#I am incredibly inebriated yes

[astraltoon]

if I had the same ability to write fictional stories the same was I can write my entire irl backstory when someone im rly comfortable with Did Not Ask I would be an unstoppable storyteller

alas, adhd

[sunflowersandsapphires]

A Gentle Touch

Installment 1 of The Catlike Tendencies of Matthew Murdock

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: Matt doesn't know how to ask for physical affection.

warnings: none that I can think of!

a/n: long story short this is inspired by my wife’s orange cat. He loves her but only tolerates me most of the time, unless I’m the only one home when he wants attention. However, he doesn’t really know how to cuddle with me since we don’t do it often so he just awkwardly lurks wherever I am until I invite him closer. It happened earlier and I thought it was hilariously Matt-coded so I wrote this. (It’s set in the Of Oak and Ivy verse because I love them, but you don’t need to read that story for this)

w/c: 2.3k

You were absolutely enthralled in the story Foggy was telling when the noise caught you off guard. A small puff of air, sounding almost like a voiceless sigh. Glancing toward Matt who was the closest to you, one look at his stony expression told you it had come from him. He was clearly irritated, despite his face being blank. You’d known him for long enough that you could tell when something was on his mind. 

Maybe he’d heard this story too many times? You leaned more heavily into his arm, which was parallel to yours. 

Turning your attention back to Foggy, you flinched with a laugh as he gestured wildly when concluding his story, spraying beer at you from his mostly full bottle. 

“Geez, Fog. Reaching your limit already?” Matt smirked, his icy exterior fading away as you giggled beside him. 

“He is, he’s all flushed. This is just like that party at the Beta house sophomore year.” You shook your head, looking at Karen with an exasperated expression. “Have they told you the possum story?” 

Smiling gleefully, Karen shook her head. “The possum story?” 

Both Matt and Foggy groaned, protesting and blushing furiously, but Karen was adamant. And who were you to not indulge her?

“In the fall of our second year at Columbia, Matt and Foggy got absolutely plastered on some disgusting concoction of cheap alcohol and Hawaiian Punch,” You began, rolling your eyes as Foggy gagged across from you. 

“God, even the thought of it—“ The blond mime-retched. 

“Yah the smell of Hawaiian Punch still makes me nauseous.” Matt shuddered next to you. 

Karen stifled a giggle as you continued to illustrate just how inebriated you’d found them when you’d come to pick them up. “I was studying and had sat the party out, but offered to drive them home when Fog called me screaming at someone to chug alcohol. I figured they’d both be in no shape to get home.”

“You were correct.” Foggy nodded. 

“I don’t remember anything from that night, but I assume I was the one chugging.” Matt grimaced, laughing sheepishly. 

“So I drove over to the house, somehow got ahold of Matt and managed to convince him to herd Foggy and himself into my car. When they get there, they’re holding this bundle, right? I figured it was dirty clothes or something. But as we were driving home the clothes start hissing.”

“Oh, NO!” Karen cackled, propping herself up on her elbows as she listened to the story. 

“Oh yes. Naturally, I ask Fog what he’s holding and he says ‘my dog’.” 

“We didn’t have a dog,” Matt clarified, looking incredibly guilty. 

“No you did not.” You squeezed his arm, hoping he could hear in your voice that you had no resentment over the incident. “Foggy unwraps the thing a bit and introduces it as ‘Spot’. But instead of a dog,”

“It’s a possum.” Karen finishes for you, nearly in stitches over her coworkers’ mortified faces. 

“An angry one at that. I have no idea where it came from or how they managed to catch it, but there it was.” You shook your head, still amazed at their ability to wrangle the creature while piss-drunk. 

“What happened to it?” Karen asked, and the men erupted. 

“That’s classified.” Foggy stated firmly, lips pressed together. 

“A story for another time,” Matt rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Don’t tell me you killed it!” Karen gasped, whirling to look at the out of them sternly. 

“Of course not! No possums were harmed in the making of this story, just mildly inconvenienced.” You assured her. “They’re just clamming up because they can’t remember whose fault it was that it got loose in the science hall.”

Trailing off into a fit of laughter, Karen was quick to follow you as the two men started arguing, pointing fingers. Sitting back and enjoying the show, you shot Karen knowing glances as Matt and Foggy fought, no real heat behind their words. 

You’d had so much fun that night, reliving one of the funniest moments of your college years, that you’d completely forgotten about the aggravated sound. Until about one month after, when you were sitting next to Matt on a bench in the courthouse. 

The case he and Foggy had been working on was tedious and full of metaphorical landmines that threatened to ruin any shot your client had at escaping her abusive husband. The entire firm had been on edge, struggling to keep everything in order. Given your lack of steady employment at the moment, you’d been helping out wherever you could, and had been working this case from day one, right alongside Matt. Which is how you’d ended up beside him rather than Foggy. 

The blond had flown out of town a few days before to attend an extended family reunion, leaving the rest of you to man the fort, so to speak. Usually, that wouldn’t be an issue, but Matt had been increasingly temperamental leading up to the ex parte hearing. His normal reserved demeanor had rapidly been replaced by a moody, antagonistic version of him–driving poor Karen to her wit’s end. 

After Matt had incited a screaming match over a spilled cup of coffee, you’d told her to take her lunch early, giving her a couple hours where she didn’t need to walk on eggshells. The plan seemed to be working so far, Matt responding with less hostility to your persistent support rather than Karen’s eager suggestions for an aggressive approach. Something about this case had rubbed Matt the wrong way. His invisible hackles were standing on end, posture almost bristling as he sat beside you, twisting a white-knuckled fist around his cane. And, though you understood why Karen was pushing for another solution, you agreed with Matt that this needed to be handled quickly and quietly. 

Scowling at the floor, Matt’s joints rolled beneath the delicate skin of his hands. His jaw was clenched, shoulders curled inward, as if he expected the judge to request a fist fight to grant the protection order. Christ, that could not be comfortable.

Carefully, slow enough to not spook him when he was in this state, you slid the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand. Prying his firm grip off the handle of his cane, you cradled his massive, calloused hand in your lap. He visibly relaxed at the touch, twisting to face you as you traced gentle patterns over his skin, careful to avoid the line of freshly healed cuts on his knuckles. Your curiosity would have to wait for now. There was no way he was in the mood to explain those.

A breathy rumble sounded in his throat, akin to a sigh but less obvious. The same noise he’d made all those days ago at Josie’s–the quiet indication that something wasn’t right. 

Bottom lip jutting out in sympathy, you squeezed his fingers with your own. “It’ll be ok, Matty.” 

He swallowed roughly, hazel eyes darting around behind his red lenses. You could practically see the thoughts forming in his mind before he buried them, the stress forcing him back into bad habits. Sweeping your fingers over his wrist, you studied him, satisfaction thrumming in your chest when his breath hitched. “Hey, talk to me, trouble. What are you thinking?”

“It’s not going to go well.” His voice was pitched low, angry, but there was a brief undercurrent of fear within it. 

“We don’t know that.” You chastised lightly, knowing this pessimistic streak was a coping mechanism and not confirmation he’d become a nihilist. 

“I can feel it. Can’t you feel it? It’s like every officer is laughing at us. We’ve already lost.” Watching Matt, the perpetual optimist, crumble at the thought of things not going the way you’d planned nearly broke your heart. 

“Oh trouble, don’t say that.” Threading your fingers with his, you knocked your knees together. “It’ll be ok. Even if the judge doesn’t grant the order today, we won’t stop trying, right?”

“No but she needs legal protection now. Truthfully, she needs an armed guard.” Matt spoke bitterly.

“We can get her temporary protection.” You suggested.

“They’d never grant that for a simple DV case. Besides, those are his coworkers. Do you really trust them to keep her safe from him?” Matt scoffed, raising a brow at you. 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you jabbed your pinky into the flesh of his palm. “I wasn’t suggesting we go to the police, Matthew. You and I both know how little good that would do.”

Deflating as he realized you weren’t being as naive as he suspected, Matt frowned. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not everyone knows the flaws in the system.” You reassured him. “But I do. To some extent, at least.”

He hummed in agreement, but said nothing. 

“What’s really bothering you?” At your insistent question, Matt’s face flashed with rage, his spine straightening as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but you held fast. “Don’t you dare, trouble. Please, talk to me. It’s eating you away, I can’t sit here and let that happen.” 

Sighing harshly, Matt ran a hand over his face. “I just..this case feels different. I don’t know why. But if we can’t help her…”

“All we can do is try our best.” You reminded him. 

He let out a single humorless laugh. “I suppose that’s true.” 

When you let his hand drop, he made that pitiful, choked noise again. 

“What?” You asked, slightly worried. 

“Nothing. Just tired.” He lied, wrapping his hand back around the handle of his cane.

It was only once you were truly together that you realized what that specific sound was meant to signify. 

Since you’d officially started dating, or rather labeling whatever you two had as a relationship instead of dancing around each other, that stupid noise had cemented itself in your life. It seemed like Matt was making it every damn day and it was driving you up a wall. 

Not because Matt wasn’t entitled to his feelings or to expressing said feelings. But because your brain registered that the sound had a specific meaning, and you could not for the life of you translate it from a mere Matt-ism into a language you actually understood. Every little quirk and charm about Matt inherently made sense to you, they always had. Yet this little growling exhale seemed out of your reach. Not to mention, anytime you tried to ask him what was up, he shut down faster than a computer chip dunked in pool water.

Sitting on his couch as he typed on his laptop, he snarled out that sound, eyes darting towards you and away before you could blink. Brows furrowing, you peered at him over the top edge of your book. A muscle in his cheek twitched, a blaring omen that he was holding himself back from saying something. 

“You ok?” You asked, nose scrunching as Matt brushed off your concern. 

“Yep. Hungry.” He grumbled. 

One word answers. Great start. Really breaking down his walls there, champ. 

“Oh, gotcha. I’ll order something. Have a taste for anything in particular?” Setting your book across your thighs, you opened up a delivery app on your phone. 

“No.” 

“Okay...” You drawled, stifling an eye roll at his grouchiness. “How about that Lebanese place we liked?” 

Receiving nothing but a thumbs up in response, you submit an order before Matt reached another stage of hangriness. 

Once Matt had eaten half of his shawarma, he was more agreeable. Smiling and chuckling sweetly as you read him cheesy snippets of your romance novel. Crawling across the couch until you were seated beside him, you stretched over his lap to snatch a piece of pita bread for your plate of hummus. Matt blew out a breath, tickling your ear as he grunted. Now that you were close, you could hear the shrill, whimpering undertone. Hidden, nearly silent, as if the growl was to compensate for the whine, to conceal it. 

Craning your neck towards him, you planted your free hand on your hip. 

“Alright. Out with it.” 

“Out with what?” Matt gave his best ‘befuddled’ impression, but you saw past his feigned innocence. 

Snorting, you prodded his firm chest. As your finger connected with his solid pec, he whimpered again, this time almost moaning. Something clicked. 

“Matthew Michael Murdock,” You gasped. “You are not making that sound instead of asking to cuddle.” 

Blushing furiously, Matt dipped his head, ashamed–though he made no attempt to deny the allegation.

Laughing incredulously, you tossed your plate aside and settled into Matt’s lap, threading a hand into his hair. “You are a ridiculous man.”

Matt rumbled happily, leaning into the touch until his head landed against your chest. Clutching his face between your palms, you trailed soft touches over his cheeks, around his ears–scratching tenderly down his neck when he practically melted beneath your fingertips.

“You could’ve told me that’s what you wanted, all this time…” Shaking your head, you planted a kiss atop his thick hair. “Why suffer in silence?”

“Didn’t want to force you. It’s been different. Since..everything.” 

Snuggling in close, you maneuvered his chin with two fingers, kissing him deeply. His stubble brushed over your skin roughly, making you smile. “You can always always ask, trouble. No need to be a martyr with me.”

“Sorry,” Matt murmured against your lips, chasing your mouth with a mournful noise as you pulled away. 

