can want anything.

"Yes." Owner smiles, nodding at it. "You can."

No way does doll need to be told twice! Permission given, it dives down, tongue meeting Owner's shoe. Smooth, sturdy leather tastes of the real beeswax Owner uses in his shoe polish. Nothing bad for dolls in it, doll trusts Owner to have checked. So it can reverently run its tongue over every part, every seam of the fine leather. Feel the firm, slightly rough texture under its tongue as it carefully polishes every bit. Licks the leather to a spit shine.

Doll lavishes the same, loving attention on Owner's other shoe. Serving Owner in this way, fulfilling its purpose. Doing what it was meant to. Where it was meant to. On its knees, in front of Owner. Worshiping.

One last kiss to the toe of both shoes, then doll follows the soft nudge from Owner, to finish up.

"Good doll." The praise further fuzzes out its brain, even as its legs start to protest. One is starting to really hurt. But that's not doll's problem. Owner will take care of it, or he won't.

Doll does not have to make any hard decisions. Does not have to save anyone, not even itself.

"Leg hurts." Doll does, however, have a standing order to report any bad hurts, as they crop up.

"Does it need attention now, or can it wait an hour?" Owner asks, petting doll's jaw.

Frowning, doll flexes and clenches the muscles, shifting to straighten the leg. "Can wait an hour." It deems. Not unbearable yet.

"Good." Owner stands, unhooking doll's cuffs from each other but leaving them on. "Let's get you dressed, and then head home."

"Home." Doll echoes, as Owner hands it soft clothes.

---

At home, Owner doesn't take doll to his civilian apartment up at the top of the building. No, the elevator dings earlier, spitting them out on the floor of Owner's villain lair.

By now, even the Hero part of doll has come to accept Owner as a partner.

Doll is led through the familiar halls, to the medical lab Owner keeps here. Stripped, and lain out on the adjustable treatment chair Owner added just for them to play with, and to treat doll on.

"Be a good doll and get comfortable here." Owner kisses its forehead, leaving to go grab things from the cabinets while doll settles in. Doll likes this chair. Owner and it have had some wonderful fun in this seat, Owner sticking doll full of needles and other fun things. Maybe that's Owner's plan?

By the looks of the supplies Owner brings, it is. A meat bowl, as well as the stabby box, and lots of small glass vials.

"Alright then, doll." Owner settles on his rolly stool next to doll, snapping on gloves. "Since I have you here, I'm going to give you your vitamin shots, and we're going to check up on the progress we've made on getting you to lactate. I know you want to try to at the very least make ice cream from your own milk."

Doll does! Or well, it does when it's not-doll. Not-doll it wants to make ice cream out of its own milk, and Owner is being so kind and injecting it with all the drugs to make that happen.

"I also. Have this for you." Owner holds up a collar. Small beads added to the lace in the center tell doll that that is the newest pacifying collar Owner has made for their kidnapping weeks, the one that makes doll all sweet-soft and floaty.

Big, hopeful eyes blink up at Owner, who chuckles. "Yes, of course you get it." And just like that, Owner puts the collar on doll, closing it with a soft click.

While doll floats on the fuzzy-dreamy feeling, Owner has started kneading into its tits. They have been feeling tight and sore lately, since the start of the treatment. Doll's cock throbs in its cage.

"Have you been a good doll, doing your nipple and chest massage every day like I showed you?" Owner asks. A question Owner knows the answer to, because he reminds doll every evening doll isn't at his place, and demands videos.

"Yes Owner." Doll is still a good doll, answering the question.

Just as Owner draws in a sharp breath. "Doll. You're lactating. We did it."

"Doll is?" Doll perks up, looking down at its chest. Where a few dribbles of grayish-white fluid glitter on its nipple, and Owner's glove.

"Yes doll." Owner beams at it. "You are. Now, I have a milking machine I want you on for at least fifteen minutes every evening, to encourage more milk production."

More of Owner's machines doing things to its body? Yes please! Doll will be good, will use the machine every day! Doll nods, excitedly.

"Great. Now, as a reward, I'm going to uncage you, and then put you on the machine while I give you your shots. If you haven't come once I'm done with that, we can take care of each other." Owner explains. Many treats for doll! Doll did so good!

Doll's cock freed from it's cage, Owner brings over a box, with hoses and a bottle attached to it. Glass cylinders go over doll's nipples, rhythmically sucking on them once Owner clicks a button. Not exactly a gentle suction, edging into pain. Doll loves it, its cock twitching in time with the pulls.

"Now then, your shots." Owner brandishes the spray. "I do think they can go in your tits too, as a little treat."

Owner's needles in his tits? Doll groans at the thought. It loves being under Owner's needles. Or Owner's knife, though the only time that has happened so far was when Owner had to cut out an infected splinter in its arm. Still, being in the med lab, strapped down to Owner's chair with those bright lights on it, doll came from that. Absolutely mind blowing.

Doll loves any kind of treatment Owner will give it.

The first sharp stab of a needle going into its skin draws doll out of its musings, and a long moan out of it. Bright burning, as Owner pushes in the mystery drugs.

A second stab, along the bottom of its tits. This drug burns more that the other one. What is Owner putting in it? Sure, Owner says it's vitamins, but it could be anything. Doll daydreams about Owner pumping it full of brainwashing drugs, and keeping it as a doll forever.

Four more stabs, just like doll is used to by now. No extra fun stabbies today. That's okay. Doll will take what Owner gives.

"I am impressed you haven't come yet, doll." Owner comments, setting aside his stabbies. The gloves, Owner leaves on, but disinfects. Owner knows how much doll loves Owner looking all sciency and medical.

"Owner said doll could take care of Owner if doll doesn't come." Doll explains.

"Ah. Yeah, that would do it."Owner smiles at. "I did say that. How about we take it nice and easy this time, doll. You have had a hard day." The buzzing in doll kicks up a few notches, Owner using his implants to interface with the toy and control it, just for doll.

And isn't that an understatement. Later, not-doll will have to brief Owner on what happened. Doll knows Owner will want to have a firsthand account. But that's for later. Now is for getting Owner's dick out, and stoking it. Hard already, from how much he likes having doll under his needle and knife and on his table, too. Now is for enjoying the loose glide of Owner's gloved hand around its dick, just simmering its arousal while it works Owner towards orgasm.

They come together, Owner timing it beautifully. Doll loves him so much for that.

"Love. Love Owner." It mutters, again and again, delirious with overstimulation as Owner makes it wait out the full fifteen minutes on the milking machine, even if he starts to spread the burning cream on dolls legs and massaging its aches away before it's over. One of the few things that can almost always reliably soothe the aches and pains doll deals with every day.

Milking cycle over, Owner shows doll the small bit of milk collected from it, then bundles it to bed where more massages await. Not long after, its other Owner, Ownermate, joins them with a takeout bag.

"Thanks, Grian. I've gotten doll here taken care of, but it could use a good cuddling from both of us. Help me feed it?" Owner asks.

"Like you even need to ask!" Fluffing his wings and draping them over the two of them, Ownermate settles in for a nice evening in bed with them.

[varanere00]

fly on my wings (my zephyr)

ao3 link

solo written for e/l verse during 2026 MCYT Battleship

Scar sprints up to the plane, just barely on time. He'd gotten caught up in a battle right before they were slated to leave, and had barely made it to the airport on time. His Hotguy uniform is hastily hidden under a jacket and some loose sweats. That's normal airplane clothing, right? Good thing he left his luggage at Cub's. What little of it wasn't already at Cub's anyway.

