T s u k i

Of course, while still stuck in said man's arms. His veins pulsing with life- the darker color contrasting against his fair complexion.

You sigh as usual composed man whined in to your abdomen, when you tried to get up from the coach.

His tone arms wrapped around your waist- refusing to let go.

You tried to coax him gently at first but he just mumbled in to your skin.

"Do you wish to part from me that much? We just reunited after a long time"

You could understand his anxiety of parting with you, again, especially when something happened that made you two become separated for quite some time.

But still-

"Look, Kardia mou, we still need to get up and get ready, we slept in already- the sun is in the middle of the sky now"

Luuk's mouth quirks up slightly at the name that rolled off of your tongue smoothly.

"Alright, alright. Let's go then!"

He stood up immediately and dragged you along to his master bedroom.

Wait

You flush despite your best effort in not letting the gold dust your cheeks and ears.

"Woah there, aren't we taking turns?"

Luuk raised his brows, looking at you as if you're the one whose words and action doesn't make sense. His gaze not leaving your face- taking in the hint of good that covered your skin.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?

He asked innocently.

Yeah, innocent my ass.

You resigned to your fate as Luuk guided you towards the bedroom, his hands intertwined with yours.

As soon as you arrived, he started taking off his clothing to get into the shower and you couldn't look away from his form- starting with his shirt. Old scars with bright blue veins decorated his body as your eyes wonder aimlessly.

You have seen him shirtless multiple times before, even naked, but this situation feels far more intimate than patching up his injuries or watching him patch himself up.

This is the first time where you can actually observe his body with a peace of mind.

"You're staring"

His gentle voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you quickly look away- your complexion turning even more gold.

He chuckles at your reaction before urging you to do the same with his eyes. You hesitated abit but complied.

You slowly took off your clothing piece by piece- your figure also covered in markings from old battles.

You both slowly stepped in to the bathroom while looking at anywhere besides each other- at least, for you that is.

Luuk is just admiring your body, his eyes taking up your features with relief washing over him that you're here, and not going anywhere for an indefinite amount of time.

His soft gaze never left your figure as you step into the showers- following you closely.

His arms find themselves wrapping your waist, making you yelp in surprise from the sudden touch. The feeling of his bare chest pressed up against your back made shivers crawl down your spine.

"H-Hey, what's with you being this touchy?"

Although, your so called 'complaint' lack any trace of irritation.

He just pouts and counter your question with his impenetrable defense.

"I just got you back two days ago, let me be"

He spoke, emphasizing the 'just'.

You pause at his explanation. Although, he seems unaffected, you know he has been worrying about you, for the entire time of your disappearance- you can tell even if he tries to hide it.

You can tell he was being more clingy because he was afraid you would suddenly vanish again.

You didn't answer him, just let your hand entangle in his hair as his face buried into your shoulder- breathing in your scent.

You let your other hand turn the water on- letting droplets of water engulf both of your bodies.

Luuk lets you go in favour of plumping soap in his palms; he rubs them together and let the soap bubbles that formed ,along his with his hands, pressed against the sole of your back.

You groan when his arms start wandering and messaging your whole body, making you untense and relax against his chest.

Though, his movements were abruptly stopped when you swiftly turned to him. You, wordlessly, copy his actions prior to balance it out- you defend internally.

You hands touch his figure without leaving any spots untouched. During your 'procedures', your Luuk lets out small noises of pleasure- not even bothering to hide them.

You caress his pecs, more than necessary, fingers lightly tracing the marks and blood vessels- making his breath quicken.

Unfortunately, you can't stay in the showers forever, so, you reluctantly pull away to wrap yourself in a towel- handing him one as well.

As you both step out of the washroom, Luuk opened his closet and offers you his clothings.

You raise your brows and couldn't help the teasing remarks that left your mouth.

"Oh? Do you wish to see me wearing your clothes that much?"

You questioned while taking the shirt and pulling it over your head.

Luuk smiled, unbothered by your words.

"Isn't normal for lovers to borrow each other's clothes?"

He rebukes and you just grinned at his question. He slowly guides you to a chair while holding a hairdryer that he picked up on the table.