“Don’t be sorry. Now come here.” Tugging him on top of you, you laughed brightly as he squirmed over you, finally relaxed when his face was tucked against your neck. “That’s it. Better?” 

“Much better.” He whispered, going limp under your touch as your fingers stroked up his back.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @shouldbestudying41

[pfhwrittes]

inspired by @femalefemur’s post and my tags: 

#johnny sends this to his transmasc partner post top surgery #no one can change my mind on this #he's so used to you calling your tits your tits that he's adopted it #so when you send him “im fcukin bobless babbbyy” while still fighting off anaesthetic he absolutely cracks up #just completely loses it #and he has to show gaz the messages to explain why he's laughing so hard #gaz's eyebrows shoot up his forehead and god that's even funnier to johnny for some reason so he can barely breathe when he sends back - #- “thats braw handsome” and he can tell you're probably squinting SO hard at your messages from the way the dots indicating you're typing - #- keep popping up and disappearing over and over #eventually you just send him a blurry selfie of your loopy grin and part of the hospital gown #with a “lvoe uu” #jm #sorry cyn i have no idea where that spark of inspiration came from #and i probably should've put it in its own post instead of the tags #but here we are now #ily!

and @syoddeye’s reply: 

@/pfhwrittes thank you for the notes fic, fucking adore it. definitely loses his shit when his partner, still woozy, smiles all dorky “I got my toys off AND a boyfriend?? wow…love it here.”

pairing: john mactavish x transmasc!reader

500ish of barely edited words below the cut.

warnings: post-surgical procedure inebriation, references to surgical procedure (top surgery), fluff. 

–

your head feels both light as air and heavier than your parent’s disappointed gaze when the lovely nurse smiles at you and kindly informs you that “your boyfriend and friend will be coming in to see you, sweetheart.” 

you think you blink and sigh softly in response. 

wow, no tits and two boyfriends? this place is great!

two rumbling laughs cause your eyes to flutter open and you’re already beaming as two beautiful and familiar faces swim into view from the end of the incredibly comfortable bed you’re laying on. 

“oh mate, you’re well out of it, aren’t ya?” 

oh he’s so pretty! so smiley and pretty!

there’s another laugh, this one closer and your head swivels, bobbles, rolls, as you look down at a large warm hand holding your own. you blearily follow the hand, up past the faded inky shield and sword tattoo, to gaze into the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“j’nny!” you beam, utterly delighted by the way his eyes crinkle warmly and the hand squeezes your own slightly. 

“‘m here, my braw, bonnie lad.” 

another warm hand reaches over from the other side of the bed to hold your free hand, mindful of the large white dressing on the back, and you’re dazzled by the smooth brown skin. 

kyle’s holding my hand!

“yep, sure am, mate.” kyle’s voice shakes with barely restrained laughter. 

it’s like looking into the sun, so warm and pretty. 

your eyes drift closed again as you hear johnny and kyle talk softly over your reclined form. 

–

some time later, you’re not sure how long exactly but the light from the window in your room has gone soft and golden, your eyes slowly blink open. your mouth feels dry and tacky, and you can hear the muted sounds of two animated siblings squabbling on the tv in the corner of the room. 

“-think of him more as a large brother. no offence.”

“yes, offence!”

you blink woozily as a callused palm smooths your sweaty hair away from your temple. 

“how’re ye feelin’ now handsome boy?” johnny asks gently. 

you nuzzle into his palm and grumble weakly. 

“aye, prob’ly a wee bit thirsty, hm?” 

you nod your head slowly, still feeling like you’ve been stuffed full of cotton, and feel the way the motion pulls oddly at the lump of white stretchy fabric on your chest. you drop your chin to stare at the smooth flat shape that makes up the surgical binder. 

slowly, you lift your head to gaze wide eyed and delighted at johnny before flicking your eyes over to kyle who has been watching you carefully from the slightly more comfortable chair in the corner of the room. 

“alright mate?” kyle asks carefully. 

you beam. 

“i‘m fuckin’ awesome.” 

–

three slightly wet sounding laughs fill the room as the nurse shuffles in, a large jug of water in one hand and a tiny paper cup of pills in the other. she takes a moment to smile to herself, unnoticed by her patient and the two handsome men radiating pride and love that are with him. 

the lucky devil.

[cocomochicakes]

FIRST (F!Tav x Rolan)

A/N:: So I decided the Tieflings of this game don't get enough love so here you have pure, unadulterated PWP.

(And if you wish to be tagged for updates, please comment below!)

WORD COUNT: 13,913

RATINGS: E

WARNINGS: Adult language, Crude Humor, Explicit Sexual Content

PAIRINGS: Rolan x F!Tav

SPECIAL TAGS: @themeghanlodon @mushi42

READ ON AO3

SUMMARY: It's been three years since the Great Mindflayer Invasion in Baldur's Gate and though the companions have all gone their separate ways, Tav remains in the Gate working as a traveling alchemist who studies magical plants and their uses for potions all while getting closer to a certain grumpy Archwizard. When a normal night at Elfsong becomes heated, Tav and Rolan become closer than they thought.

Elfsong Tavern is in full bloom as dusk turns to twilight and the patrons of Baldur’s Gate fill the hall with their grand stories of adventures both inside beyond the gate. A bard strums his lute and plays for patrons, his song among the chaotic din of clattering plates, tinking glasses, and the laughter and merriment from many an adventurer. Off in a far corner seated in an alcove upon a plush set of chairs Rolan and you are seated. It’s been 3 years since the fall of the Netherbrain and the reconstruction of Baldur’s Gate back to its former glory. After your companions had departed to the next steps of their own journey and you decided to remain in the Gate and settle into a life as an alchemist and apothecary with the knowledge gained from many of your travels. Tonight was like any other end to a tenday for both you and Rolan as you had often been contracted by him to bring him ingredients for spells and research and tonight you had suggested the two of you indulge in an evening away from work after a week filled with absolute mayhem within Sorcerous Sundries.

Rolan seems to be distracted as you tap your tankard to his, hoping to get his attention. “Oh forgive me, I got distracted. What were you saying again?” his voice is alert and attended to your presence finally. You smirk at him and tease, “you were just about to compliment my fantastic self on how incredible I am for all the merchandise I was able to deliver on such short notice.” You got up from your seat momentarily to do a small twirl and pose as a mighty hero before sitting back into your chair.

Rolan chuckles at your antics. He’s grown over the years to be a tad soft though most people see the Archmage of Ramazith Tower as quite stoic and grumpy at times, though if anyone knew the truth, they most likely would never believe it. He smiles at you setting his drink down before leaning in on his hand. "I was indeed. I simply can't help myself when confronted with such beauty and grandeur as yourself," he replies.

You know he’s playfully teasing you as he always seems to. “But aren't I? I am grand and wonderful and you are blessed to know such a magnificent woman as me.” Your words are light and you gesticulate how incredible you are with a twirl and sway of your tankard before taking a deep swig. Rolan can’t help but laugh at your now most likely inebriated antics. "Yes... Yes, you are indeed grand and wonderful. I do feel quite blessed to be in your presence, oh great one..." he says with a sly smile.

Your gaze meets his and there’s a palpable energy between the two of you and you know the alcohol is taking effect as your banter begins to get more flirtatious between shy glances. “Hmm and because I am so grand, I feel like I should give you a reward.” Your voice is like honey to him and he sees you lean in close to him from across the small round table. The alcohol is definitely taking effect as Rolan doesn't seem to be aware of the intimate situation he has found himself in "And what sort of reward would that be, oh great and wondrous one? You have my complete attention," he asks, leaning in slightly with a flirtatious glance and another sly smile.

An eyebrow lifts and you walk your fingers up one of his arms before bringing a hand to his chest as you lean close to his ear. “What kind would you like?”

Rolan shivers at the touch, biting his lip as his eyes look up at you in surprise. Your touch is foreign to him outside of the occasional brush of hands but it stirs something within him, a false sense of bravado to which spurs more banter. "I wouldn't want to presume," he says softly. "I am but a humble creature in comparison to your greatness. But for you, I am at your mercy. Any sort of reward would be a pleasure."

You smirk and slot yourself between his legs as he sits on the stool and towers over you and he blushes deeply, breathing rapidly as he finds himself in a new and unexpected position.

 "And... And what do you plan to do here? Oh wonderful one?" He glances around the room, noticing only a few other patrons who take notice of the sight unfurling in a corner of the room but then quickly look away and resume their own conversations.

You bring yourself close to his lips to where you can almost taste the alcohol in his small, unsteady breaths. “Perhaps a kiss would suffice?” you say without a hint of hesitation, your eyes looking between his and his slightly parted lips.

He swallows hard, eyes glancing between your lips and eyes, and leans in closer. "Perhaps... But I could not possibly..." He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The alcohol is clouding his judgement and his body feels suddenly warm as he leans forward even further, his lips just millimeters from yours. You can feel his breath on your lips as he hesitates. The air and din around you still.

You feel his hesitance, his reluctance and push it from your mind, closing the gap between your mouths to place a small, soft, gentle kiss on his lips before parting. The kiss is short but sweet, leaving an instant impact on Rolan's brain, muddling any thoughts he had in that moment. His lips begin to feel warm and his heart starts beating wildly, his breath coming in sharp, quick gasps. He glances up at you with wide eyes, his lips still parted slightly from the kiss. Awe.

You smile at him I think that is a perfect reward to bestow.

Rolan seems overwhelmed by the feeling the kiss left behind. His breath still coming in quick gasps, as he can't seem to control it. The warmth in his lips is still present, and his eyes are wide and shining "That was... amazing," he finally says softly, his words barely perceptible to your ears through the din of the tavern.

You glance down shyly and look back up to him. “We could....do it again.”

He’s looking at you with a longing gaze, biting his lip softly as he nods "Yes... Yes, I think we should. Just... Just once more." He looks around again, ensuring no one else is looking before pushing the small table between you slightly forward, inching ever so slightly closer, his warmth radiating into your vicinity. He meets your lips this time and again the kiss is soft and sweet before he parts with you. Your gaze is half-lidded and wandering to his. It stirs a beating in your heart, sending it racing inside your chest.

The second kiss is every bit as good as the first, leaving Rolan wanting for more. His lips are still parted slightly from the kiss, his eyes half-lidded with a dreamy gaze as he takes in the sight of you before him. He glances around the room one last time before leaning forward again, this time more bold, and initiating a third kiss however this time, his kiss is more passionate. His arms wrap around your body in a tight embrace, pulling you close. The kiss becomes increasingly more passionate, leaving Rolan dizzy with both pleasure and surprise as his tongue and lips slide against yours. His breathing is shallow and quick into the kiss, and his heart is racing like a whirlwind as his mouth opens further to allow your tongue to slide with grace against his. He’s slowly losing control of himself and his desire as he kisses.

You moan into his mouth as you feel every movement of his tongue and lips against yours. It’s euphoria, pure bliss where your mind is blank. Tabula Rasa. Rolan moans softly in response, his mouth opening fully as he gives in to the sensation. Your tongues are dancing eagerly and every motion of yours seems to send ripples of pleasure through his body and leaving his hand desperately grasping at your back. You slowly part from one another, your chests heaving as you gaze into one another's eyes, your lips both swollen and flushed. He stares at you, the feeling still washing over him as he feels completely and utterly enraptured. In that moment, Rolan sees only you. He breaths deep, his mouth still feeling warm and tingly from the kiss. He looks down at your lips, eyes still longing and yearning for another taste of them mingled with drink on his tongue.

In your haze, you forgotten you are in public until you hear a whistle come from across the room paired with a few catcalls. Your face flushes. Rolan looks up from you and glances around the room, realizing where the both of you are. His blush deepens as people's eyes are looking over at the two of you, clearly having witnessed the very-heated kiss between the two of you. He glances back down at you with a sheepish smile and shakes his head. "Perhaps a bit too much for a public place, eh?" his voice carries a hint of embarrassment for what has just transpired between you two.