There! Cub's plane! Hard to miss with the giant ConCorp logo on it. Not that there aren’t other ConCorp planes, but Cub's is the only private one. And the closest one to Scar.

"I'm here!" He yells, sprinting up the stairs two steps at a time.

"Finally!" Grian grabs him by the collar, manhandling him into a seat. "Cub's ready to go. He's flying this thing." His bird fusses, buckling Scar into the seat. The narrowed eyes and the extra harsh yank on the buckle tell Scar that Grian has not missed the fact that Scar's still in uniform, but he's letting it go for the sake of their schedule. Sinking back, Scar lets Grian strap him in. Odd, the amount of straps being used on him, but Scar isn't complaining. Cub's plane is better and fancier than the ones on TV, of course it has more straps.

Finished with Scar, Grian sinks into his own, wing friendly seat. Does Cub know that Grian can shape-shift, and could therefore very well sit in a normal seat? Yes he does. Did Cub go to the trouble of having wing friendly seats in his personal plane anyway? Of course he did. He's Cub.

"How did you know I was here?" Scar asks, as the plane starts moving. Grian was at the door suspiciously fast, and did not look surprised to see Scar.

"Cub fed you a tracker pill two days ago. With your supplements." Grian explains, holding up his phone. So that's what the new pill was. Cubby should feed him trackers more often.

"Of course you'd enjoy that. Disaster." Grian shakes his head fondly at Scar's deep, full-chested moan. "What took you so long?"

"Harpy was out being a pest again, and Miss Hiss is not exactly the best person to deter him, and I was in the area." Scar shrugs, ignoring the stab of pain in his side. So what if Harpy got his claws into Scar a few times? He's fine.

"Yeah, but your shift ended four hours ago. Scar." Grian throws him a disapproving look.

"Well, you see, I got caught up." Scar explains, regaling Grian with the tales of his epic fight as Cub gets them in the air.

...

"Hey Scar. Cutting it close there." Cub joins them in the back. "Cutting it a tad close there." He must have put on his wings at some point after getting on the plane, because Scar knows Cub didn't walk through the airport wearing his Vex wings. 

"Of course! Gotta keep it exciting!" Scar beams up at Cubby.

"Of course. You guys can unbuckle, by the way. We're at cruising altitude. I've set her to autopilot."

"Autopilot?" Scar peers to the front of the plane. "Is no one else on here?"

"Nope! Just us." Cub confirms, dipping down to kiss Scar hello. Kisses given, he goes to unstrap Scar.

"So we can fuck? And I don't have to change in the bathroom?" Scar blinks prettily up at Cub.

"You are going to the lab, first of all." Cub declares, gathering Scar up in his arms. Scar says a silent thank you to the fact that Cub's Vex implants can cheat gravity and make him lighter, so being carried isn't putting more pressure on his aching side.

"Speaking of the lab. Grian. I finished the prototype of the throat sticker mic for you. It's also in the lab. If you want to come give it a try." Cub carries Scar to the back, and down a small flight of stairs. Through a door, and there's the lab. A very Cub lab, with rolly chairs and labeled boxes. And a treatment chair in the middle. With lots and lots of straps. Scar gives a happy wiggle as Cub sets him down. He loves being treated by Cub. Or experimented on. Or just cut open and toyed with for Cub's amusement.

"This?" Grian holds up what looks like a piece of paper as Cub begins to peel Scar out of his armor.

"Yeah. They'll connect to your phone once applied and should have a battery life of about four hours. If you're in the plane's Wi-Fi you can also broadcast over the internal speakers with them." Cub explains to Grian.

"New mics?" Scar prompts them.

"Yeah. For Ariana performances. So I don't have to wear that pesky ear piece and the bulky ass tech." Grian inspects the paper looking thing.

"Ah." Scar hums in agreement, followed by a hiss as Cub tugs on the scratch while undressing him.

"Scar." Cub has that look on his face.

"He came straight from a fight." Grian tattles. "Probably injured, if I had to guess. Or else he would have changed."

"I'm fi-"

"Scar. These will need stitches. Can you sit still for me or do you want to drop?" Cub carefully eases another piece of Scar's armor off, making good use of the powers he built into himself via tech implants. Phasing through Scar or the chair where necessary. Scar's beloved Vex. Hotguy's arch-nemesis. Scar's oathsworn partner.

"Drop me." Scar knows he won't be able to hold still. Besides, being doll is nice.

"Hands." Cub holds his own out. Scar hands his wrists over without hesitation, bare of armor.

"There we go. Now be a good doll for me, and drop." Saying the magic words that the two of them had brainwashed deep into his mind, Cub gives his wrists three little squeezes. More of the silly safeties they insisted he have. Their condition for actually brainwashing him. If it makes them happy.

Just like that, the words, spoken by a trusted-safe voice and the squeezes drop him, until only the calm and quiet of doll remains.

"Yes Owner." Doll replies, just like it's been programmed.

"Good doll." Owner praises it. Like he always does after getting doll off the shelf. "Now, doll, I want you to give me a rundown of what injuries you have right now, and sit still while I treat them."

"Yes Owner. Doll has scratches on its right side, leg, and shoulder. Possibly talon punctures too. Doll did not have time to check. Possibly more." Doll lists the injuries it knows it sustained. Earlier. As the Hero.

"Good doll." Owner praises, continuing to carefully remove the Hero's armor from doll's body. Baring it for Owner's viewing pleasure. And Ownermate's.

Speaking of Ownermate. He's behind Owner, making silly faces with a wide open mouth and humming. "Can I put makeup on these?" Ownermate asks.

"I think so? I'd have to look at the ingredients, but off hand I can't tell you why you shouldn't. They're fully waterproof too, and should not come off when you sweat." Owner does not bother trying to peel doll out of its under-layers the normal way, phasing them off instead. "Your Ariana makeup does go down to your neck, right? And the placement won't get in the way of your breast plate?"

"Yeah. That's why I ask. And I can just not sweat under them. Probably more comfortable that way." Ownermate comes over to peer at doll too. "He's looked better, but I've seen him in worse states."

"Yeah. I'll ask Doc about Lizzie or Skizz's schedules, see if either can be talked into a day trip out to take care of it. Fully paid, of course. It is a work trip after all. For now, I can stitch it up and apply ointments." Owner says.

"Oh no, a paid day to do five minutes of work and then hang out at the beach with us. You're gonna have a real hard time convincing either of them" Ownermate teases, pressing a kiss to Owner's cheek. "You want some help with the stitching?"

"Sure. Sink's over there, everything should be the same layout as at home. You wanna work on the shoulder?" Owner gestures at the sink.

"You should wash up too." Ownermate pulls Owner over to the sink so they can both wash up in preparation of treating doll. How wonderful. They so rarely team up on it in a med lab like this. Doll sighs dreamily.

Gloves are snapped on, and supplies gathered. Soon, both of doll's Owners sit beside it, ready to work it over.

"Disinfectant first." Owner offers Ownermate a number of prefilled syringes, and a metal bowl. "Do you want to rinse or should I?"

"Give me the bowl." Ownermate takes it from Owner, as well as holding the box of syringes.

"Right, I forgot to ask. Doll, how are you with pain?" Owner asks. "And when will you need maintenance?"