His long fingers starts to brush and detangle your hair while you just look at his reflection in the mirror- his concentrated expression making you giddy.

He and your peers, the other flamechasers, would get along well- you're sure of it.

Well, you are planning to introduce them soon anyway.

It would be better to let them meet before your wedding and start another new chapter in your life.

This is the dawn that's promised solely to you.

Kardia mou: My heart

“you look like you have something to say,” LUUK speaks up, breaking the prolonged but comfortable silence between the two of you. earlier, he invited you over for coffee and now here you are, sat across from the blond and peering over your cup as you admire him silently. “i don’t know what you mean,” you tell him but the playful smile on your lips says otherwise. luuk chortles at your blatant lie, “you do realize i read people for a living.” when luuk only gets a chuckle out of you, he asks again, “what is it?” “do you think i can hold the world in my hands?” your random question renders luuk absolutely stupefied with his mouth hanging open but not a single word comes out. with a giggle, you quip, “you asked.” despite his confusion, the ever so patient doctor decides to humor you anyway, “okay. show me.” his attention on you now is so steady that it’s starting to make you self-conscious at the cheesiness of it all but you still grant his request. you lean over the table with outstretched hands until they softly land on each side of his face and luuk is speechless once more, so uncharacteristically stunned. you await his reaction, expecting him to blush but instead, you catch his teeth digging into his bottom lip—he’s holding in a laugh. embarrassed, you pull away from him and settle back into your seat but you’re laughing yourself, “jerk. i was trying to be sweet.” at that, luuk finally laughs with you. “it is,” he says, reaching across the table to take your hand, “it was just unexpected, is all.” he brings your knuckles to his lips for a peck but not before teasing, “you’re always so serious.” you gasp in mock offense, “i can be fun!”

MORTEFI has been holed up in his lab for hours, a faint scowl—which looks almost identical to his resting face—etched on his visage as he stares at stacks of paperwork. “you busy?” it was a stupid question because he obviously is but he doesn’t seem to mind. he momentarily takes off his glasses to rub the strain from his eyes before he addresses you. “i have time. did you need something?” “well…” you act as if you’re deep in thought, “i’m conducting a study myself.” “oh?” he perks up at your statement and you feel a sense of satisfaction surge through you. “yup,” you proudly confirm, walking over to him as he follows you with expectant eyes, “i’m trying to see if i can hold the world in my hands.” before he gets the chance to ask, you’re already bringing up your hands to his face in a gentle touch. mortefi clearly is at a loss for words. he fails to come up with a response, resorting to a slight shake of his head but he’s obviously amused by you from the way a smile begins to tug at the corners of his lips. “you look really stressed lately. i just wanted to loosen you up a little,” you tell him almost apologetically for taking up his time but he only meets your gaze with soft eyes. there’s a gleam in them that oozes adoration but his tone remains neutral when he plays along with your jest, “i suppose the result of your experiment is rather… favorable.” “good,” you beam before giving him a peck on the nose, “now i’ll leave you to your actual research.” mortefi simply chuckles but before you can pull away and peel your hands from his skin, he leaves a tender kiss against your palm.

The lighting that day had been perfect. Deep red satin shining in the afternoon. A perfect, shining gem coveted for its luster and cut.

His days were numbered. So many patients said they felt their body failing them. Feofan had confessed as such over the decades.

His hands had always been so steady, so capable. Surgery was nothing more than child’s play. Fine motor work that was second nature, honed and refined in long hours few ever bothered with. Painting was your forte, your second love, but you’d taught him with patience that almost outpaced his own.

How did someone barely in their third decade be so willing to wait? At that age, he was only patient when it mattered, but you?

You felt at ease in this world. He didn’t so much envy you as he did long to capture it, understand it, so he too could feel it, one day.

Zandik stepped back from the canvas, brow furrowed as he forced his bad eye to focus. Depth perception was difficult and his heart sank.

Nothing but a shadow. Colors stood too sharp against one another, his fingers having been too sore for longer blending periods. It was obvious he’d had more energy for your face, the finest part of the entire masterpiece. Ten years ago, this would have been so easy.

Useless.

Old.

Decrepit.

Why did you bother with him, he wondered. This was meant to be your birthday present, the way he saw you and what you meant to him.