You laugh in return at the awkward situation you’ve found yourself in. “Probably not the place to be giving this kind of show I suppose…” your voice trails off as you cast your gaze to the side. Rolan chuckles in response to your comment, his cheeks still flushed and his lips still feeling warm from the kiss. "I'm not sure there's a place for this kind of show at all," he replies playfully. "It would require a private room and a proper bed."

Your eyes go wide and your whole body flushes in disbelief that mentioned a private room and bed and perhaps just implied he wishes to sleep with you. He notices the sudden change in your demeanor, and his eyebrows raise in curiosity as he glances down at you, quickly realizing exactly what he just said. He tries to play it off, his gaze going up and down your figure and flitting about the tavern in panic.  "I wasn't... I was... well, not joking, but..." He trails off, he says, clearly embarrassed at his accidental slip of tongue, tucking his top lip between his teeth in shame.

Your face is bright red and your heart is hammering out of your chest and you say something that you believe may be the result of a bit too much alcohol:

“Unless...you want to...”

Unless you want to.

Rolan's eyes go wide while he processes your words to their entirety. Unless you want to. Though you seem to follow up on his joke, everything suddenly stops feeling so playful. His heart begins to beat wildly, and he struggles to respond to what you said. His head is spinning, repeating your words again and again, his gaze is blank as he stares at you.

He finally seems to snap out of his panic, takes a deep breath and speaks though he can barely get the words past his lips. "A-Are... Are you suggesting..." He pauses again, swallowing hard and unable to meet your eyes. This surely can’t be what he thinks it is…can it?

You bashfully look down and your hands are playing with the hem of your blouse, twiddling a stray thread between your fingers. ”I mean...if you wanted to...I wouldn't say no to it. Bedding me that is.”

Your eyes glance up from your sleeve to quickly meet his before returning to the thread on your sleeve. Rolan's eyes snap up to you, his heart hammering so hard he can feel it shaking the wall of his chest. His mind seizes. You want him to bed you? Him. You. Bed. Touching. Sex. His tongue lays heavy in his mouth and he can barely get out a single sound.

 "I... I..." He pauses. No words seem to come to him strong enough to defy his tongue, so he simply nods his head in your direction and makes a small sound of agreement.

You note his inability to speak and the way his eyes are wide and jaw has slacked. To break the tension, you take a swig of your drink and clear your throat starting to believe that perhaps he doesn’t truly see you the way you had originally assumed.

 “Unless you don't want to but I'm just offering...I quite fancy you, Rolan. I think you're grand and enjoy when we meet up like this. And...I've always wondered what it would be like...with you.” Your eyes are softly gazing at him, your cheeks flushed. It’s embarrassing and exciting all at once, your heart is beating almost in your ears and your stomach is filled with butterflies hoping he does indeed feel the same way.

Rolan's breath catches in his throat, so overwhelmed by your words and the offer that he feels unable to respond. His cheeks are still flushed with the blush that is starting to fill his face and he can’t bear to make eye contact with you for fear he might combust. He opens his mouth to finally respond, but again he finds no words. Instead he just nods his head once again, nodding furiously and saying yes to you, before he finally has the courage to bring his eyes up, never letting his gaze leave yours.

You chuckle and cast a coy gaze at him. The man with so many words is speechless for once. “Then if you'd like...we can go back to my place and...get comfortable.” It’s an offer you’ve wanted to ask him time and time again but never had the courage to do and a part of you is thanking the bit of alcohol you’ve had tonight for helping you be able to speak the words that have been mulling in your head for months.

His face continues to glow red with embarrassment, as he feels like he has been utterly disarmed by your words and your offer. Yet, a smile creeps onto his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. "Y-Yes... I think I would very much like that." You feel your heart soar and the butterflies in your stomach rise into your throat as you realize that perhaps he does indeed see you the way you see him.

“Then let us head to my apartment. It's not far from here.”

Your words are more confident sounding than you currently feel in asking a man back to your abode. You glance to him and Rolan nods his head once again, feeling his heart beating wildly and his breath coming in short gasps as he realizes this is all really happening, that you’re intending to do more than simply spend an evening in your apartment together playing cards. The flirtation and the passion between you and him that has existed for months was all finally culminating to the moment he wanted so badly, one he would never admit he had quite literally dreamed of to some much embarrassing results. He stands from his seat, reaching out his hand to you, his tail flitting nervously behind him. A slight laugh escapes your lips as you grab his hand and lead him from the tavern, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from behind the both of you.

Rolan doesn't care about the catcalls and whistles either. He feels too caught up in the moment; too caught up in the anticipation and excitement of what's to come. You hold his hand as you lead him along the street to your apartment, neither one of you saying a word as you walk between drunken citizens singing sea shanties and other citizens from the Lower City.

When you arrive, you unlock the door and take off your shoes in your quaint entry. It's a small studio apartment on the top floor with a window garden and bookcases lining the walls filled with books that overlooks the street below and has a grand view of the night sky and ocean. He glances around taking in the sight of your apartment and notes how cozy it is filled with plants and books of all kinds.

Rolan follows you inside, taking a closer look at the various pots and climbing flowering plants that adorn a small table and the copious amount of well-read books littered about in stacks. The apartment is surprisingly comfortable, making him feel more at ease than he has the whole night. He notes to himself that your abode is very much like what he had always guessed it would look like. His eyes scan the titles before he looks over at you, smiling softly at the sight of you inside your own home for the first time.

“I know it’s not much...but when you travel as much as me, you don't need a lot.”

Rolan gives a modest laugh as you finish your sentence, he nods, and then looks around a bit more. The book collections, the plants, the apartment itself all shows an interesting side of you that he has not yet seen but one he always imagined. Once again his gaze meets yours, and he can't help but smile "I think your place is... it's wonderful. It's a nice home."

“I'm glad you like it. Would you like some tea? You're unsure how one is to begin this sort of thing with a man.”

You tuck your hands behind your back waiting for his response. The moment of hesitation gives Rolan a moment to gather himself slightly, his breath once again coming in short bursts as he stares openly at you. He nods his head, not quite able to take his eyes off of you. "Tea would be... wonderful, I think."

Rolan watches as you put on a kettle and grab a jar filled with a peculiar bright flower. It’s a rare floral tea you obtained from your trip to Chult on an expedition the previous year. It's fragrant, soft, inviting.

He smiles quietly as the scent of the flowery tea fills the room.. He can't help but sniff the air and let it fill his lungs. The scent is inviting and relaxing, much like a fresh rain upon flowers, and makes him feel at ease again after the rush of emotions from earlier. He glances around the room again, a soft grin spread over his face, as he waits patiently for the tea to brew and walks to your small table.

As you pour the tea for the both of you, Rolan notices a book left open on the table next to a small bag of yours. His eye catches your book on the table, and he glances over to it nervously, wondering if he should be prying into something that could be private. He hesitates briefly, but then he is unable to resist the temptation of reading. It was only out in the open after all. He steps closer to the table, and glances over at it curiously.

It's your journal and in it, you have been documenting a variety of flowers and herbs along with sporadic notes, which appear to be the titles of books.

As he glances down at your journal, his eyes linger briefly on the title written at the top. "Field Study of Plants and Herbs." He looks down and sees that each page contains various notes and studies you've made from your travels. He smiles softly, looking up to you. "Are these from your travels?" He asks softly, the journal's cover close to his face now.

You smile and set down the cups of tea as you sit with him. “Yes...I've come to find many of the plants I've worked with have properties of not only healing, but also as potent poisons. Some even require a source of magic to grow...I've been working to document them for future potions. Most of which you yourself have seen when I come into Sorcerous Sundries.”

The journal contains so much information from your travels, and Rolan is in awe of the detail of your notes and studies. From the way you describe the plants, it seems like you've done a lot of experimentation and research on them even down to the most minute of details. "That's amazing, I had no idea the plants and herbs in these regions would have such properties,” he dexterously flips a page and scans another, “Are they found in many places?". He briefly sets the book down and grabs the tea you have gifted him, taking a slow sip and savoring the delicate taste.

“Unfortunately not...most require specific circumstances to thrive and maintain their magical properties. Some species are elusive and only found in the most difficult places to reach. However, that's what makes my work rewarding. Being the first to find them and make use of their properties.” You take a seat at the table and smile fondly as he admires your work.

Rolan smiles back at you, your passion and determination for your field making him feel a wave of admiration for you. You seem like the type of person that would seek out the impossible, and do what others couldn't. He takes another sip of his tea and sits down next to you, tucking his tail around the leg of the chair. "That's very admirable. I doubt many people could be able to say they've done what you have in the pursuit of knowledge and magic."

You blush and grasp your tea with both hands, tucking your knees to your chest. “It's the nature of being an alchemist I suppose. I just...I want to learn all I can so at least someone can make use of it.” You gaze wanders to the farside of the room where an alchemical elixir is currently distilling amongst a menagerie of glass vials, tubes, and beakers.

Rolan follows your gaze over to the far side of the room, taking in the sight of the various bottles and potions that litter the table. His eyes linger on the elixir, as he watches the liquids inside it change as it brews "Is that another potion you're making? Its color is very different from anything I've seen before" he chimes, his curiosity piqued by your setup.

“It is,” your voice is confident and warm, “I'm working on a substance which can be used to reduce magical sickness in those who can't appropriately expel the Weave from their body or who end up taking on too much of it. Namely for young Wizards and Sorcerers in training. It's made with Sussur bark I obtained in the Underdark. Would you like to see?”

You take a sip of your tea and tilt your head as you ask him the question. Rolan turns in his seat, his eyes darting towards the bottle of the brewing potion. He leans closer from his chair as he can't help but stare at the liquid inside it, fascinated by the change it goes through. "Would I like to see? I would be thrilled."

You set your tea down, get up and he follows you over to your alchemy table and you grab a small vial of prepared liquid. It shimmers and glows when the vial is turned, briefly emitting a shimmering blue hue that illuminates the vial as the liquid tosses and swishes inside. “This is the purest form of Sussur extract. Upon ingestion, it can almost completely eliminate the ability for one to use magic. It could be used defensively or for medicinal purposes. Think about the children who are practicing magic and intake too much of the Weave, causing severe illness. Being a wizard I’m sure you perhaps have had a few magical mishaps yourself. It could solve the problem with a single drop.” Your eyes glow beneath the agitated liquid, a sense of wonder and awe at the concoction you’ve managed to synthesize.

Rolan leans forward to get a closer look at the liquid you hold between two fingers, the glow it emits mesmerizing him. He stares openly and in awe as you describe the effects of it - even more so at the concept of people who can't properly manage their use of magic. He turns his attention back to the liquid and gives it a cautious experimental sniff as you remove the lid - it smells strangely sweet, like honey.

“Sweet isn't it?” You reinsert the cork before explaining its origins further. “It's a beautiful, mesmerizing flowering tree but very dangerous to get to as many creatures call its roots home. As you near it, it also completely dulls your ability to use magic so the only way to get it is with your bare hands and a sword.

Rolan nods his head in admiration. Your knowledge is something to be marveled at and he begins to wonder how you managed to attain it to begin with.

“This Sussur extract is certainly unique,” he says, admiring the small vial, "I'm starting to think the entire Underdark is built to be as hazardous as possible to outsiders."

You smile mischievously, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh indeed it is. The denizens aren't exactly...friendly to humans like myself. I don a drow disguise much of the time I'm down there. Pays to look the part for safety you know?”

Rolan's eyes light up at the mention of drow disguise "You disguise yourself as a drow? How do you even manage that? Doesn't that mean dressing up as a drow and speaking Common with a drow accent, all while trying not to betray the fact that you're not an actual drow?"

You chuckle at his idea. “Sort of. I can't cast much magic but I do know…” your words cut off as you wave your hands and utter a phrase and before his eyes stands the image of a female Lolth-sword Drow “..Disguise Self. Handy isn't it?”