"Pain will be no problem for the treatment, but doll would do better if doll got something against it after. Maintenance will be necessary soon." For now, doll enjoys the hurt, especially with them poking around in it, but it can feel the exhaustion looming on the horizon. Better to let Owners take the edge off the pain, and sleep.

"Good doll." As a reward, Owner sticks a syringe into one of doll's ouches, and presses the plunger. Burning disinfectant shoots into the open, oozing cut, cleaning it. Doll relaxes into the pain, riding the high it gives as Owners work in tandem to clean all the cuts.

Doll is hard. Of course doll is hard. Owners are treating it, working it over. Why wouldn't doll be hard from that?

"You ready, doll? Here comes the fun part." Owner grins a wicked grin at doll, brandishing the ointment. Slathering his fingers, Owner slips them neatly into the nearest gash in doll's body. And proceeds to finger the gash, using the blood and ointment as lube.

"You really are such a marvelous doll for us." Ownermate agrees, gathering his own scoop and having his way with a hole in Doll's thigh. Really gives it to that new hole. Doll wishes it could keep the wounds forever. Owners' fingers feel so good in them.

But sadly, all good things must come to and end. As much as Owners and doll all like sticking fingers in new holes in doll, they must at some point close the wounds. Just so doll doesn't die. The stitches pinch and tug at doll, hurting different from the fingering and the cleaning.

By now, doll is hazy, the pain verging on too much. A soft whimper escapes its lips.

"Too much?" Owner asks. Doll can only nod.

"Do you want to be out fully, or just something for the pain?" Owner presents doll with its options. "Either way, I'd like to do your maintenance next."

"Out. Please knock doll out." Doll begs. It trusts Owner will do that. Will let it wake up safe and sound. Maybe even in their arms, if doll is lucky.

"Alright. One moment, sweet doll." Owner kisses doll's forehead, then leaves. Ownermate is still next to doll, cleaning up.

"Small pinch." Owner warns, then doll feels a needle jab it. "Relax doll. In about a minute, you'll be asleep." Is the last thing doll hears.

---

Scar's sleeping safely on the chair Cub put him in. After they got his injuries treated, Cub has taken over massage duties. Loosening Scar's leg and back muscles as much as he can without further aggravating the injuries.

"He's gonna need his cane. Where is it?" Grian asks.

"I put it in the medical bag. In the luggage area. The blue one. You gonna fetch it? He'll only be out for an hour." Cub doesn't look up from where he's massaging Scar's unhurt leg.

"Yeah. Better to have it here." Grian strips off his gloves, tossing them. Sliding past Cub, he makes his way to the luggage area. There, next to the medical bag, sits Scar's armor bag.

Grian slings it over his shoulder and brings it back along with the cane.

"Here." He leans the cane against the chair, Cub acknowledging with a nod. "I'll clean this up."

Piece by piece, Grian sets about packing up Scar's armor. Scar's protection. His second skin. As important and sacred to Scar as his feathers are to Grian. Something sensual, about being allowed this. Even after all these years, it still takes Grian's breath away. To be allowed the intimacy of handling Scar's armor not in its pristine, shiny state, but in this used one, dirty and damaged. Smeared in blood and the signs and traces of Scar's survival.

Grian wants to kill anyone else who's ever had this privilege. Except maybe Cub.

Grian also wants to fuck Scar silly about it. Preferably while Scar is still in said armor, in his full, dazzlingly Hotguy glory. He'd have to be blind not to find Scar searingly hot in that armor. That uniform that he wears to protect the city. After all, isn't that what had seduced Grian into the mask life as well? Scar, in his armor? There may have be a few masked and armored blowjobs, yeah. Still, Grian can't help but feel a certain stirring every time he sees the armor on Scar.

"Cub. When you're done, can we fuck?" Grian calls over to where Cub is finishing up the massage, and covering Scar in a blanket.

"Sure thing." Cub grins back."He got you worked up too?"

"Always." Grian launches himself at Cub the moment he's free to be jumped. "Where?"

"The main cabin? Or here on the floor." Cub gives him the choice.

"Main cabin. But we take him with us." Grian nods in Scar's direction.

"Sure. Meet you there?" Cub presses a kiss to Grian's nose.

"Hurry." In return, Grian kisses Cub, hard and fast, before collecting the freshly packed armor bag and Scar's cane. Behind him, Cub carries Scar, wrapped in his blanket like a burrito. Dipping into the luggage storage, Grian deposits the armor bag, returning to the main cabin to find that Cub has strapped Scar back into his now lain out flat seat. With less straps than the all of them Grian had used. Because of course Cub would modify his private plane to suit not just their needs, but their tastes. The cane goes in easy grabbing reach.

"Come here." Cub opens his arms for Grian, another seat flattening for them.

"I want to be full." Grian demands, hopping into Cub's lap. "And I want you to jerk off inside of me."

"Sure thing. Stretching or no?" Cub asks. Often, Grian is in the mood for proper foreplay and pampering. Not always, though. Like now.

"No. I need you in me yesterday." Grian throws his shirt off, fiddling with his pants and underwear. Cub lets him work, not offering to phase anything. Grian can handle Cub phasing thing in his general vicinity, and through Scar by now, but he still doesn't want that for himself. He's... working on it.

Shuffling around, Grian gets on his knees in front of Cub, facing away. Bending forward over the armrest of the seat.

"Get in me already!" He demands. Packing up Scar's uniform was unfairly hot, and he needs to be fucked now.

"Impatient birdy." Cub grabs the base of one of Grian's wing arms with one hand, the other pressing against whatever hole Cub can find down there. Grian isn't quite sure when his genital configuration went rogue. But there's a hole, it's wet, and Cub's hand is gliding into it with such a perfect stretch, Grian can feel his eyes roll back.

"See? There you go." Cub pets the feathers at the base of one of Grian's wings, causing them to flare out wide in presenting. Heat shoots through him, as Cub touches him in ways only mates do. Touches his wings.

Another stretch, smaller this time, then Cub's hand starts to move in Grian. A small twist has whatever sort of internal pleasure centers Grian currently has realigning to where they need to be for Cub to hit them, and then it's off to the races.

With a hand in his feathers, and custom placed pleasure spots, Grian comes fast, and hard, gasping his way into perfect-too-much overstimulation as Cub keeps going, not quite there yet.

Patching Scar up and playing with Scar's injuries must have really worked Cub up, because he doesn't last nearly as long as he usually does, spilling inside Grian surprisingly quickly.

"Whew." Grian pants, as Cub pulls out. "I needed that."

"Not gonna lie, me too." Cub agrees, fishing a pack of wet wipes out of the seats storage.

"Thanks." Grian accepts the wipes, cleaning himself up.

"I think I might go wash my hands. Your slick is extra resilient today." Cub drops a kiss on Grian's forehead, leaning down to kiss Grian's lips as well when he pouts at him.

"I really need to add a bedroom in here." Cub chuckles, when Grian lets him up again.

"You should." Grian agrees. Then they could all cuddle together comfortably. For now, Grian makes do with squishing himself in next to Scar on the seat. Snug, but cozy. Perfect.

...

"You two look cozy." Cub comments, settling on the arm of the seat a few minutes later. "How's the mic so far?" Bastard is dressed again, loose fuzzy lounge pants and a jacket. And also, interestingly enough, still in his Vex wings. The sight of those, raised in comfortable interest, have Grian perking up, fluffing his own wings.

"Mi- mic's good so far, yeah." Grian's voice cracks on him as his fingers dart up to touch the square of clear plastic-like film on his throat. Knowing Cub, that's not traditional plastic, but some arcane science thing Grian has no hope of ever understanding.