Would you feel compelled to fix it? Straighten the lines, smooth the colors, make quick work of his shaky splatters?

He couldn’t hold a wrench anymore, nor were his eyes good for small mechanisms. With all of the major projects outsourced to the better and more capable parts of himself, this was all he had left. How else did one capture their world visually?

He sat down, palette knife in hand, contemplating just slashing the thing to pieces.

“Zandik?”

Your voice, a melody.

One he didn’t deserve, not right now. The sentiment must have shown or you would not have hesitated as you said, “I can come back.”

He held out a hand, dropping the knife and beckoning you. You took it upon reaching him, fingers finding the sore joints you always worked. So warm, like morning sun on dewed grass.

Your appraising silence was a strange comfort to the voice in his head.

“You are unhappy with it, I take it?” you asked, nestling onto his leg, skirts rustling as you pulled the palette knife from his other hand.

“I can’t do anything anymore,” Zandik whispered. “What good am I, when parts of me are so much more efficient, quicker witted, not prone to failure? What do you see in me?”

You pressed a hand to his cheek and he turned to look at you, still barely halfway through life and full of vigor. Eyes that spoke far beyond their years. Those were always his favorite part of you, so expressive, vibrant.

“I see a man determined,” you started. “Who sacrifices himself in hopes of breaking a wheel he may not be around to see shatter.”

You picked up a brush and without breaking your thought, mixed colors nearby.

“Who looks at the world and understands he still has much to learn, even now.”

Skilled hands filled in the space above your shoulder, painting hands, a jacket, red eyes.

“Who looks at me as if I am a marvel despite having experienced every cruelty this world has to offer. Who has let me chip away at the rational transitional walls that stood between us for many years and given me a treasure unimaginable.”

His eyes stung but through a fog, he saw a soft expression, watched as you turned your pose from a stoic mirror into a dynamic, private moment. Your pose originally involved looking off to the side, away from the viewer, but now you looked at the new figure.

Him.

Two styles, not quite clashing but not blending together, either. Faces the only parts in focus.

“I see a man who loves me, Zandik. And that has always been enough.”

He pulled you closer once you put the tools aside, burrowing his head against you. Other parts might say he grew sentimental in his old age despite ripping apart his soul. Perhaps he had. What else was there for the world to teach him?

Despite being incredible controlling and with less patience, he would always take care of mundane things, such as: doing the laundry, cooking, cleaning. Often letting his lover rest while he takes care of everything.

Loves to talk about his research and new inventions, talking for hours non-stop, but will get pissed off when you ask him about anything if he doesn't bring it first. Very contradicting.

When his partner gets sick, he refuses to let anyone else check on them, taking care of everything with his huge knowledge on medical herbs and treatments, followed by muttered scolding and half bothered complaints. "You should have listened to me when I said cutting the moldy part doesn't make something edible."

Dislikes cuddling before sleep but craves closeness before waking up completely, arms wrapping around you and holding you close.

Very attractive young man, and knows it, as a matter of fact. Yet instead of using that at his advantage when given the chance, he often replies to every person the same: "Unfortunately for you I have a very possessive partner, and believe it or not, I'm actually a married man." Not giving them the chance to flirt.

Out of all the stages in his life, he was the most romantic and the most reckless during this time, making out sessions in the library halls, small walks around Sumeru City that ended on him spending some of his savings (which for a student, isn't a big amount of money) and buying goods for her, from seasonings and spices to notebooks and pencils.

Zandik refuses to take her in any degrading way, refusing to do it in a position where he isn't able to stare at her expressions. "I'm not an animal, neither you a rag doll. Let me see your face."

Always decides what is best for you, and when you complain about it he will always say: "I'm just practicing how to be a father if that possibility happens." How can you possible reply to that?

He does not only want to be the best, he wants YOU to be at the same level, he will help until dawn in every research or experiment you are working on, perfection should be with perfection.

“Hmm, you’re not entirely wrong. I came to you because I missed your company.” While his tone might rile someone else up or cause some sort of negative reaction, you remained as calm and collected as you usually did. He faltered momentarily in the face of your honesty.