His eyes widen and his mouth opens slightly as he takes in the illusion before him. He stares in awe at the drow's attire, her features. It really is a flawless disguise. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks slightly as he stares. He clears his throat and glances back up at you as you do a small twirl with a curtsy at the end.

"That... I can't even put it in words how convincing that is. I've always heard Drow have an eerie beauty to them, but I've never actually met one."

You do another twirl, much slower this time. “Surprisingly neither have I. At least a live one anyway.”

Rolan watches you twirl, his heart racing for a moment. He is very intrigued by you in this moment, your appearance and overall aura just making him feel... something strange. You're like an enigma and it only makes him want to know more about you. He smiles "So you've never actually met a live Drow? As in…you’ve seen dead ones?"

You dispel Disguise Self as you speak. “No, not a live one. I've come across the corpses of male Drow routinely and many Duegar and Deep Gnomes but never a living Drow. Most reside in Menzoberranzan and I tend to steer clear of the area lest I be caught. My disguise can only go so far,” your tone is serious but he is intrigued by even the notion that you’ve wandered the Underdark alone.

"Menzoberranzan, the city of spiders. I've heard of it, and I too would avoid that area if I could. The Drow have a very well-earned reputation for being evil and ruthless" Rolan says, clearly fascinated with your experiences.

You hum, placing the vile down as you lean on your desk. “I think this is partially true. They are a matriarchal society who uses men as breeding stock and only allows 2 sons per family. They sacrifice any more than that, deeming them a waste of resources. I've come to learn that these sons, or even adult male Drow who disobey their Houses, may be sacrificed to Lolth herself and become monstrosities. However, there are Seladrine Drow that I've heard of, peaceful drow that wish to be accepted by those above and who do not share the evil inclinations of their Lolth-sworn cousins. I’ve even heard rumors there are two who sell their intimate services at Sharess’ Caress from a few adventurers.”

A moment of hesitation precedes his next question as he processes the facts you’ve stated. "Do you know why a society like that even exists? Why they follow Lolth so devoutly?"

Again you hum in response before explaining, “Most people don't. The only reason I know is because there are rumors that the legendary Drizzt Do’Urden is a Seladrine.”

He nods his head "I've heard the tales of Drizzt and the heroic exploits. If there are truly Drow that possess these traits, how do they fare in the Underdark among their more aggressive race? Wouldn't they be looked down upon as outcasts?"

“Precisely. Which is why I ensure my eyes are red when I travel to gather supplies in the Underdark. Red eyes are a hallmark of Lolth-sworn Drow.”

Your explanation makes absolute sense. The Underdark has proven to be an unforgiving environment, one that does not tolerate any weakness or kindness. Those that do possess these traits, like the Seladrine drow, must either adapt or pretend to be cruel or be killed by others for their weakness. It makes sense then that they would blend in with the other Drow to stay alive.

“Hence why this bark and extract are so precious...many die trying to get it.” Your gaze turns somber for a moment and Rolan notes that you probably knew many alchemists and apothecaries who lost their lives attempting to get it.

"That extract and the bark from the tree itself must be incredibly rare, and I'm sure it can be used for a number of purposes. It's no wonder your research is so important - I can't imagine the amount of lives you would save in just making such a small amount of this extract. I can understand now why you travel and risk so much." His voice is soft, almost reverent as he speaks.

It brings a smile to your lips that he understands the magnitude of your work. “I find the rarest of plants and bring their essences back to this humble abode to synthesize the best potions, elixirs, and tinctures money can buy. Many of which you yourself have handled and are the first to see in use.”

Rolan stares at you, listening intently as you enter your passionate explanation. You seem so... happy. Your passion and energy is evident as you speak about your work and the ingredients you find and he is honored to learn you entrusted him with some of the first potions of their kind for study and use. He smiles back at you, tail swaying contently, admiring your charisma and devotion to your field. "Your work is astounding, the sheer amount of patience and dedication must be immense."

You smile at him brightly. “It's no different than yours researching magic and magical items, creating scrolls, finding new methods to manifest the Weave. My area just involves plants.”

Rolan chuckles at your reply "You make it sound so trivial. Your work involves hunting down the most dangerous ingredients you can find, risking your life in such a hostile environment that is so far beneath the comfort of civilization. I merely sit and read scrolls and research ancient texts; my work is far less taxing and exhausting than yours."

“You make me sound like a hero...I'm none of that. I just enjoy the rush of it all.”

Rolan shakes his head and smiles. "That is the exact reason why I say you are, in fact, a hero. You put your life on the line when you could just as easily go into a less dangerous and hostile profession that pays the same. But that's not what you desire - you need a challenge, a rush. You are like a thrill seeker, chasing the excitement and adventure that comes with your work and I am honored to be witness to many of your creations."

You blush as he gets closer to you. His words feel more meaningful than any compliment you’ve ever received as his words are not simply those of admiration but respect for your passion.

You can't help but feel the heat of your blush as it paints your cheeks, your gaze cast shyly away from Rolan as he steps closer to you. Your reaction is so adorable and endearing to him that he feels himself beginning to blush as well. Your eyes meet his and the two of you just stare at one another, the silence only becoming louder as the heat intensifies. The only noise is the pounding of your heart in your chest.

“Rolan...I think you sell yourself short on what you do. I think what you do is fascinating.”

Your eyes linger on each other, neither of you able to break away in some kind of awkward yet heated stalemate. The silence is palpable, and the heat rising between your bodies is intense as neither one of you can keep our eyes off each other. You comment makes the heat rise even more in his cheeks and he feels himself becoming more flustered and self-aware of the situation at hand. He nods his head slightly, not knowing what else to say. Finally, he musters up the courage to speak, as his eyes dart from your lips to your eyes "You really think so?"

“I do,” you grab his hands, “You've done so much for this city with your research and skills. Not to mention how you took over three years ago. I find it rather impressive…”

Your hand feels so soft in his and the touch of you feels like electricity - sending a shiver down his spine. He smiles bashfully at you, unable to hide how flustered he is. He clears his throat and nods his head "I've never done it for the purpose of the city's benefit. I've simply worked to further my magical knowledge. And..." he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as they look away, "I've never actually had anyone praise me so much before."

You're staring up at him through soft eyes. “A pity...you deserve more.”

His breath catches in his throat for a moment, the feeling of your soft gaze making him feel nervous and excited at the same time. He looks down at you again, your smiling face catching him off guard. He's never felt this strongly towards someone else before. He finally responds, trying to remain as composed as he can. "Perhaps you are right about me selling myself short, but I could say the same about you. Your talents and dedication deserve recognition."

“I don't do it for the recognition...I do it because it makes me happy you know?”

Rolan smiles, finding that he understands you completely. He nods his head in agreement "I know...I think a lot of people would be shocked to know that's why I do what I do. I could sit and read magical texts and scrolls all day and not be bothered by it in the slightest. I enjoy researching magic. It makes me feel excited, thrilled, and it gives me a purpose. I think more people need to follow their passions like you and I do. That way... a lot of people wouldn't be so unhappy."

“I agree. I love discovering new things, it only for the sake of knowledge.”

Rolan listens to every word you say, nodding his head. You seem so passionate about your work, as a researcher. “That is certainly something you and I have in common” he says, heat rising in his cheeks. He smiles at you before elaborating, "I think the two of us are very similar. We both strive to gain knowledge, to understand something new and unknown to us. I suppose that's why we get along so well..."

You blush as you lean against his chest and hug him. “I suppose that is…”

Your words trail off softly as you feel your chest against his. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer. Your body is like a furnace and his heart is pounding loudly. He's never felt like this before - so nervous and excited all at once. Rolan looks down at you as your bodies touch, your soft body and beautiful face the only things occupying his mind right now. He wants to stay like this forever.

“Rolan...what I said earlier. I really do fancy you a lot.”

He freezes mid-sentence as you speak, feeling you tuck yourself into his chest further. He's been waiting for these words, dying to hear them from you. He wants to believe you mean them, that they're genuine. You tilt your head up away from his chest and he stares into your eyes, which seem to have a spell on them that won't let him look away. The silence is loud as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to break this intimate moment. His heart beats faster with every second that passes and he swears you can feel it too.

You’re gazing at one another, closer and closer you get, lips a mere breath from touching.

The two of you are so close to each other now. You feel like you can breathe in each other's energy. Rolan's mouth is millimeters away from yours, as the two of you hold each other tightly. You feel as if you have finally found something real...something pure. Your lips are so close, you can practically taste each other's breath. Your hands grip each other tightly, as if you never want to let go.

“Rolan...tell me you want this” you gaze up at him with pleading eyes, your hands gently grasping at his robe.

His breath comes in shallow, quick breaths as he gazes down at you. You look up at him with such intense desire that he feels his heart stop. He wants this, he needs this. Your lips are so close and he wants nothing more than to finally meet them.

Your eyes flicker to his lips.

At the hint of your eyes flickering to his lips, Rolan leans down slowly. Your eyes meet before closing and your breath hits each other's tongues. It's happening; you feel so alive in the moment. Your breath catches as your lips touch and you feel like you may never recover. All other noises from the street below drown out as you both finally kiss, your hearts pounding. Rolan's hands are gripped tightly around you, as if he cannot bear letting you go.

Your kiss is soft and sensual. His lips press to yours as he pulls you into a deep embrace. Your kiss turns passionate, his tongue sliding against yours and you can't help but moan into it.

The moan surprises him and his breath catches in his throat once more. He pulls you in closer, kissing you more intensely. He wants this kiss more than anything, you're like a magnet that he can't pull away from. The kiss grows more and more passionate, your lips sliding against each other, bodies pressing tightly together. With each breath, heat flows throughout your bodies, each one taking in the other's energy.

You move your hands to grasp at his back and bring him closer. You can't help but want more of him as he feels as though he's devouring every inch of your soul in his kiss, a price you would gladly pay to feel more of him in this way.

Rolan responds to your touch, moving his hands to hold your body tightly against his. Your body presses against him and he wants you all over him, his breath is short and fast as he loses himself in you. He moves to kiss you more, wanting to consume you with everything he has. His tongue explores your mouth, sliding along your teeth and lips, as he tries to make sure you feel him in just the right places while your hands hold him close. He kisses you deeply, he’s lost entirely in this moment with you.

You slowly break the kiss your chest heaving as you look up at him, your eyes are glassy and your lips swollen, chest heaving  and mouth slightly agape. “Rolan...I need you to know something.”

Rolan looks down at you, breathing heavily himself. His eyes meet yours, as he's waiting for you to finish your statement. He wants to know what it is you wanted to say, whatever it is - he has a feeling it won't change the way he looks at you.

“I...I've never done this before…” Your eyes wander away from his bashfully as he holds you at his chest. His heart is pounding out of his ears as he tries to register your words.

Rolan feels his breath catch in his throat. He stares at you for a moment, not sure how to respond. “You've never done this before? You're a talented, gorgeous woman who could have any man she wanted - and he was the man you chose.” A rush of elation and pride washes over him, as if that one fact is enough to set him over the moon.

You sheepishly look away from him. “Perhaps it was foolish of me to wait but...I have had opportunities but turned them down. I only ever wanted to do this with someone I cared for and for the last two years....I was hoping that would be you.” You jolt into him and bury your head in his chest in embarrassment.

Rolan's heart leaps in his chest. Your words make his heart ache and smile all at the same time. You've been wishing this for years? That's a powerful fact to hear. That means that out of anyone who's wanted you, I'm the lucky one? Rolan can't help but smile bashfully, as he pulls you closer to him still. His lips graze your head, as he holds you close. The feeling of your body against his is so warm and comforting, like home.

You mumble into his chest. “Rolan please say something oh gods I'm so embarrassed....”

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around you tighter, bringing your body against his. He nuzzles his cheek against your hair and whispers in response, his voice soft and comforting. "There's no need to be embarrassed. I never would have wanted this to be with anyone else. It's... it's almost as if I've been waiting for this moment my entire life."