"Great. You wanna test the sound quality?" Cub offers Grian a familiar pair of headphones. Scar's headphones. Noisecancelling, comfortable, and resilient. "So you don't wake him up." Cub explains.

"Thanks." For some reason, headphones are less scary when Grian's the one putting them on Scar.

"Well then! Shall we?" Grian sits up, unwilling to let Scar go uncuddled. Like he can read Grian's mind, Cub slots himself into the free space now that Grian is up, pressed against Scar. An involuntary coo escapes Grian when he realizes Cub is warm. Nest-warm flock good. The seats must have chargers built in.

Smiling, Cub coos nest-warm flock back at Grian, before humming the first few bars of a very familiar tune.

When Grian joins in, his voice is beautifully amplified, filling up the cabin in a soft, layered way he rarely ever accomplishes on stage. A stage. Hm.

Letting those thoughts brew in the background, Grian focuses on singing with his mate for now. Cub knowing the songs Grian wrote to perform as Ariana still sends something warm and wiggly through Grian. As they sing, his wings spread. He yearns to do something with them. To do a show with them, just for Cub. And maybe later Scar. Now, he meets Cub's wings when they too spread, pressing his own to them. Feathers over crystal.

The final notes ring out, and Grian launches himself into Cub's arms. He's caught, of course, and held tight. Soft, assuring murmurs in his hair, kisses to his forehead.

"Cub. What are the odds you have a stage in here?" Grian asks.

"Well. It's not a stage-stage, but it should be something. Here." Cub turns them over to the area of the cabin that's free floorspace. Or at least was. In the middle of the small round of wood flooring, maybe two meters across, there's now a pole. A very familiar kind of pole.

"You know, Scar is the one that does pole dance. Not me." Grian hides his face in Cub's neck. Out of the two of them, Scar may be the pole dancer, but that does not mean Grian doesn't know how to put on a show with one.

"I can put it away again." Cub offers, sincere as always.

"No, it's fine. But knowing you, you probably have a closet on this thing. You got any dresses in there?" Grian pokes.

"No dresses, unfortunately. I have a bathrobe? If you want to try and make that work?" Cub suggests.

"Sure, I'll do an improvized drag show in a bathrobe. Gimme." Grian tries to make grabby hands at Cub, which is thwarted by him being on Cub's lap and too close for effective grabby hands. Criminal. Grian simply must kiss Cub about this.

"It's in the bathroom. On the hook on the back of the door." Cub tells him, once Grian lets up from the kiss.

"Always me that has to fetch things." Grian gripes, smiling at Cub.

"Evil villain, remember?" Cub winks at Grian. Cub is in fact a villain, the villain Vex, alleged fae and nemesis of Scar's hero persona Hotguy. Very few know they are actually a couple by now.

"Fine. I'll fetch the robe myself. But only because I have to get up anyway." One last kiss for the road, or rather the stage later, Grian heaves himself up, wings flailing. He is so gonna make Cub preen them after this.

The bathrobe is easy to find, and like everything else Cub owns, of excellent quality. Grumbling about stupid richer than sin CEO mates, Grian shrugs the bathrobe on, pleased to find it has wing slits. Despite Cub never using them, even when he's wearing his wings.

Robe thusly prepared and straightened, Grian emerges from the bathroom with his best showy flair. Launching into another of his songs, Grian does a mix of some of the choreography he's been planning, mixing it with improvized wing moves and a few basic pole moves. He'll ask Cub later about a removable pole for his stage at home.

It's not really that much of a drag show. More a Grian show. He doesn't have his makeup on, or his padding or his breast plate or a dress. Sure, he could shape shift into a flawless female form, but that's not the point of it. The point of drag is to have fun, and do it fairly. The only shifting Grian allows himself for Ariana is to better fit in shoes. Everything else he keeps as baseline human as he can, with his body demanding to have three pairs of limbs at all times. He's found workarounds.

That he doesn't need right now. Because this isn't actually a show, just him doing a silly little thing to test his mic. Which is really good, he must admit. He can barely even feel it on his throat.

Finishing his song with a last swish of wing and whirl of bathrobe, Grian holds his pose just long enough for Cub to clap before he flings himself into Cub's lap again. Eagerly shoving his wings into Cub's hands.

"Mic is good." he reports, knowing Cub will want to hear his opinion. "Anything I want to talk about does not need to be now. Now is for preening."

"Okay, prettiest Ari." Grian feels Cub press a kiss to his nape, calling him by a shortend version of his stage name. "Now is for preening."

[whisperwritingstuff]

welcome to the first chapter of Vitamin Monday [working title], enemies/lovers convex heroverse shenanigans co-authored by @varanere00 and myself

this one will be a shorter fic, just a few chapters, focusing on hotguy and vex figuring out the new shape of their mondays. enjoy!

------

Quiet steps, bow held at the ready, Hotguy stalks down a hallway entirely too nice for the sinister deeds it leads to.

Aware, alert, head on a swivel. Sweeping every corner, pausing for each faint sound.

Nothing will get between him and his mission. His goal. His target.

Vex will learn not to taunt him so brazenly.

With no alarm raised, no suspicious activity- Even though his sense clamors to take the stairs, something draws Hotguy to the elevator.

Vex, with his overabundance of logic, might not expect someone else to make a sub-optimal decision- Hotguy could get the drop on him, this way. No way to know but to try.

Doors slide open smoothly, admitting Hotguy. A quick inspection shows nothing suspicious, so he steps inside, pressing the button for Vex's floor.

Down he goes, the smooth rumble of mechanisms and soft hiss of the air vents lulling him into a dreamy-foggy space occasionally broken by a pleasant chime.

Soft... hiss?

When had it gotten so hard to hold his eyelids up? When had his grip on his bow loosened? Shit.

On reflex Hotguy sniffs the air, only to cough a faintly saccharine scent right back out, covering his mouth. Fuck, of course Vex has defenses in here-

Heavy muscles move slow to stow his bow- The elevator's stop button does nothing, the open door button even less. Hotguy can't afford to wait, not when he's starting to catch smoothly spoken words under the droning muzak playing-

Up there- A hatch!

Forcing his body to cooperate through the sticky-sweet drowsiness clogging up his brain, Hotguy clambers up on the handrail, shoving the ceiling hatch to clang open.

Blissfully fresh air fills Hotguy's lungs as he pops his head out the top.

Clambering quickly atop the elevator roof, Hotguy finds that once he's got enough deep breaths to stop the world from spinning around him, that's all that was moving! The elevator stop must have kicked in belatedly while he was pulling himself up. At least that makes it safer for him to...

His luck is with him, the hallway doors are practically on level with him. All he has to do is pry them open, and he can- Get on with the show.

No turning back now, not after he's already deep in Vex's territory. He'll just have to be fast, is all. Outrun whatever evil drugs- Focus. He's got this.

"Well well well, look who crawled right on in to my lair. Right on in."

Looking up from where he's currently trying to convince his heavier-than-usual limbs that yes, they can clamber up onto the floor that's just a smidgen too high to be easily climbable, Hotguy sees- Vex.

Waiting for him, perched loosely on the stair's hand rail. Dressed in a combination of his usual armor and leisure clothes. Boots and tassets frame grey sweatpants, crinkles and bumps in the underlayer of his less armored than usual upper half hint at a tshirt beneath. Mask and wings flawlessly in place, skin its usual blue. Barely a hint of Vex being something outside of a Villain.