“Well,” he sniffed, trying to brush you off, “I am going to be quite busy here, so I won’t be able to entertain you.” A few moments of silence passed.

“Alright, if you want me to go, then I will. I won’t distract you.” You conceded and began to make your way out of the room.

“Wait.” The Segment had put down everything he was tinkering with and stared at you, mouth slightly agape, as if he wasn’t expecting you to listen to him. Eighteen glanced around the area for something to stall you with, to delay your departure. Ah, some documents that needed to be delivered to another Segment. He could just ask you to pass them on and then manage to strike up something research-related, and then you could linger-

But that is when he remembered that you wouldn’t come back anyway, and what’s more, your time for the rest of the day would probably be consumed by that other version of him. He wasn’t very fond of you leaving him to go to someone else.

“Yes?” You cocked your head to the side, awaiting his response. He felt heat crawl up his neck.

“Nothing,” he said dumbly. You let out a hum in response and turned around again, slowly strolling toward the exit, taking the time to look at the ceiling and examine the bits of machinery and reports here and there. It was almost like you were doing this on purpose.

“If there’s nothing else, then I’ll see you-” You were nearly at the door before something collided into you from behind, knocking the words out of your mouth. It only took a few seconds to notice that Eighteen had latched himself onto your back, arms wrapped around your sides.

“H-Hey?” At most, you were expecting the Segment to create an excuse to get you to stay, not tackle you from behind, but you weren’t complaining. “Eighteen?” The call of his name made his breath hitch as he loosened his grip on you a bit.

“I…” The words got stuck in his throat, the short curls of his blue hair tickling your cheek. There wasn’t really a convincing way to bluff his way out of this when he’d practically thrown himself onto you. “I was going to ask you to…” Just being around you was making him lightheaded.

It was then that you wiggled out of his grip to turn around, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking at him with the kindest gaze anyone had ever given him.

“I’ll stay,” you said simply, before sauntering back to your place again at the top of his desk, patting your thigh like it was a motion for him to come closer. Of course, he had his ways, but he was more obedient to you than he’d ever admit.

Eighteen hovered in front of you, arms hanging lanky by his side as if he had forgotten how to use them after embracing you, before you grabbed his hands and placed them on your waist. He swallowed, acting as if the heat that was burning him up was nothing. Your thumb rubbed circles along his jaw before cupping his chin and pulling him in.

The Segment whimpered as your lips connected, and one hand moved to grip the back of your shirt while the other fiercely sank into your softness. Your hand reached to caress his cheek, and the other massaged his scalp, and his knees almost gave out at the sensation.

There are very few things in this world that Eighteen would describe as lovely, if any, but you unquestionably were. And he would probably be indulging in your loveliness until he was out of breath… which would probably be soon, but you’re good at telling him to take breaks, right?

—

Although all of the Segments had their own disputes and feelings about each other, it had become obvious that Eighteen was a bit more… vocal about his displeasure. Perhaps it stemmed from being one of the youngest of the Segments, maybe from the frequent and ever-present feeling of being overlooked and rejected, or maybe something else. And every so often, you had to witness such situations.

In this case, while the thirty-five-year-old Segment found it interesting to read through the Akademiya’s editorials and other publications from time to time, the eighteen-year-old would scoff and roll his eyes whenever the topic was brought up. It wasn’t hard to understand why. The young Segment was stuck reliving the pain of attending and being excluded for his ideas, the trauma of being blamed for the death of someone he didn’t cause. It was no wonder he had stronger feelings about the school while the older ones had mellowed out. 

“Do you really need to spend so much time reading those things? Surely it can’t be that interesting. Nothing from people who allow themselves to be chained to the rules can,” Eighteen huffed as he eyed the paper the older Segment was reading. Thirty-Five seemed unbothered.

“I won’t deny that. However, generalizing would be a mistake. There are a few pieces that manage to hold some substance, although they are exceedingly rare.” The Segment agreed, and yet somewhat did not at the same time. Eighteen clicked his tongue, and that was when he turned to you for support.

“[Name], don’t you agree? You’ve experienced the hypocrisy of the Akademiya firsthand, have you not?” There was something in the younger Segment’s eyes that seemed like he was searching for your approval.