You look at him clearly still embarrassed. “I knew going into this that you perchance had more experience than me since you're extremely handsome and you're well...the Archmage of Ramazith Tower. You've got all of these things and I'm just the adventuring alchemist girl who makes interesting potions.”

Rolan chuckles, shaking his head as you continue your sentence. “You're such a shy, sweet girl, and it's endearing, you know that?” Rolan can't help but smile at everything you say. He strokes your hair gently and lets his hand slide down your back. "Oh... oh, my dear. First of all, you are not just a mere 'adventuring alchemist' - you are an extremely talented woman with the most creative mind I've ever seen in a mage. And secondly..."

You look into his eyes finally as he gazes down at you softly, awaiting his reply. Your heart is racing

His gaze holds yours intensely. Your heart is thumping against your chest, trying to burst out. He finally responds, pulling you in until your lips are almost touching "Your intellect is what drew me to you, yes... but it's your personality that made me want to stay. You're kind and sensitive, with a playful streak and a fiery nature. You care about the world in the most empathetic way, and you always try to do what's good and right, even if it's at your own expense."

You feel your heart flutter.

“You think all those things of me? Truly?”

Rolan's smile widens as he gazes at you, his lips an inch away from touching. You can feel his breath softly brushing against your lips "Truly... I've never known anyone who compares to you. You're more than talented, more than beautiful... you're truly the most incredible person I've ever met."

“Then Rolan...” your words become quiet briefly before steeling yourself and speaking confidently, “…show me. I want to be yours.”

Rolan's eyebrows arch higher in surprise, as he stares at you. But his eyes linger on your lips. In this moment, he can't help but want this, to be yours. To be with you. After a moment, he pulls you in for another kiss, this one more powerful and passionate than the last. You feel his hands grip you tighter, as his lips hold yours with intensity. He kisses you deeply, slowly at first but picks up quickly. His breath catches in his throat as he feels his body responding to yours.

You feel him grasping you tightly in his embrace and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss. His kisses make your lips tingle and your body flush with heat. As you kiss him, you guide him back towards your bed while pawing at his robes.

He allows you to guide him. Your hands on him are like a spark that sets off a wildfire in his body; he cannot hold back the heat that builds within him as you guide him to the bed. The intense kisses make his heart race, his breath heavy and frantic. He can't believe this is happening. He cannot believe that you are here with him now. Your kisses make him want you all at once, the desire to give himself to you overwhelming.

You feel the back of your legs hit your bed and you bring your hands to his chest, grasping tightly at the fabric of his robes. You want to touch his bare skin, feel his skin against your palms, against your bare breasts. A desire to simply touch him consumes you.

As your hands grip the fabric of his robes, he cannot hold back a low groan. The sensation of your caress sends chills through his body, igniting a longing within him that he cannot control. He wants to be closer to you, to have you so close that no air exists between your bodies. The rush of your warm breath grazing his neck sends shivers creeping up his spine, all of it making him desire you more than he ever has. His hands move to grasp your hips closely as he keeps kissing you deeply.

You break the kiss and look at him with your cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with a look of palpable lust. “Can you...take your robes off? I want to…feel you.”

Rolan's face flushes, his breath ragged and quick. Your words sounded so innocent but were meant for something much more suggestive. After a long moment, he can only manage to nod as he begins to remove his robes, your eyes glued to every inch of exposed skin he reveals. Once he is completely bare, you can see the scars that cover his entire body. There are some long and deep scars while others are shallow and speckled. He stares back at you, his body pulsing with energy and desire. He wants you more than he's ever wanted anything.

As he stands there in only his breeches and boots you can't help but marvel at his bare torso. You run your fingers across the planes and edges of his chest, feeling the hard points of the ridges his Tielfing body possesses and ghosting over his many scars. His body is fascinating and it entrances you.

Your touch sends shivers all over his body. He moans softly as you caress his bare torso with the tips of your fingers, tracing the ridges like a map of his own flesh. Your fingers are soft and playful, and your touch is hypnotic. He lets out a deep shuddering breath, as every inch of his body responds to you.

Something inside you stirs and you bring your lips to his chest to feel the sharp edges of his Tielfing markings. They're rough and calloused near smooth skin, the texture feels odd against your lips but still pleasant. The sensation of your lips on his Tielfing markings has a strange effect on him. It is as if all of the nerve endings in his body are waking up, coming to life at the touch of your lips. His body shivers and his breathing grows faster as each second passes, his breath heavy with anticipation. He closes his eyes against you, the desire to feel you in every way possible growing even more. He reaches down to pull you in closer so that your bodies are pressed together, your lips grazing his skin like a delicate kiss from flames.

You kiss his chest going lower and lower, down the expanse of his chest and abdomen and you stop briefly as you approach the edge of his breeches before looking up at him in awe. You haven't been intimate with a man in this way yourself, but you have ready many a romance novel and seen plenty of erotic art to know what you could do for him in this position.

The moment of hesitation makes him laugh softly, as he knows exactly what you're thinking. At first, he can only watch as you hover near the edge of his breeches. But he's also incredibly aroused by your boldness and curiosity, knowing how much further you're willing to take this - something that makes his chest flutter and his breath catch in his throat. You are clearly a curious woman who likes to explore things and take things to their limits. You are more than he could have ever imagined, and it makes him want you even more.

You look up at him expectantly as his hands come to graze your cheeks, one of his thumbs rubbing against your bottom lip affectionately. He can only admire how incredible you look kneeling before him, your eyes sparkling with wonder.

The feel of his hands on your cheeks makes your heart race. You stare back into his eyes, seeing the hunger within them. You feel his breath heavy in the air, each second that passes only adding to your excitement. You can tell that he wants you badly, and the fact that he's taking the time to hold you in his gaze and caress your cheek makes you feel incredibly wanted and desired. The rush of emotions from within you feels like fireworks, your heart beating out of your chest with every moment that passes.

“Rolan...can I..?” Your words still in the air, your gaze meeting his.

He stares back at you, his breath shaky as he waits for your words. Your touch has him dizzy and his heart hammering in his chest. Your eyes are bright, your words just out of reach. There's not much thought behind it - he knows very well what you're going to ask. He can't help but nod slightly, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips. He wants this, wants you.

Upon seeing him nod, you carefully unlace his breeches noting his arousal as you do. Your cheeks are alight. This is your first time seeing a man so intimately, the blood beneath your skin heating your body as you knew what you were about to do. Your fingers ply inside the band of his breeches and undergarments and slowly pull them down over his manhood, your breathing is heavy, hot.

The sensation of you pulling down his breeches has a sudden effect on him. His body shudders and his breath catches in his throat as you reveal his shaft to the air around you. Your fingers brushing against his bare skin make him tingle all over, his body aching for your touch. He tries to maintain his composure as your hands work your way down, each passing second only adding to his aroused state.

Cautiously you reach a hand out and give him an experimental grasp and stroke to him. Rolan gasps and bites his bottom lip with a fang in response to your touch. Your hand is so soft against the hardness of his arousal. He wants to thrust his hips against your hand but he stills himself to allow you to explore him. Your experimental grasp sends a jolt through him, your touch the first to ever to do so. It’s cautious, gentle, curious. It’s fascinating his skin is so soft yet so firm beneath your touch as you work your hands up and down his shaft, noting the peculiar ridges upon it.

Slowly your hand works as you bring the other to his thigh to balance yourself. You've never kneeled before a man in any sense before and the sensation it brings you to kneel before him and see him panting and breathless stirs a growing feeling between your thighs.

The sensation of you kneeling before him is a rush it gets his blood pumping and sends sparks all over his body. His breath is still heavy and his eyes are glued to yours, every breath you take sending a jolt of excitement through him. He can't help but shiver slightly, your touch making every inch of his body sensitive and responsive as if sparks danced upon his skin. His heartbeat quickens and his breathing grows faster with every second that passes, every stroke of your hands upon his erect member. You touch him and caress him in a manner that sends shivers down his spine with anticipation and in his mind all he can think is more.

You feel him shiver and it fills you with pride knowing you are the one making him feel like this. You cast your gaze upwards and in a quick movement, take his manhood into your mouth. He cries out and throws his head back as his shaft of his cock caresses your tongue and you hum in satisfaction. The way the ridges of his member caress your tongue as you suck him, lick him, and slide him in and out of your mouth and between your lips is a sensation that makes you want even more of him. Rolan is panting and moaning as your movements grow quicker and you feel his fingertips and claws playing against your scalp, encouraging you to continue your exploration while his tail begins to whip wildly behind him.

The sensation of your lips and tongue caressing him sends a wave of heat from his loins out the rest of his body. He can feel himself beginning to lose control and his pleasure beginning to peak. You're breathing heavy against him and you can feel his hips rocking against your lips and you know he’s most likely close to release.

He stops you with a gentle pat to the head and tap to the cheek, picking up your head up to look at him. His heart nearly stops entirely as he looks at you and sees how erotic you look. Your pupils are blown out, cheeks brightly flushed, lips swollen and plump as a strand of saliva connects your mouth to his most intimate parts. It's so lewd that even he could never have imagined such a sight with you even in the confines of his wet dreams.

A wave of hot embarrassment flashes over him as his heart races at your expression. Your flushed and reddened cheeks send his mind whirling as he takes in this moment. When you look up at him, the moment of pause is overwhelming. Your lips are still wet with saliva from your exploration, the scent of you filling the air and making his head spin all over again with desire. He can't help but reach back into your hair, wanting to maintain this close contact between you two.

“Did I...do something wrong?” You ask, your brows knitted in concern.

He shakes his head slightly, keeping his gaze on your eyes as he moves his fingers through your hair "No, no, quite the opposite." He swallows hard, feeling his face still flush from the moment. "When you..." He sighs, not sure how exactly to describe it, "When you took me into your mouth like that... It was... It was incredible. I almost…came in your mouth." His cheeks redden with his admission.

You blush and look away, not realizing how incredibly lewd you look to him in that moment and how aroused the sight is making him.

The combination of your position and the visual alone is enough to drive him wild. The blush covering your cheeks and the way you look away, not even realizing how beautiful you are in this moment, drives him crazy with desire. He pulls your head back to him and stares you down, his eyes burning with a hunger as he keeps working his fingers through your hair and his voice wavers. "It was the most glorious sight I could've ever imagined, to see you so... open and submissive like that."

Your heart is pounding and your breathing is quick as you stare up at him. He brings his hands to the sides of your face and motions for you to stand before him, allowing him to kiss you once before he gently begins to run his hands over your still-clothed body.

As you rise from your position on your knees, he cannot look away from the sight of your body. Even covered by your clothes, he cannot help but stare at the way it shapes your form. He traces your curves with his fingers, and you can feel the heat emanating from every inch of his hand. Your breath comes quicker and heavier as you feel his hands wandering, exploring you.

A confidence stirs within you seeing him naked before you. You back away from him slowly and begin to unlace your bodice, one strand at a time, letting it fall to the floor before sliding your blouse over your head and tossing it somewhere behind you. Rolan is taking in your every action and sees your shy smile as your hands creep to your chest bindings. With a simple snap, they unravel from your chest, falling to the ground around you. His eyes grow wide in awe.

The sight of you revealing yourself to him sends shockwaves throughout his body. Your skin is pale and smooth, without a hint of blemish. Your breasts are perfect. Your shape is incredible. All the time he's thought about you in this way, all the times he's wondered what you might look like in such a state, all these expectations are blown away by the reality of you in that moment. He swallows hard, his eyes still glued to you as he struggles to contain the heat that is coursing through him. Oh how he wants to touch you, to grasp at the soft curves of your body and claim them as his.

You’re standing before him shyly now unlacing our own breeches and kicking your socks away, shedding the last bit of clothing left upon your body. Rolan can only stare at you jaw slack you stand before him, all of you, naked in the glowing light of the moon and the glow of the candles in your room. You glance away embarrassed at your nakedness and cross your arms in front of your breasts to cover yourself. A heat rushes through you as you realize you’re bare for him to see.