"Not even gonna say hello?" Vex's words and playful tongue clicks draw Hotguy's attention to the fact he'd frozen mid motion, simply gaping at Vex.

"Vex." Hotguy hisses the name with as much force as he can muster, even if that winds him beyond any further words until he finally finishes getting his feet under him. "Your evil plan- Didn't work." Hotguy declares, planting his feet firmly against the sway of the hall.

Eyes locked on Vex, a steady fixed point- A Villain he can't allow out of his sight. His Villain.

"Foiled it again, did you now?" A smirk tugs playfully at the edge of Vex's lips. Smooth motions, as he hops down from the banister. "Gonna fight me now, Hotguy? Stop me from making good on my threats?"

"Of course, why else would I be here?" Hotguy squares up, leaving his bow holstered. Quarters too close. Too much burning need to drive his fist into Vex's smug face right now. "Teach you some respect." Watching. Waiting for Vex to make a move, leave an opening.

"Is that what the kids call it these days? 'Teaching respect'?" Vex muses, wandering closer without a care in the world. Just a little, just a little more, then he'll be in Hotguy's range.

"That's what you'll be calli-" Hotguy lunges, certain that he's close enough Vex can't-

But the buzz hits the back of his teeth just in time to tell Hotguy that he's going to fly right through Vex, a glacial lack-of-hard-stop to his lunge. That's fine- That's fine, that's good, the ice makes Hotguy's thoughts clearer. His steps lighter, he just has to-

Get yanked by the shoulder and slammed into the wall, Vex dissolving into a fresh wave of frigid nothingness before Hotguy can finish bouncing himself back off the surface to try to slam into Vex. Fuck, that hurt.

Willing the pain to contribute to the clearing of his thoughts, not further daze him, Hotguy picks himself up, flinging himself in Vex's direction without pause.

He doesn't hit Vex, despite giving his best shot. This time, Vex catches Hotguy by the wrist, spinning him into Vex's arms, holding him tight.

"Teaching me, huh? I sure am learning." Vex whispers right into Hotguy's mind, cold lips brushing Hotguy's ear.

Music washes over Hotguy's mind in time to Vex's motions. Oh, he'd known the elevator sound was familiar- Hotguy had learned the formal steps to this one for a Gala. Familiar, easy falling. One-two-three, one-two-three-

Wait, no! He's not supposed to be waltzing with Vex! Hotguy claws at Vex's shoulder, fingers meeting nothing but firm pauldron. "Learn this-" He snarls, despite his stomping feet meeting much the same fate on the unyielding toes of Vex's boots.

Another stomp passes right through, Vex twirling Hotguy out under his arm.

"You are a most wonderful dance partner, my nemesis." Vex croons, twirling a stumbling Hotguy back in so Hotguy's back and quiver are pressed to Vex's chest. Hotguy's arms cross tight across his own chest, pinned by Vex's hands. So many spins in such short order leave Hotguy's head spinning, reeling in the grasp of Vex's drugs.

Hotguy pants heated breaths. "My nemesis." He echoes, at least that much feeling right on his tongue, in his mind. His struggles barely even shake Vex, serving to do no more than thump their bodies together over and over. "Shit, what was in that-" He mumbles to himself, racking his brain for anything that could give him the heated flush overtaking his skin like this.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Vex purrs, letting him struggle. Driving home just how trapped Hotguy is, body not responding except to heat up with need, limbs sluggish. All except one part of him. That is still bright and reactive, twitching in Hotguy's armor.

Hotguy is stuck. Well and truly trapped in Vex's arms, with no telling what the villain will do with him.

"I would. Won't you be a good boy and gloat like I know you're dying to?" Hotguy growls, sagging to save his energy. Let Vex tire himself out holding Hotguy up, all the more chance for Vex to get complacent.

If Hotguy leans back into Vex, that's only because the chill of Vex soothes this unnatural heat so well. Taking advantage of the Villain's own body to work against him!

"Oh but I'm not the only good boy here, now am I? You walked into my trap so easily, such a good Hero." Vex leans in, gloating sweet whispers right into Hotguy's ear. "Let me dose you with my special blend of sleeping gas. Didn't take the whole dose, but you should be feeling very sleepy by now. Heavy limbs, droopy eyes, deep breaths... There you go."

Focus. Fight. Hotguy forces himself back upright, only for his spine to inexorably wilt back down, his head to loll to the side. Fighting with every ounce of his will, but that's not enough to even thrash anymore. "M'not." He protests, between slow breaths. "I won't let you-"

"You don't have a choice anymore, my nemesis. I've already won. Can't you feel it? Your body succumbing to me?" When had Vex's hands moved from holding him down to holding him? Caressing him? Sliding between his armor? Hotguy's head spins, coherent thoughts refusing to form.

Vex's hand roaming over the soon-to-be bruise of being slammed into the wall pulls a hiss from Hotguy that sounds nothing like a breathy moan. Not at all, not even a little. Just a hiss of breath, that's all.

"Your power, I feel..." Delirious words escaping Hotguy. Wrapped up tight in Vex's power, melting, betrayed by his own body. "How are you..."

"Shh. Don't fight it." Vex soothes, scooping Hotguy up into his arms as the world goes black.

---

Feeling returns to Hotguy in soft fuzziness. Unlike the heaviness before, he's now light as a feather.

A blurry Vex moves next to Hotguy. Right. Captured.

Carefully, Hotguy wiggles his whole body. Finding his hands tied above his head comes with the realization he's laying down, most of his armor gone. Vex works relentlessly on the rest, freeing Hotguy from those confines.

"Good morning, dear nemesis mine." Vex purrs, hands roaming possessively up over Hotguy's torso. "Don't you worry about a single thing, I'm nearly done preparing you. Soon, I'll scrub every last thought other than me out of your handsome head." Vex's chill hand glides up to caress Hotguy's feverish cheek.

Not leaning into that hand is harder than Hotguy would like. Surely the sound he makes is one of defiance, and not a pitiful whine. What other answer could he offer Vex here, who is taking him apart so beautifully? Hotguy knows this situation well, captured and drugged at the hands of a villain. Yet his brain, his body refuse to fear Vex. No matter how reasonable fear would be.

Hotguy has never truly feared Vex, has he?

"So good for me." Vex rubs his thumb over Hotguy's cheek. Tender, almost. "I'll make you mine. My Hotguy, deep under my spell. You can already feel it taking hold."

Those hands leave him, tearing a gaping chasm in Hotguy's chest.

He does not fear Vex, but- Vex's absence-

Soft pads settle over Hotguy's ears, abruptly cutting out the noise of the room.

"Much better. I like it in here." The sound of Vex's voice is crisper than ever, closer than ever, words blooming a flood of relief in Hotguy's mind.

Hotguy's transferred, from one flat surface to another. When had Vex stripped him fully naked?

Doing his best to flail one last fragment of resistance in Vex's arms just has Hotguy wiggling like an uppity worm, far from enough to actually hamper Vex's actions.

On this new surface, a surface that feels oddly familiar, Vex neatly wraps him in more ropes. The strands bite into his ankles, his legs. Wind around him.

When Vex is done, Hotguy can't even squirm anymore. Fully strapped down.

That should be heart-pounding, yet the organ refuses to cooperate. Even when Vex hefts the head cage into view.