“Me? Well, I-” It was then that you paused, and something quite sad dawned on you. You had been able to change, but he could not. Thirty-Five then glanced at your downcast expression.

“Eighteen, do refrain from asking them intrusive questions.” The older Segment let out a sigh.

“Can’t I be curious about their opinion?” Because you were the only person who would take him seriously and answer him with something thoughtful.

“Not at their expense.” Eighteen chewed his lip at the older Segment’s words before taking a glimpse at your face and seeing your glumness. His mouth opened - to say what, he didn’t even know - before closing it. An awkward silence fell, and he quietly left.

You soon found where he had run off to soon after, and he looked like he was expecting you.

“Did I offend you?” He couldn’t help being blunt. It was just in his nature to ask difficult questions and seek difficult answers. You let out a small laugh. Before, he didn’t seem to care in the moment, but it seemed that, after some reflection, he truly did care about your feelings.

“No… No, you didn’t. I know you just wanted a direct answer from a direct question. I just needed some time to think about it.” Eighteen’s stiff posture relaxed a bit after receiving your reassurance.

“But anyway… Eighteen, I’ve… moved on from those times. From what they did to me at least. It still upsets me, but it was so long ago. I don’t want to waste my energy on it.” You remember all the stares and chatter that popped up when you decided to stay with The Outcast, from your peers and professors and the Sages, effectively making the others push you away. But it wasn’t something you would ever regret. You would choose Zandik again and again, no matter what others told you. However, the Segment didn’t look satisfied with that answer.

“They threw you out of the Akademiya without any attempts at accommodations. They would hardly spare you a glance or listen to when you asked for extensions or tried to explain your condition.” He progressively raised his voice as he recounted your struggles. “And those people, they looked at you like-” He bit his tongue as if uttering it would send him into a deeper fury. “Those doctors too, they just brushed you aside and-”

It was then you truly realized that Eighteen wasn’t just scarred from his own rejection. At how cruelly he was received by everyone around him. He was upset about how they treated you too. At how his only beloved had to suffer so terribly. 

You grabbed Eighteen’s hand, and that seemed to bring him back to you. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure how you could go about this. You could teach him how to love, but it was a different story helping him to shed such deep-seated insecurity and nonacceptance.

“I know. I remember all of that, and I don’t like it either, just as I hate what both of us had to go through.” One of your hands brushed his palm, while the other stroked the top. “But… the Akademiya can’t hurt me again. And… they can’t hurt you. We aren’t there anymore. I know I can’t change your mind, but… we’re here now. Things are different, and I have you with me. And I’m very happy with you right now, in this moment. At the very least, know that.” 

You felt as if that was a flimsy answer, but you didn’t know what else to say. Because in truth, it was only natural he could never forget those experiences, especially at such a tender age. 

“… I guess if that’s really what you think, then I’m inclined to take your opinion into consideration.” There were a few beats of silence before Eighteen quietly replied. You could only wrap your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He slowly reciprocated and held you, and he felt something flutter in his chest when you pressed a small kiss to his skin.

You were so warm. He would not compare it to an all-consuming fire that chased things away from it and made hearts race in fear. You were just… warm.

But you knew that although you said all of that, your poor boy could never move on from the pain of rejection embedded into his very core. 

—

There was a quiet corner of the lab that Eight seemed to like to hang around in besides being in his room, and he soon introduced you to it. The attachment was beginning to grow deep, as he began to show you more of his notebooks and various texts the others had given him - mainly from Forty-Five and the original Zandik. 

“So, this is where you’ve been.” A voice suddenly echoed nearby, the click of Eighteen’s boots sounding as well. The older Segment appeared in front of you, and when he noticed the young boy on your lap, his expression changed.

“Hi, Eighteen. I’m surprised you’ve found us all the way out here. Did you need something?” Eight glanced at him but kept his head down in his books.

“I..” His usual brashness seemed to temporarily dissipate at the sight. The child sat in your lap, with one hand keeping him securely positioned and the other playing with his soft hair, adorning him with soft kisses on his cheek from time to time as he pointed to things and explained them. But after a few moments, his attitude came back. 