His eyes are wide as he gazes upon you in your naked state. Your body is perfect, and even the slightest movement triggers a response in him. His eyes are glued on you and he cannot help but let out a low growl from the sight of you. The way you cover your breasts triggers something deep inside him, the urge to claim you even more intense now. His breath is heavy and his fingers twitch, wanting desperately to touch you.

Your eyes quickly meet his when you hear the low growl he emits. It makes your skin prickle with gooseflesh and heat pool between your thighs. You're now an arm’s length away from him but you can feel the heat his body is emitting and can see his tail turned up in attention.

He reaches out and grabs your arms, his grip firm and strong as he moves them away from your breasts. He wants to touch you, to have you completely vulnerable and submissive before him. His eyes burn hot as he looks you over, wanting to see you covered in every inch of his affection. He glances down at your body briefly for a moment, eyes burning, before he moves his hands back up. "Look at me, please."

You cast a shy glance to him as you allow him to move your hands from covering your breasts.

The way his eyes are glued to you sends shivers up your spine, your eyes flicking between his gaze and his mouth. You can feel your own breath grow heavier as you notice his eyes moving slowly down your body again. He glances at your lips as he speaks. "It is all so perfect. You are perfect."

“Rolan...”You trail off finally having the confidence to press your naked body to his in an intimate embrace. He's looking down at your form and he wants nothing more than to make you his in that moment. To take your maidenhood and be the first man to claim the affection of the rare and delicate flower that you are.

The way your body presses into his makes his flesh prickle and a wave of heat rush through him. You look so small in his arms, he can't help but wrap them around you and pull you closer. The desire he feels is burning hot, his body shaking slightly. Your body is so soft, so perfect. The way he can feel you heat against him. He stares at you, his eyes burning, his breath still heavy. He wants to claim your body, to make you all his.

You look up at him as you break the embrace and scoot onto the bed behind you, bringing his hand with you and guiding him on top of you.

When you guide him onto the bed, he cannot help but get excited at the way your body is moving his way. He is on top of you with his weight balanced on his arms, hands still cradling you to him while his arms cage you in. The way he is staring at you is making you shiver, and you can feel the way his body is moving against yours. This is an incredibly intimate moment, and he is loving every second of it. You see the look in his eyes, the desire, and the hunger.

As he cages your body in further, you bring your hands up to his hair and loosen it so it falls in a curtain around the both of you. A smile plays on your lips and you give him a soft, chaste kiss, spreading your legs wide enough for him to slot between them. He sees your gaze looking over the planes of his face as you hold it in your hands. “Rolan...I'm ready.”

The way your legs move apart for him sends a jolt through his entire body. Seeing you spread your body and your most delicate parts for him makes his heart hammer in his chest. It's the most beautiful and arousing sight he could've ever imagined. He is breathless with desire, his hands gripping yours tightly as he can feel what has to happen next. "Are you sure?" he hisses, his eyes bright with want.

You nod in response. “Yes, I'm sure. I want you.”

This response sends more heat through him. His eyes burn hot with arousal. He moves slightly closer, his breath still heavy as he gets close to your face. He pauses for a moment, his mouth almost hovering against yours. He can feel himself wanting you even more now. He stares into your eyes and you can see the desire in his. His own cheeks are blushing, his body trembling and hot. The moment between you two is so heavy, so intense, and so erotic. "Are you ready?" he finally asks again.

You nod once more. “Yes…” Your answer is breathless

That sends another shiver through him. His lips part slightly as he moves down and kisses your neck, feeling your lips pouting slightly in response. He moves down further, kissing down your neck, down to your chin, down to your lips. He kisses you deeply, his hands moving down to your sides and tracing your figure. The sensation of your body beneath him is so sensual and exciting. Every inch of your skin and flesh is covered in heat and warmth, and your body is burning in a way he's never felt before. His kisses become harder, more frantic, and more intense.

He's kissing at your breasts and neck, a hand of his wandering to one of your breasts to knead it in his palms and caress at your nipples with his fingers. You whimper and cry out into his touch as he continues to kiss and explore your body. He is consumed, enthralled by the sounds his touch elicits from your kiss-swollen lips.

Each time your body reacts to his touching you, he is overcome with a rush of excitement. Every sound, every whimper, every moan, every movement you make is something that drives him wild. His body is trembling now as he continues to kiss you, his hand caressing your breast, his breath heating the skin beneath his kisses on your naked flesh.

His fingertips wander your body and you feel them making their way down the plane of your belly before sliding between your thighs. You feel his fingers tracing at your most intimate of parts and you can't help but moan into the intense pleasure he's plucking from your body as he traces between your folds gently.

The feeling is overwhelming, you feel as if every bit of your body is singing in pleasure.

“Ah! Rolan!” You yelp as you feel his fingers slowly slide inside of your body and hook against you. He begins slowly pumping in and out of your womanhood, his thumb rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves above. You've never felt such pleasure and your breathing is becoming ragged as he continues to tease at your body, the sound of your arousal squelching around his fingers and your pants echoing off the walls.

Rolan is kissing at your neck as he ensures you're properly prepared for the act that is about to come. He begins to feel the ring of muscles of your center tighten and he carefully removes his fingers and gazes at your breathless form lying beneath him.

He cannot help but gaze at you with adoration and desire, his eyes burning hot as you lie beneath him. Your body is writhing with want, your breath coming in quick, and the folds between your thighs are slick with your arousal.

You look at him and plead breathlessly. ��Please...”

His breath seems to catch at the word you use. His eyes become almost predatory as that is all that he needed. Rolan positions his hips to yours and slowly slides himself inside of your body, stretching you around the shaft of his cock. At first it's a searing burn, tight and tense but then gives way to a pleasant sensation of fullness. Rolan stills when he hears you cry out in pain beneath him. He pauses upon hearing your small cry of discomfort, not sure if he should continue. For a moment, he remains still as he looks down at you to gauge your reaction, his eyes searching your face for any sign he should stop.

Your eyes have tears in them but you look up at him to reassure him you're okay. “I'm okay...just adjusting.”

That's all he needs. His body begins to move, his breath heavy and his pace slow at first but gradually gaining speed and rhythm. He slowly thrusts into you and every glide of his body in and against yours makes you arc your back in pleasure. You can feel every inch of his body inside yours, the sensation of his manhood stirring heat between your thighs. Your hands come to wrap around him and grasp at the flesh of his back as he thrusts into you. You can't help but moan as he makes you feel sensations your own fingers have never granted you with every thrust of him into you.

His thrusts, once languid and slow, gradually moving harder and faster against you. Your legs instinctively come up to wrap around his hips and you cry out when he begins to hit a single spot inside your body over and over at this new angle. You know he's losing himself to you as he grunts and growls into sporadic kisses against your lips and neck, his tail thrashing wildly, bed frame rocking into the wall. “Ah oh gods Rolan I can't...it feels so good I'm- ngh!” Your words are broken by the pleasure tightening between your legs.

Rolan is lost to his urges and he begins to growl deeply, his teeth gritted, fangs on display as he ruts into you. His body is hot, flushed, filled with desire to complete you. You can hear his ragged breaths mixed with primal sounds resonating deep in his chest. It's a sound that makes your womanhood throb with want and your body shudder with a deep primal need for more.

You're panting hard and the sensations are too much, you feel the coil inside you tightening quickly ready to snap and you call out to him, your release is closing in. “I-I think I'm going to come! Please don't stop!”

He hears your pleading and continues his pace and suddenly he too feels his own climax rapidly approaching. It's all so much, the heat between your bodies, your sweet cries of pleasure and the wet sounds of skin meeting skin, the desire to fill you with a part of himself. He's holding out until he hears you cry out, your hips suddenly thrashing against him wildly, your hands clawing at his back as your climax rips through your body violently. The sensations and noises you're making have him speed his thrusts up before his hips stutter inside of you and he can feel your orgasm milking him for every ounce of spend he can give. He groans low and bites down on your shoulder as he fills your womb with his seed, slowly rutting himself into you as he comes.

You lie there together, panting in the afterglow of your mutual climaxes.

He continues to lie on top of you, his eyes closed and his breath heavy. He's still inside of you and still shaking slightly, all the heat coming off of his body. He lifts his head away from you, his eyes opening slowly. He gazes into yours, his eyes burning hot as he looks down at you.

You look up at him eyes half-lidded, lips parted in a small smile as your chest heaves.

Rolan leans down and gives you a kiss, his body still trembling slightly. You can feel his heart still thumping in his chest as your mouths meet. His tongue moves to trace at your lips, and his breath is still heavy from the intense pleasure. His kiss is sensual, comforting in the haze of your lovemaking. As he kisses you, he wraps his arms between your body and the bed and brings his tail to wrap around your calf. He's clinging to you intimately and you feel your heart skip a beat.

He pulls you even closer to him, pressing his chest against you, the both of you sticking together slightly as the light sheen of sweat on your skin cools. He’s holding you tightly, his body still trembling, but slowly regaining its composure. You can feel the heat and the pulse coming off of him. Your bodies, your souls are still connected in this moment of deep and genuine intimacy. It's a beautiful thing, and he knows that even from the way you look at him. He presses his body against yours and his tail snakes around your leg, brushing against you softly as he remains inside of you.

He breaks the kiss and asks how you feel, carefully bringing himself to hover slightly above you. You respond with a soft, love-drunk smile. “I feel...like I'm floating.”

He chuckles softly, his tail slowly slipping down your leg further. He nods at your response, his eyes still locked on yours "And I feel like I'm on fire. But in a good way." The warmth of the moment lingers with both of you as you lie there, staring at one another. You can see the desire in his eyes, but his breath is calming now, his body relaxed a bit more.

He notices you grimace briefly and chirp in discomfort. He's still inside of you but the mixture of your arousal and his seed is starting to uncomfortably seep out from you. Rolan notices this too and pulls out gently, trying his best not to make too much of a mess. His breath is still heavy and his face flushed with desire. He lies down next to you in bed as he puts his arm around you, his tail wrapping around you again. He stares at you, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and affection. He's still breathing deeply and his body is still hot from your lovemaking.

You turn towards him and place a hand on his cheek to stroke his face and his claws gently scratch your back. The moment between you is indeed one of pure intimacy, as you lie wrapped in each other's arms, his hand still caressing your face, your nails gently scratching his back. You two share a look, your eyes locking softly as man and woman. The desire between you is still hot and heavy, your bodies still hot and flushed, and the moment fills you both with warmth and happiness.  He can't help but smile softly, his eyes on yours as you look at him. He's still wrapped around you, his arm still snaked about your body and his tail is wrapped around you like a heavy rope tying you together. This moment is so perfect and intimate. He looks so soft and adoring, a hard contrast to his normal grumpy persona everyone else sees. It makes you chuckle and he's curious what has you giggling. He sees you chuckle at him and raises a brow, curious about what is making you laugh so.

“You just are so different right now...everyone thinks you're this grumpy, stoic wizard but not to me.”

As you say this, he can feel himself blush slightly. He shifts a bit in the bed, embarrassed. He feels as if he has just been seen naked, in a way. This is the kind of intimacy that makes him feel extremely vulnerable with you. For a moment, he looks aside in embarrassment but then finally meets your gaze again, smiling softly.

“I quite like this side of you...it's nice.”

His blush deepens at this response. He sighs and looks down, then back up to your eyes with a shy smile. It's rare that someone gets through to him this much, especially with his shell of sarcasm and grumpiness. It's nice to know you enjoy this side of him.

You snuggle closer to him and he wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

He can feel his heart racing at these moments of intimacy and affection. The warmth of you being in his arms is one of the most calming things he has ever experienced. He presses himself into you and you can feel the heat coming off his body, he's definitely still flushed from what happened between you two. He kisses your head and wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close to him.

“Rolan...thank you.”

Your simple words cause him to blush deeply, his cheeks feeling like they're on fire. He smiles slightly and pulls you in a little bit closer to him, his body still feeling a bit warm from the intimacy between you both. He closes his eyes as he pulls you against him and speaks softly, his breath a little shaky. “No... I should thank you for tonight. It was... something I needed.”