Tied up all from toe to hips, with his arms secured above his head, the best Hotguy can do to struggle is shake his head. Which does nothing to stop Vex from catching Hotguy's head in the cage, securing it to the table of the scanning tube.

"I'll be right here the whole time." Vex taps Hotguy's temple. "I have to make sure every bit of you succumbs, after all, that takes a personal touch."

A step back takes Vex out of Hotguy's line of sight, but the chimingly covetous sigh couldn't be anything other than Vex's gaze lingering on Hotguy's exposed form. Which Hotguy doesn't want Vex to touch. Doesn't want to feel those cold hands caressing his bruises and aches. Doesn't want them wrapped firmly around his-

"You know the drill, just focus on the lights and the sound of my voice. This will all be over soon." Vex promises.

The table under him moves, taking Hotguy with it into the maw of the scanner.

Light dims, the machine under him starting to softly vibrate, every now and again interspersed with mighty thunks Hotguy feels in his bones without hearing.

What he can hear, though, is a low, steady voice droning over the headphones. A very familiar voice. No matter that Hotguy tries to block the relentless words out, there's nothing in here but the voice for him to focus on. His muscles take the initiative without his say-so to relax and sink.

Hotguy floats. Lights spin around him, captivating twirls and flickers.

Trapped in the seat of Vex's power, and he's never felt calmer in his life. Calm and open.

Unable to move, unwilling to move, there's no way to stifle the soft moan that escapes him.

"Good boy." Vex's voice, fresh and crisp, layers over the background droning. "Nice and relaxed for me. Enjoy the relaxation consuming you."

Under Vex's buttery words, Hotguy comes apart. Unraveling to his base components like a snowman caught in summer sun.

When had his eyes closed? Hotguy blinks them back open to Vex hovering nearby. Oh, he's out of the washing-tube. A grin takes Hotguy's lips. "Vex." What else is there for Hotguy to say? He can't reach out with anything but his voice, gentled as glass tumbled over and over waves. Calling his fixed point in the universe closer. He understands, now.

"Hotguy." Vex drifts closer, wiping some kind of goop off Hotguy's front. Methodical and thorough, only the best of care. Wet cloths followed by dry cloths, and those both followed by Vex's hands. With his head still pinned in place by the cage, Hotguy can't look at Vex's hands as Vex caresses and kneads every exposed inch of Hotguy.

All the while, the calming voice in Hotguy's head continues to whisper comfort.

"What...?" Clumsy, loose lips fail to articulate more than that. What does Vex want him to be? Now that he's so open, blank, calm. Vex's hands sculpting him just as much as Vex's words. "Please." Aching hardness drags at his attention, pulsing to the sedate beat of his heart. Vex's touch, bringing him ever-more pleasure, ever-more melting.

"No need to fret, my sweet Hero. I'll take good care of you."

Ropes fall from Hotguy's legs, the cage from his head, Hotguy once again finding himself in Vex's arms. This time, thoughts of resisting don't even occur to him, nuzzling closer into Vex instead.

"So pliant for me. Good boy. So good." Vex praises, setting Hotguy on a new surface. Smooth and padded, this time. Straps wrapped tight over his chest, pinning Hotguy in place. Soon, his whole body is strapped down tight. Fully at Vex's mercy.

Body spread open in a proper mirror of his mind.

"Good." A memory drifts up through the clouds of Hotguy's brain. "Fav-or-ite spec-i-men." Long, arduous words, a salad of syllables, leaving Hotguy exhausted but fiercely proud to have managed to get them out. In order, even! He remembers now, he's Vex's favorite specimen, in all the worlds.

"That you are, my dear Nemesis. That you are. My favorite specimen." Vex gives Hotguy's tit a parting pat, turning to a medical cart off to the side.

Under Hotguy, the padded surface moves, sitting him up. Forming a dentist-style chair he's strapped to, armrests and all.

More upright now, Hotguy can watch Vex as he snaps on a pair of gloves, seated on one of his rolling stools. On the cart, he catches a glimpse of five glass vials with handwritten labels, as well as all the necessary equipment to give proper shots. Needles, syringes, sprays, wipes, bandaids, all of it. What is Vex planning?

Hotguy's not worried about it, too relaxed to be worried, but of course he's going to wonder. Going to hope. Going to wiggle his fingers, flex his pecs. "Nemesis. Mine." Good words.

Vex chooses the wipes, answering one question by disinfecting Hotguy's tit. Below Vex's arm, Hotguy's dick twitches hard, in time with the moan that rips out of Hotguy from the crystal clear image of Vex's needles sinking into his chest invading his mind.

"Let's let that dry." Vex comments mildly.

Hotguy watches in rapture the show of Vex drawing up five syringes, one from each vial, sure hands speaking of experience. One by one the syringes are set down in Hotguy's line of sight, fresh needles still capped.

"Are you going to be a good Hero for me, and not cum all over yourself when I stick you with needles, or will I need to make sure you can't?" Vex raises an eyebrow behind his mask, glowing eyes trained inexorably on Hotguy.

"Enjoy. Want- I'll... good." The words making a home in his mind thread through his thoughts, one and the same. Challenge, Vex is challenging him. Hotguy will always rise to Vex's challenges. "I can. I will!" Hotguy juts his chin up, defiant.

"Good. I do so prefer when you obey willingly. Just so much better with the personal touch, isn't it? When you have the choice." Vex smiles, vicious and warm. "Be prepared."

Uncapping the first syringe, Vex slowly sinks the needle into the meat of Hotguy's tit.

Anything Hotguy could have said garbles under the sting of the needle, the sight of the metal vanishing into his flesh. Clenching his thighs tight, tighter- Slamming into that edge at speed, fighting tooth and nail to hold the line. Fighting- Fighting...

In a rush the fight goes entirely out of Hotguy, tossed to the wind as he embraces the full power of Vex's relaxation. Sinking. To that place beyond enjoyment, transcendent. Divine.

Divinity pumped directly into his bloodstream with the steady press of the plunger.

Fierce, throbbing burn that remains even when Vex removes the needle. A painful-bright reminder that he willingly accepted more of Vex's drugs into his body.

"Good job." Vex praises, words swimming hot and liquid through Hotguy's head, mixing with the ever-present drone of Vex. "Here's the next one." Again, steel bites tit-flesh in divine pain.

This time the sense of tranquil peace arrives much faster, barely a twitch of that troublesome meat before Hotguy sinks into whimpering moans. Every beat of Hotguy's heart carries the concoction through his body, mingles them together, his own organ complicit in his magma-melted demise.

No, not demise. The burn only grows, but that sparks the true word to Hotguy's mind. Rebirth.

Vex is remaking Hotguy in his own image. Forging Hotguy into the perfect version of himself, for Vex.

For Vex. Vex, and Vex alone.

Of course Vex’s magic would burn, hitting a human system. Paving the way for deeper changes. Aligning them.

The fourth benediction glides into his chest with barely a ripple on Hotguy’s mind. His eyes are busy receiving oracle of a pair of fae, swooping through the city skyline, wings clashing in showers of sparks. Glowing eyes locked only to one another.

Circling, drawing closer and closer to their inevitable collision. Bathing the world in their exploding fire.

The fifth anointment is barely distinct from the fourth, fanning his flames ever-higher. Tangling their licking tongues around Hotguy's mind, around his soul.

Vex's gloved hands knead at Hotguy's chest, working the magic in, encouraging the flames to build a home there. Here. Inside Hotguy, ready to be called forth whenever Vex wishes.