“I came for you. Because we have things to do.” You raised your eyebrows, still keeping your gentle smile on your face.

“Like…?” The Segment floundered for an answer.

“Reports. Research. I need your opinion.” He crossed his arms as if you should have already known.

“I’m happy to help you with all of that. But right now, I’m with Eight.” You patted the child’s head to emphasize. “I’m sure I could come visit you when we’re done, though.” He didn’t move from that spot as you turned your attention back to the kid. You praised his younger self and nodded along with his ideas, and Eighteen gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stand to watch something so childish and nonsensical. 

“And Forty-Five is calling for you, Eight.” Eighteen suddenly interrupted once more, drawing your attention to him once again.

“I didn’t hear anything in the hive-mind.” Eight put his book down and quietly replied.

“Well, maybe you weren’t paying attention.” His response was immediate and scowling. You frowned and shot the older Segment a look, but he ignored your gaze. A few seconds later, the child grabbed his notebooks and was heading off.

“Bye, [Name].” Eight lingered near you as you smoothed down his hair from all the ruffling you did before departing.

“Bye-bye, my dear.” You waved him goodbye, and now only you and Eighteen were left in the room. “Alright then, I guess we should-”

“Why do you tolerate him?!” The force of his words had you taken aback, but you had a feeling where this was going.

“Why… Why would I not-”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, or what he’s doing. He shouldn’t speak about it as if he-”

“Eight has some good ideas-”

“Those are naive fantasies from someone who doesn’t understand how the world works. They are implausible. We have actual work to do, and we shouldn’t be wasting time listening to him. Not me, not you.” He had balled his fists up so tightly, you were sure it was painful.

People may not have wanted to listen to his ideas as a kid, but that little boy still had the ability to dream all the childish ideas he wanted. But for Eighteen, people still did not want to listen to his ideas, and he had gradually lost that ability to think freely as a child would. That was why he could not stand to be around Eight, who was the beginning of the ideas that others scorned him for, but still persisted to dream about them anyway.

“… But even if they are just childish fantasies, don’t they deserve to be appreciated and nurtured anyway? Perhaps so they could even grow into something more?” You took small steps toward him, his back turned to you as he shook. “And there were so many things that others said couldn’t be done, but you accomplished them anyway, didn’t you?” You placed your hand on his back, and the shaking stopped momentarily as you pressed your face against him.

“I love every part of you. The parts of you that make me smile and laugh. And the parts that others may have hated or feared about you… I love those just as much, and they deserve to be loved and seen.” Your arms reached to snake around Eighteen’s sides as he seemed to calm down, or at least stop shaking. “You don’t need to hide away those parts of yourself, because I want to learn about them all the same. So please don’t say that.” 

You could see that he wasn’t going to respond to you. So instead, you continued to hold Eighteen from behind as he blinked back tears and reached to place his hand over yours.

And when she saw that you actually had shaved, she cleared her throat before saying anything. You bit your bottom lip as you scanned her reaction. You weren’t sure how she felt— you were sure she felt like that, too. She seemed very confused.

“Alright,” She said, her hand dove deep into her curly black hair. “You shaved your bush.” She said in a louder voice. You nodded, your teeth still stuck in your lip. Diana pressed a kiss into your kneecap. “It’s okay— not the end of the world, nor is it the end of your bush, right?”

“Yes, yes, right.” You replied, trying not to laugh.

“You make fun of me, my love, but you don’t understand how I feel about all of this right now.” A shiver went down your body when she pressed her finger on your bare pussy. “Next time you decide to do it, do not— For me, at least.”

₊⊹ TALIA AL GHUL: DISAPPOINTED

“You shaved your bush?”

You could never forget the emotions etched into her voice. The frustration was flowing through her eyes and mouth, her frown got deeper every second she thought about your action.

“Talia, my love,” You grabbed her arms lightly, shaking her a little bit to make her look at you. “I thought you’d like it.”

You tried to console her but with your words she frowned even deeper. “Have I given you the impression that I didn’t like your bush?”

“God, no,” You sighed. You felt her hand snake around you and grab your waist, pulling your body towards herself. Her breath hit your face, she was so close to you. “It’s just I wanted to try something new, something I’ve never tried before.”