“Something you needed?” You picked your head up to look at him curiously.

He sighs softly, his hand stroking your hair. You look soft and beautiful in his arms, a very comforting contrast to his rough and gruff exterior. “You know, I haven't... let anyone in like this. No one... not in a long time.”

You smile and nuzzle close before speaking. “Then I'm glad you were my first.”

Your words almost catch him off guard with their intimacy. He chuckles softly and his body is still trembling slightly, the arousal still lingering from between you both. He kisses your back gently and holds you closer to him for a moment longer.

“I was nervous...that I wouldn't be good enough for you since I was a you know...virgin. In truth you have a lot of my firsts now…” Your face turns read once more as your words trail off.

A smile spreads across his face when you admit this, his eyes beaming at you with affection. His hand runs lightly across your back and he nods in agreement with you. The idea of being your first means a lot to him not simply because he was your first intimate experience but because you trusted him enough to choose him.

“I'm glad it was with you. Perhaps I sound silly but ever since we met...I wanted it to be you.”

Your words are like music to his ears. Hearing this brings him another smile, one that is soft and heartwarming. He continues to caress your back softly, his heart swelling with emotions.

You sigh softly. “In truth I'm not sure where we go from here....we are both adults and I know you've got your own goings on. If tonight is all I get with you then... I am happy. You fulfilled a wish of mine and for that I can't ask for more. If that is the case I do think I'd be sad I ruined out friendship by being selfish...”

Your words make his heart sink, his breath catching in his chest as he hears you say this. He realizes that, in the heat of the moment, you may have gotten the wrong impression. He shifts his body a bit, moving onto his side so that he's now facing you fully. He speaks in a calm and soothing voice, one that has no edge of sarcasm or anger to it at all. He speaks to you with all honesty. “I... I want you. To keep seeing you. I... do not want it to end like this.”

Your eyes snap to his.

Your heart stops and your eyes widen.

“You want...to keep seeing me? Truly?” Your eyes are watering and it feels like your words are caught in your throat.

He raises a hand to brush the hair out of your face and his eyes are a mix of passion and intensity, but also affection.

“Truly.” It's an honest and solemn answer. He brings a hand to your cheek, and his eyes still hold the same fire and adoration. He nods at you a few times as he continues to hold you tightly, his words still being honest and genuine.

“As in...to court and be a...couple?” the words leave your mouth uncertain.

He smiles softly and his cheeks are burning up. He nods his head frantically a couple more times. This feels real, like he's finally let himself be vulnerable with you in these moments after he closed himself off for so long. You spring into his chest and he feels you start to cry as you bury yourself into him,

Your tears are the last thing he expected, but the instant he feels your body shaking and trembling his arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him. He rubs your back gently as you cry, his hand a soft and calming sensation compared to his usual stoic and prickly exterior.

You mumble softly, “Thank you.”

He rubs your back gently and holds you closely, his heart filled with a warmth he has never felt before. It feels so good to be this close to you, a woman he can be honest and open with instead of using sarcasm and grouchy behavior to keep people away. He lets you cry into him, he doesn't mind the tears and the only thing he wants to do right now is hold you.

Your tears dry and you bring your face to his and he sees how wonderful you are and how much you truly care. “I was so worried that tonight was going to be it for us I just...I am so happy right now.”

He smiles softly and wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The idea that you thought tonight could be the last time you see him breaks his heart. You see his expression, his eyes shining with a hint of tears. How could he let you feel this way? He pulls you in a bit closer to him and holds you tightly.

“I'm sorry for crying,” You wipe your tears away,“I just...feel overwhelmed. Good things don't happen to me often.”

He shakes his head and caresses your face. You see that he is still a bit emotional, that this whole experience means a lot to him. He is used to keeping people at a distance. And you're right there in his arms, crying, vulnerable, but he feels no desire to pull away. No sarcasm, no anger, just the desire to caress the woman standing before him now. He leans forward and kisses you gently, and then he holds you tightly again, not allowing a single inch between you two.

You feel him wordlessly comforting you as you curl in on him and fall asleep in his arms. The silence doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable. The two of you are in each other's arms and have just made love. It's a beautiful thing, this intimacy. You begin to feel yourself drifting off to a comfortable sleep, the feeling of his body still pressing against yours keeps you secure and safe. You can't sleep any better than this, knowing you have his strong and protective arm protecting you. You fall asleep, your heart still beating with joy from this evening knowing that your first would not be your last.

[nininikki]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘: e. jaeger x black fem!reader

(ꕥ) summary! — love had never made you feel this shitty before. (part two can be read here.)

(ꕥ) warnings! — toxic relationships, lots of angst, implications of sex, alcohol consumption, vomiting, reader & eren are in college, (doesn’t play a huge role, but it’s implied) eren is very toxic, reader is also very stuck, i love mikasa, but she’s not very great here haha 😅 (don’t kill me pls)

(ꕥ) author’s note! — first thing i’m publishing on here, lol. wrote it in two days, which i’m sure you can tell. whatever. don’t think too hard. just vibe ok. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!!

(ꕥ) word count! — 2.7k

love wasn’t exactly the word. at least, it couldn’t have been, right? surely something as pure and innocent and good as love couldn’t have led to an outcome like this.

it couldn’t have led to you taking him back time and time again, doling out infinite chances, and losing a bit of your dignity every time you did.

it wasn’t even supposed to be like this. hell, the two of you weren’t even dating. despite what he’d made you think. what, with the surprise dates, expensive bouquet deliveries, and his ironclad adamance that you didn’t do anything like that with anyone else.

that last part in particular was your selling point. you could vividly recount the times he’d talked you out of going on various dates for reasons you had been stupid enough to believe. maybe you were an idiot for allowing yourself to entertain it, but you’d try not to drive yourself insane dwelling on that possibility.

as you sat at the edge of eren’s bed, naked as the day you were born and fighting back the sobs threatening to rack your body, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d got caught up in all this shit.

***

you first caught eren’s eye when he attempted to flirt with you outside of a bar one night, to which you tipsily drawled, “do i know you?” and then, as if that weren’t embarrassing enough, you followed it up with, “oh, you’re that douchebag football player!”

even through your inebriation, eren’s face was ultra-recognizable, as it would be to anyone who went to your school and also happened to have eyes.

gemstone colored eyes, skin covered in a delicious tan, long hair curtaining the sculpture that was his head, eren jaeger had an incredibly difficult face to forget about.

being the quarterback of your school’s football team and most sought after man on campus, (or perhaps in the state) it’d be more surprising if he wasn’t a douche.

so, what? not like you’re looking for anything serious, anyway. it could just be a casual thing. at that, the yes bells in your head rang loud, the sound growing more ferocious as you trailed your eyes down the expanse of his body.

for a few moments, you could see why he had so many people drooling like rabid dogs without any effort. he was fucking gorgeous. you took in a breath of fresh air, trying to sober your body and your mind. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

one of your girlfriends had linked your arms together and murmured something like, “i’m sorry about her, she’s wasted.”

“i am perfectly sober.” you groaned, which wasn’t exactly true, but you were closer to sober than wasted.

he chuckled heartily, and you had to stop yourself from getting dizzy in the turquoise oasis of his eyes. or maybe you were a little drunker than you’d thought. whatever.

after a little while, you’d convinced your friends you were okay enough to give him your number, and when you did, a satisfied smile stretched across his face. “i’ll call you.”

“yeah, okay.” you said dryly, despite the fabric of your underwear feeling completely opposite.

***

a day later, and much to your sober surprise, eren had called you, introducing himself as, “that douchebag football player.” you let your face fall into your palm at the blurry memory, trying not to keel over in humiliation before he could even ask you out.

luckily, you remained steady long enough for him to invite you over to smoke later. looking back now, you wanted to slap yourself silly for even considering, and then slap her even harder for saying yes.

***

your bi-weekly smoke sessions turned weekly, and then almost daily. but by then, he wasn’t even coming over to smoke anymore. “i don’t wanna get high with you all the time. what if i just wanna enjoy you while we’re sober?” eren had claimed as the two of you lay intertwined on his couch. you could remember the distinct feeling of your heart melting out of your chest and pooling around your feet.

then, he was coming over to your dorm with takeout bags shelved along his arms. and then texting you at random, telling you to be ready at a certain time, because he was taking you out to dinner.

and you certainly couldn’t forget the night all the pent up sexual tension and feral attraction shared between the two of you came to a screeching head. you both were high off your asses, and one thing had led to a-motherfucking-nother. next thing you knew, your back was pushed into a pretty arch as he drilled into that special spot inside of you. drool pooling at the corners of your lips, cheeks glossed over with tears, throat red and raw from the guttural moans pouring out of it.

four rounds later, when your limbs were jelly and you’d been rendered too tired to do much more, eren pulled you into his lap and played with your hair until you fell asleep. it was in that moment that you knew you were falling head over heels for him. although, he hadn’t given you much of a choice, had he?

***

then, it happened. you should’ve known something was up when he said he was headed to a party later that night, but didn’t invite you, which was something he’d always done. “you don’t really know anybody that’s gon’ be there. and i’m only goin’ for a little bit. no point in even bringing you with me.”

you simply nodded in agreement, him having thoroughly convinced you. and it wasn’t like you had any reason to think he was lying. eren never lied to you.

or at least that’s what you’d thought.

not twenty minutes after eren left, your phone had pinged with a message from one of your girlfriends.

party tonight & yes tf u are going. i’ll be outside in 10!!

you’d arrived at the party, shocked to see that there wasn’t an unfamiliar face in the throngs of people you shuffled through. bile had risen in your throat, but you chased it down with whatever was in the solo cup your friend handed you.

for a moment, you were having fun. your limbs falling into a relaxed, dancing rhythm, loud music coursing through your veins as though it were the alcohol you drank.

“oh, shit.” you heard your friend say from beside you, and the terror in her voice was enough to get you to pay attention.

anxiously, you followed the line of her gaze to a semi-vacant spot across the room. a spot where eren had another girl perched upon his lap, blowing smoke into her mouth before he attacked her already kiss-bitten lips with his.

you wanted so desperately to press your eyes shut, but the sight before you would surely live behind your eyelids for the rest of your life. so really, what was the point?

they broke away from the kiss, and you could’ve swore you tasted vomit at the sight of a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. after what felt like hours, eren’s eyes met with yours from across the room. before he could get the chance to even register you as some sort of hallucination, you bolted.

***

as soon as you’d locked the door behind you, you collapsed on your dorm floor. clothes and hair wet and chilled from the rain pouring outside, you’d nearly bit off your own tongue with all the shivers that racked you.

the sobs taking over your body were breathtaking, literally. you’d caught yourself trying to catch your breath through the tears more than a few times. at a certain point, they’d gotten so loud that you had to shove your face into a pillow to muffle the sounds.

an hour or so later, you’d decided to check your phone, only to instantly regret it once you saw the flurry of messages and calls from eren.

with each message you read, his vice grip on your heart only grew firmer. baby wya? we need to talk. if it weren’t for the ragged breaths running through your agape lips, you’d be sure you had already died of some type of shock.

i don’t want u goin to sleep mad at me baby. you wished you could squeeze the phone into pulp like an empty soda can. but your hands were weak, heavy, numb, as though they had been filled with wet packing peanuts. idk what you saw but it’s not what it looks like.

tears blurred your vision as you continued reading. pleas of, will you at least call me? and (likely empty) promises of, it’s not what it looks like and i just need to explain myself. this, coupled with twenty missed calls from him, had barbed wire wrapping around your heart, squeezing and squeezing until you were sure you could feel it explode inside your chest.

bile rose in your throat again, but you didn’t have it in you to hold it back this time. instead, you ran for your bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet as another wave of sobs came over your body

when you were done, you hardly recognized the person staring back at you in the mirror. the brown skin around your eyes was puffy and damp, your face mask-tight with tears, your lips wobbling pathetically. you felt the urge to throw up again.