The vision fades away, leaving only the two of them behind. Linked, blood and magic and soul.

[whisperwritingstuff]

it's only comfort, calling late

This is an e/l verse ficlet, which was written as part of MCYT Battleship 2026, earlier this year. Though e/l overall is cowritten by myself and @varanere00, this specific ficlet was entirely written by myself. This fic can also be found on ao3 here.

This is a short piece focusing on the Doc and Cub relationship, in terms of giving comfort through unspecified distress. enjoy!

------

Doc lets himself into Cub’s apartment without knocking.

Padding on silent paws, Doc moves through the darkened apartment with the ease of familiarity.  At Cub's bedroom door, Doc uses his neural implants to digitally handshake with the lock.  Cub's systems will always let him in, after all.

Doc enters quickly, shutting the door silently behind him with as minimal extra light and sound contact as he can manage.

The Cub-shaped lump on the bed says nothing.  Doc wouldn't expect him to, not when Doc was getting enough lowkey distressed pings from Cub's implants to warrant a home visit.  Normally Cub has a better hold on those not leaking out, but nothing about this feels quite normal.

Not that Doc is here as Cub's doctor, at least not primarily.  No, Doc's here in this moment as Cub's concerned partner.  Though they may live apart, and each have other partners as well, that doesn't diminish how much Cub or Doc care for one another.  Nor their willingness to show up for one another in moments of need, like now.

Even if Doc does still think fondly of the years they lived together in the dorms.  Having Cub in his nest every night was always a treat.

For now, Doc just focuses on building up a nest around Cub.  One more layer between the outside world and Cub's raw senses.  Doc may not know what caused this, and he certainly isn't about to make Cub answer any questions about it yet, but he does know what is soothing for Cub.

Construction finished, Doc ever so carefully climbs into the nest. Thankfully, Cub’s bed is large enough for Doc to settle nearby without ever even brushing against the blanket lump. Not so intimidating now, despite Cub's villainous alter ego Vex having such an iron grasp on the city's seedy underbelly.

Once comfortably loafed, Doc pulls out his e-ink e-reader, adjusting his eye implant to be able to read it clearly even in the near-entire lack of light. After all, Doc knows he’s likely to be here a while.  No point in being bored, if there's something he can do that doesn't bother Cub any.

Hours later, Doc feels the weight of the blanketed lump of Cub settle into his flank. The only acknowledgment Doc gives this development is starting a lowly rumbling purr, one that’s entirely sensation over sound. A gentle rattling that only has the cocoon tucking in closer to him.

So it's back to reading for Doc, now with his cozy weight.  In the back of his mind, Doc can't help but cherish the trust of Cub not forcing himself to be 'more normal' about this around Doc.  Simply Cub taking his own needs, without disguise or hesitation or shame.

Doc refuses to let himself get misty-eyed over this, but it's a damn close call.  If a single hand sneaking out to pat at the thickest bits of Doc's fur over and over in repetitive pattern perhaps knocks loose a few of those tears-  No it didn't, Doc has no idea what anyone's talking about.

Doc's just taking good care of his partner, his little horror, is all.  Time he's happy to spend together, just soaking in Cub's presence, even when they're doing nothing at all.  A perfect evening.

[varanere00]

Sex Pollen Attack (of Eternal Doom!!!!)

ao3 link

solo written for e/l verse during 2026 MCYT Battleship

warning for fictional noncon

Cuffs click in place, as Vex forces Cuteguy onto a breeding bench. Straps him down, heavy leather on his arms, his legs. His wings. That instead of strapping down tightly to Cuteguy's back, Vex pulls wide into a display. Wraps something Cuteguy can't see around the wing arms, holding them in place with his wings spread wide in a mockery of a mating display.

Cuteguy sobs.

"So pretty. gorgeous bird. And soon, you'll be all mine." Vex sinks greedy hands into Cuteguy's feathers, petting and groping. It doesn't even hurt. No, it feels nice, and that's the worst part about this. Cuteguy doesn't want to enjoy a villain's hands on his wings. And yet he is.

"Don't! Don't touch-" A sob cuts him off.

"Quiet. Birds don't speak. They only sing." Vex commands. His hands do fall away from Cuteguy's wings, but return to force a ring gag into Cuteguy's mouth. Trying to bite Vex gets his feathers yanked, and his face slapped.

"Bad bird. Now open." Vex again demands, pressing on Cuteguy's jaw until he can't take the pain anymore and opens his mouth. The ring gag is forced in roughly, buckles strapping around his neck and pinning even his headwings.

"Now then. That's better." Cold fingers pet Cuteguy's tongue. "Such a well behaved bird for me." Another condescending pet to Cuteguy's head, the Vex walks around to his butt. "And such a delicious treat here too!" A pat to his butt.

Cold wet fingers find Cuteguy's hole, slipping inside. Opening him with little regard for comfort. Why would vex care about that now. He already has what he wants.

"You can come caged and untouched, can't you pet?" Vex croons, pushing in. "If you can't, well, I guess I'll have to put you on a fucking machine until you do. Train you into it so you cream yourself every time I push into you." Cuteguy's caged cock throbs hard and painfully at those words. He's full on crying by now, sobs shaking him as his nose and cock and mouth compete for who can drool more. "I don't actually want you to die, so if you haven’t cum after say, three hours on the machine, I'll stick a sound up your dick, and shock your prostate until you do."

Vex rocks into Cuteguy, taking his pleasure and making no move to his Cuteguy's prostate whatsoever. Simply uses him like a toy.

Time blurs with pain until Vex cums, grunting as he bends over Cuteguy, clutching his spread wide feathers.

"Well, I guess it's the machine for you." Vex does not sound sad about this. In short order, he has something set up, a dildo kissing Cuteguy's hole. When Vex pushes it in it's so big it stretches him to the point of pain, and textured as fuck to boot. No way this can make him cum. This will destroy his ass.

"Hmm, one more thing." Vex hums, slipping under Cuteguy. A sound pushes into his caged dick, deeper and deeper, until it coils in his bladder. Still, there is more. More and more of it, until Vex has to use force to push it in and it feels like Cuteguy's lower tummy is bulging with the amount stuffed into him. Another point of pain. One that will only grow worse as time goes by, Cuteguy's bladder filling more and more. How anything else is supposed to fit in there he doesn't know. What he does know is that it will hurt, and that Vex has taken the chance to relieve that hut away from him.

"There we go. Can't have you making a mess, now can we? No, you need to be housebroken, my prettiest bird. Enjoy yourself, pet." Vex pats his head, disappearing out the door, leaving Cuteguy to his misery.

...

Finishing up his fic, Grian glances around the room. Most people look like they checked out long ago. Only Mr. Fan- Cub, as he's now allowed to call him, still looks alert. Laptop open as well, occasionally typing. Probably notes. Cub is so diligent.

Grian however is using his meeting time to write the filthiest smut about Cuteguy and Vex. Himself and Vex. He is Cuteguy, after all. Vigilante partner to the full time Hero Hotguy. To Scar. His mate.

He can barely suppress the flutter of excitement over the fact that they finally talked it out, that Scar is finally his mate after years of being so sure his crush was one-sided.

Now if only he could court Cub too.

Shaking himself out of the longing stare he'd fallen into, Grian sets about posting his fic. Can't deprive the public of their CuteFae smut, now can he?