Her hand on your waist was rigid, holding you right where you were. You weren’t complaining. There was nothing more you liked than being on her arms like this. “Oh, Beloved, please don’t give me a heart attack like this again.”

You kissed her cheek, pressing your lips to her skin to stop yourself from laughing at her reaction. “As you wish, my love.”

₊⊹ KARA ZOR-EL: SARCASTIC

“You shaved it?” She asked. “All of it?” She patted Krypto’s head, who had been running around for attention.

“Yes, Kara, all of it.”

Krypto finally sat down and threw his body over Kara, who didn’t look like believed you. You knew so well her relationship with your cunt, especially your bush. She loved the feeling of it brushing her skin as she ate you out. She loved it when it tangled into her fingers she was rubbing the most sensitive parts of your body. She loved—

“But why?”

“Well, I… don’t really know. Wanted to try something out I guess.”

She gently pushed Krypto to the couch and got up to get in front of you. She held your hands, pulling you closer. You could smell the scent of the city all over her. Her Supergirl suit was still on…

“My darling, beautiful, amazing lover,” Kara thought a little more adjectives but then gave up. “Please, don’t do it again.” Kara’s palm made contact with your cheek. “I miss her already.”

“Stop talking like that!” You tried to pushed her but she didn’t move. You saw her grin on her face. “You know it makes me feel weird, Kara.”

“What? Treating your body like a goddess’ statue? You know I’ll never stop doing it.”

Even though it made you burn up with embarrassment, you liked it when she did it.

Kara tickled your side, “Promise you won’t even think about it again?” She held up her pinkie in front of your face.

“Is this a threat from the big bad Supergirl?”

“Nope. But can be if you make it to be. So… promise?”

You linked your pinkie with hers and nodded. “Promise.”

₊⊹ ZATANNA ZATARA: FLIRTY

It was right before her night show that Zatanna had realized you shaved earlier that day. She couldn’t have the time to make any comments about it because of the show— but after it, she came up to you before you could even congratulate her.

“So,” She said as she caught you in between her body and her vanity. Her hands were on the table, right next to you and her face was so, so close to yours. You were burning up. “You shaved, huh?” She had a crooked smile.

What was she planning?

One of her hands flied right into your hair and her fingers twirled your hair around. “I have.” You nodded. “You’re mad or something?”

“I might be,” She shrugged. “But… I am so happy right now. So, I am not giving you what you exactly want.”

When you tried to hug her waist, you felt your hands pulled down to your sides. Her magic. Your breath got caught in your lungs— You were getting excited.

She always knew how to elicit something from you.

“And what do I exactly want, Zee?”

Her fingers in your hair carried themselves to your chin, and she held your face like it was something precious like diamonds. Your eyes were wandering in between her eyes and lips.

“You want me to be mad at you— Mad enough to punish you, maybe.” She pecked your lips. “Not tonight, baby.” Her finger slipped over your lips. “I can’t be mad at you right now, but if you really want me to be mean, I can be.”

“Oh god, Zee…” Your lips caressed her finger tip as you spoke. “I love how well you know me.”

“Can say the same about you.”

You blinked and when you opened your eyes, you were in her bed.

₊⊹ STEPHANIE BROWN: ANGRY

“You did what?” Her shouts made you laugh. You threw your head back into the pillow as you giggled at her. She gently slapped the inside of your thigh. “Stop laughing, this is murder!”

Stephanie averted her eyes from your face and checked your pussy again to understand if she was seeing wrong or not.

She was not having a nightmare. You actually, really shaved your bush.

“No…” She whispered against your now bald skin.

“Steph, it’s not that bad.” You tried to make her look at you but she didn’t look up. “Also, it will grow back.”

“You better keep it.” She pushed herself up and climbed over your body, placing herself right on top of you. Her curls were flowing down and covering your face like a curtain.

“I will, don’t worry.” You rolled your eyes when she lifted one of her brows in disbelief. “I don’t like how it is right now, so I really, really won’t.” When her pout got bigger you grabbed her cheeks. “Steph! I promise, baby.”

“Ugh, fine, fine! But if you butcher your bush again, I will put a sex ban on you.”

You sighed. “That’s fair.”