---

His cranial implant linked up to his mind inform Cub of a new email One of the the few things he'd used his Vex email to sign up for. A new fic upload, and from his favorite author no less! They write such good smut between Vex, Cub's villain persona, and Cuteguy. CuteFae, as it's called. Sure, most of it isn't all that accurate. They don't know he's not actually a fae, instead using gravity tech and implants for his flying and phasing, and having gene spliced squid DNA into his skin cells to allow him to change his skin color. Mainly to the characteristic Vex blue, but sometimes he does other colors. They can feel very nice.

Opening the link, because honestly, Mueller will drone on and on in meetings and there's only so long Cub can play minesweeper on his implants or text with Tango while looking attentive.

He's not the only one. Most of the table is zones out, only Mr. Fischer – Grian, as Cub has been given leave to call him- is still diligently taking notes. He's one of Cub's best employees for a reason.

Oh? CuteFae sexpollen noncon? cutestcutefanguy has really outdone themselves. Not that Cub would actually rape someone, that would hurt his image. Opening the fic, he starts to read.

Rating: E

Archive warning: Rape/Noncon

Fandom: Heros and Villains RPF

Relationships: Cuteguy (Hero RPF)/Vex (Villain RPF)

Characters: Cuteguy (Hero RPF), Vex (Villain RPF)

Additional Tags: Sex Pollen Attack of the Week, Cock Cages, Fuck or Die, mentioned Hotguy (Heros RPF), Sounding, Wing Kink, Bondage, Wing Bondage, Nonconsentual Wing Handling, Forced Mating Displays, Feather yanking, Gags, Fucking Machines, Breeding Bench, Bladder Stuffing, Large Insertions, Painful Sex

Words: 965 Hits: 3 Kudos:0

Sex Pollen Attack of Eternal Doom!!!!

cutestcutefanguy

'Please let Vex be home!' Cuteguy thinks, flying as fast as he can to Vex's lair. 'I can't take much more of this!' In his costume, his caged dick is throbbing hard, need burning through his body. Stupid Vex, capturing him and putting it on him, and then refusing to give him the key! That asshole! And then, Cuteguy got hit by the sex pollen the villain of the day is throwing around like candy. And sex pollen protocol for Heros and Vigilantes dictates they have to seek out their assigned sex pollen fuck partner and fuck it out. Because no-one wants to find out if it's fuck or die the hard way.

Do they really have assigned partners? That's one way to go about it, Cub supposes. He just makes everyone list a specifies emergency contact for sex pollen attacks.

Landing on the landing pad, Cuteguy pounds on the door. He needs in! Hotguy is busy fighting the villain, and besides, Hotguy is immune to sex pollen anyway! so he won't need Cuteguy to fuck it out!

Cuteguy however needs Vex! Now!!!

"Impatient bird." Vex takes his time opening the door, letting Cuteguy take in those spread crystalline wings. The everyday clothes Vex is wearing. Cuteguy flushes bright red when he sees Vex is wearing a Cuteguy shirt.

Cub pauses for a moment, to order more Cuteguy merch. In his own size, as well as in Cuteguy's, and Hotguy's size. For the next time those two stop by the Concave. Cub isn't sure just what the three of them are, but the kidnapping weeks with Hotguy he allowed himself to have once a year as a birthday gift have slowly been growing into something more. They come by of their own free will, now. No mind control collars necessary.

They haven't seen each other in person since Vex held Cuteguy down and forced his cock into a cage.

"Decided to be mine yet?" Vex drawls, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"No I- I need-" Cuteguy stumbles over his words. "Sex pollen. Can't-" The reality of what he's doing here hits, tears stinging his eyes.

"So you need my help?" Vex purrs. Cuteguy can only nod.

"Say it. Look me in the eye and tell me you want me to fuck you. Or I'll leave you here to die." Vex demands.

Cuteguy wants- he wants to leave. To go back to Hotguy's side. Help him defeat the villain. But his legs are shaking, his heart is pounding in his ears, and his dick hurts.

"H- help me. Ple- fuck me." Cuteguy can barely meet Vex's eye, words coming out barely above a whisper.

"It would be my pleasure." Vex has his hands on Cuteguy already, pulling him inside. Not caring for the tears that roll down Cuteguy's face.

Vex takes him to his sex dungeon. A dark, dreary room with chains and metal furniture everywhere. Peels him out of his armor and costume, leaving him with only his mask. Cuteguy tolerates it limply.

There's an idea. So far, Cub doesn't have a sex playroom in the ConCave. Just in his civilian apartment above. Something to look into. To strip Cueguy out of his armor in it- that sounds like a dream come true. Cub has been wanting to run his hands over every plate, every joint of that armor for a while now. Explore how it fits together, how it keeps him safe. Peel him out while kissing ever bit of newly revealed skin. Until Cuteguy is bare below him, for Cub to ravish. Or Cuteguy to ravish him, Cub's not picky.

Though, keeping the uniform on does also tickle Cub. The three of them have yet to do anything in their uniforms. Apart from their masks, which they always keep on.

Fucking Cuteguy in uniform. Being fucked by Cuteguy in uniform- Cub makes a note to commission art of that. Lifesized. He needs to be able to gaze at that for hours. Trace the way the armored shirt accents Cuteguy's shoulders. The way the pink of his armor and the pink of his wings don't clash, and yet also don't meld together. Cub has no idea how he does that. On the entirety of his armor, really. All that pale pink and black should make him look flat.

Instead, it brings out his best features and enhances them. That keel-and-flight-muscles strong chest Cub has admired outside of the armor just looks even more delectable in it. Peeking out of the tame little boob window to give just a little tease.

Mueller ending his presentation and passing the meeting back to Cub jolts him out of his daydreams of Cuteguy and his uniform that he so has to bring up with him sometime. For now, he has a meeting to lead, and a tasty treat to read after.

[varanere00]

inside you (caught in my head)

ao3 link

solo written for e/l verse during 2026 MCYT Battleship

"I can't." Grian suddenly pushes off the table where he has Scar laid out.

"What's up?" Cub asks from him chair off to the side.

"I don't- I can't- aaargh!" Grian furiously works his arms out of the lab-coat Cub had lent him, throwing it across the room. The syringes and disinfectant spray he'd been given as well as the gloves follow.

"What- can someone untie me? Please?" Scar asks, still strapped down to the exam table.

"Grian. What's wrong. Talk to us." Carefully, slowly, like he might spook and run away, Cub approaches him.

"I don't- I don't know!" Grian's yell is cut short by a sob, tears streaming down his face.

"You don't know, alright. Let's- let's get Scar unstrapped, and then we can all go cuddle in bed, how about that? I can make us hot chocolate? With marshmallows?" Cub offers, floundering. He's not really good at this, at comforting people.

"Ye-yeah." Grian sniffs. "Sorry that I ruined every thing." He's curled up, arms and wings wrapped tight around himself.

"We don't know what happened. It's most likely not your fault." Cub reasons, getting to work unstrapping Scar. He'd offered to help Grian, be involved more hands-on, but Grian had claimed to have everything under control, and had banished Cub to the rolling chair over by the counter.

A handful of practiced motions have Scar unstrapped, with him being able to help once his hands are freed.

"Grian...." Scar scoots off the cot, not caring that he's naked, and wraps both arms around Grian. "We got you. Both of us. We're here for you." He presses soft kisses to pinned tight aural wings.

"We are." Cub confirms, stepping closer to join the hug. Wrapping his own arms tightly around Grian. They'll work it out. They always do.