***

“i don’t even know why you’re upset.” eren had attempted to console you. “mikasa, she’s…” your skeleton nearly folded in on itself as he said her name with the same cadence he usually did yours. “she’s nothing. she’s not y—”

“you had your tongue in her mouth.” you interjected, and you didn’t need to say anything else. hell, you could hardly bring yourself to say that.

“hey,” he said, reaching over the middle console to grab you gently by the chin. the look in his eyes held nothing but sorrow, sorrow that toed the line of pity, and pity that toed the line of condescension. “stop thinking about it, okay? we can’t work past this if you keep dwelling on the shit.”

his touch put your entire body on edge, a stark contrast to the usual. you plucked his hand off you as you held back a sniffle. “well, what the fuck else am i supposed to do?” a rogue tear fell from your eye. “i’m…” your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs. “i’m fucking hurt, eren.”

at his next sentence, you were overcome with the urge to scream until the lump dissolved from your throat. “it’s not like i cheated or anything.” you didn’t know what made it worse: the nonchalant attitude with which he said it, or the way he kissed his teeth before what he said next. “oh, c’mon. i thought you knew we were only fucking around.”

your masochism reared its ugly head as you asked, “what?” despite already hearing him loud and clear the first time.

“listen, y/n, i like you, b—”

“but not enough to…” make me your girlfriend. the words were there, but you physically couldn’t say them. “right.”

he didn’t answer, and really, he didn’t get a chance to. you were shoving his car door open and storming out of it.

for the next four days, he’d mailed surprise gifts to your dorm, all sent with enough various apologies and i miss you’s to make your tooth ache.

you’d forgiven him a week later.

***

and then another time, more recently, he’d given you an earful for making out with connie at some party. but how could he blame you? you were drunk and still hurting from all that happened before. and besides, it wasn’t like the two of you were dating or anything. at least, that’s what you had told him.

this led to a screaming match between the two of you as eren sped down the slick road. the veins in his neck threatening to break free from beneath his skin, knuckles growing paler and paler as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “what, you thought that shit was cute? connie’s one of my best friends, and you thought you could just kiss him in front of me?”

“i didn’t think i could, eren. i did. and if connie was really your best friend, he wouldn’t have let me.” you saw his eyes go fuzzy with white-hot fury, and could’ve laughed maniacally in satisfaction at the sight.

for a few brief, sick moments, you’d thought to yourself, good, you deserve this. but you squashed that feeling before it could turn into something worse. “you did the same thing to me, so just get over it.”

he came to a red light and took a moment to card his shaky hands through his hair. “it’s not the s—”

“not the same?” you scoffed in his direction, unbuckling your seatbelt and shoving his car door open. your dorm wasn’t too far away to walk. “yeah, whatever. just drop me off here.”

***

thus began the vicious cycle that you and him were all too familiar with. perfect, bad, worse, i’m sorry, perfect.

as of right now, you were in the middle of bad, which was awful considering you weren’t sure how things could get worse from here.

still naked from a round or two (or three) of earth-shattering sex, you’d heard eren’s phone ping with a message. figuring your orgasm-fried mush for a brain was playing tricks on you, you ignored it. until it pinged again. and again. and again.

eren usually slept like the dead, and you knew his password. what would be the harm in looking? you’d fought with yourself on it for a good five minutes before deciding.

you stretched your arm out over his slumbering body and plucked the thing off his nightstand. he twitched slightly, and terror struck your heart for a brief moment, but he’d only turned over on his stomach and wrapped his arms around your pliant waist.

warmth chased the terror away, and you considered not even checking the damn thing. until it pinged again.

you extended your arm out above your head, the safest way to hold it that wouldn’t risk disturbing him, even if you risked dropping it onto your face.

after unlocking it, your eyes had to trail over the notifications three or four times to be sure you hadn’t hallucinated. five messages from mikasa. that alone had your heart running in circles, but the actual messages proved to be undeniably worse.

r u done w her yet? i miss you. can you come over? or i can come over there? just call me when u can.

suddenly, eren’s arms began to grow tighter and tighter. squeezing you until your ribs cracked under the pressure, until your lungs collapsed from lack of airflow. or maybe that’s just how you had felt.

much to your ever growing horror, they had been texting for weeks. late night talks, plans of meeting up, exchanges of photos you’d much prefer to forget you saw. you name it, it was there.

silently, you put the phone back on the nightstand and tried to get yourself to fall asleep.

***

you hadn’t slept a wink, and now here you were: slugging your clothes over your body as the sun began peeking over the horizon. eren was still asleep, and you had managed to peel yourself out from under him just enough to make your leave.

your leave.

the words, the concept even, left a bittersweet taste simmering on your tongue. you were gonna leave him alone, and for good this time. because you were amazing and special and deserved ten times better than him, or that’s what you spent the majority of your sleepless night trying to convince yourself of.

your eyes, swollen and red, were begging to flutter shut, but you just… couldn’t. because you knew what vision would be sitting behind your eyelids the moment you did, and that prospect terrified you enough.

when you left his room, you didn’t dare look back at his sleeping form. not because you didn’t want to, but because you just couldn’t. couldn’t because of how weak he had made you; so weak that he didn’t even have to be awake to convince you to come back to him.

you stepped through his front door as though it were a portal to another world. another freer, happier, healthier world. the nippy morning air provided a temporary solace to your shaken figure. you took a deep gust in, hoping to give yourself a brief illusion of stability. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

[cavecanem3000]

Notes of a deity researcher #4

Smoking

I am not proud of the frequency at which I worship this god. It is a awful habit and I don't know if I'll ever overcome it.

The first time I met him I was 16 years old. I was at a house party and I had followed a group of people outside. There were five of us in total.

I was a habitual smoker at this point but I didn't admit it. I was more addicted to the social ritual than the nicotine. There was something ancient about holding a lighter up to another person's cigarette, the way fingers brush as that small parcel of pleasure is moved from person to person. There was something sensual to me about the deep scent of smoke emanating from our hot, wet mouth's.

I was incredibly inebriated and my eyesight shuttered in and out of focus. Every now and then I would see the silhouette of a sixth person with us, chatting and making large gesticulations, but when I blinked, he would be gone. I tried to focus my eyes enough to see him, but it was impossible. His silhouette was like a hole punch taken out of the wall behind him. I admit this with shame, but I felt the familiar jolt of attraction as his blurry form moved in my peripheral vision. He noticed this, of course, and he grinned with a cruelty that excited me.

The next time I saw him, I was taking a cigarette break at work. I was alone this time, and he was leaning against the wall. I could see him better in the midday light. His whole body was a washed out grey colour. I tried not to look at him. I had become aware of my ability to converse with gods at this point, but I was scared. I lit my cigarette into my cupped hand.

He spoke in time with the flick of my lighter.

"Thinking of quitting?" He asked.

I shook my head and cast my gaze down. I watched the remnants of my other smoke breaks. Cigarette butts, bent sideways by the force of them being stubbed. They looked like fat little worms.

He ran his hand up my side. I still didn't look at his face. His body was warm.

"No point lying," he said, "I'm not angry at you. I just want you to stick around."

I nodded, taking a small drag, I felt like a child with my head underwater. The cigarette felt a soft, small mouth against my lips.

"Stick around for me, yeah?" His words crawled into my lungs.

I did stick around for him. For years.

I didn't stop smoking until a month ago, when he visited me again.

How could he have known that I was quitting? I had only decided in that exact moment. But there he was.

He was almost white this time, with a sickly orange hue to his complexion. There was someone else with him too. A twelve year old with ruddy cheeks and a shaved head.

I was packing up my car to move and walked right past him.

"Quitting?" He asked.

I shrugged, "It's not like I don't like you."

"I'm better," the little boy said, "in fact I'm good for you."

"Yes!" Smoking said, grinning, showing his blackened teeth, "have you met my associate?"

The little boy pulled a sliver of metal out of his pocket and sucked on it like a pacifier. The air suddenly smelled of raspberry.

"Oh," I said, "Yes, I think we've met."

I looked the Smoking God in the eye this time. There was still that bolt of attraction. The sharp twist of intrigue. I knew that this wouldn't be the last time I'd see him.

He gripped my hand tight, his eyes wet with tears.

"I'll see you around," he said.

I smiled at him, "Of course."

He hasn't appeared to me since then, but I have smoked in the interim. I wonder how he feels about it. If he is elated with every drag or if he doesn't even notice.

I find myself thinking about him often.

[enteringdullsville]

Underrated Real Time Fandub Lines 2: Subspace Dubbed Over

“That’s one Reddit upvote right there!”

I had to read the transcript for this humdinger, said as Wario turns Zelda into a trophy.

“Woah! That was Wario and he won…”

That’s probably the best way to cap off Wario’s first appearance.

“My name’s ‘Pit’, like under the arm?”

“Exactly like that.”

There’s a lot of times where someone says something and somebody else’s response is drowned out, such as Palutena’s incredibly blunt response to Pit’s question.

“That’s the weirdest airplane.”

It deserves a prize.

“AAAAUUGHH! I remember when that happened!”

Wasted opportunity not to say “Looks like Team Rocket’s jacking off again”.

“ARM!”

“…Ow.”

The Halberd’s sole line of dialogue, coupled with Fox’s hilarious nonplussed reaction.

“What are we, some kind of Subspace Emissary?”

Because we’re…Super Smash Bros!

“Take that, TUUURTLEEE!”

It’s the weird added emphasis that seals the deal.

“You can’t shoot Donkey Kong!”

DK, as he’s actively being shot at.

“I don’t like the cut of your jib!”

DK, you’ve known Bowser for how long now?

“I did that on purpose!”

As the dub goes on, it becomes obvious that Wario’s the army’s most competent general.

“Am I a f***ing draaagon?”

I like to think the only reason Ray talks like that is because Holly’s voice is shot from Wario’s last scene.

“Tha…at’s right.”

“Pokémon Tower! Not Trainer, Tower!”

“Now I have it-ZELDA.”

Any time the characters acknowledge the character screens.

“I’m back with my GUN THAT KILLS PEOPLE!”

…As opposed to…

“I DO MAGIC, KILL JACKED UP KIDS, I’LL PROBABLY FLY NEXT!”

Porky, seconds before Ness sends him flying.

“I thought that guy was supposed to be Mario, bye!”

This wouldn’t be nearly as funny if Wario wasn’t screaming his name nonstop.

“Did you have lunch today, R.O.B.?”

“No, R.O.B., I didn’t have lunch today!”

The delivery on R.O.B. 2 is what kills me.

“It’s like-a the better pizzuh.”

R.O.B. lets his one guest appearance in Mario Kart go to his head.

“Why is it purple?”

“Because purple’s my favorite color, dumbass.”

“It’s a baaad color!”

“Stupid idiot.”

“Red’s better!”

This’ll be important later on...

“Dude, cookoldry-never mind.”

Hey, reference!

“Nyehh, oh, I’m not even supposed to be here!”

Another gem from “Bozo Dubbed Over” that doesn’t get enough appreciation.

“AH HOPE HE’S DEAD FOREVER!”

I quote this constantly.

“We’re Kirby.”

That’s oddly daunting coming from a bunch of Waddle Dees.

“Whoa, deja vu!”

“It’s happening again!”

Again, I quote Dedede constantly, intonation and all.

“It’s because I’m so scared that I did it!”

Luigi’s voice is just the best thing.

“F***ing, f***ing, f***ing, f***…I GOTTA WIN!”

Wario gets beat up so hard it causes him to talk normally.

“I HOPE THAT GUY’S NOT GETTING JACKED OFF.”

My favorite version of the episode’s running gag.

“HEY, LISTEN!”

Navi’s sole line of dialogue, and she’s inebriated.

“OHHH, that smells so bad! Did you do that?”

“…Yes.”

I adore the quick, off handed way Link says it.

“Who goes there? It’s me!”

Out of context, that’s an incredibly cool one liner.

“He speaks!”

Somebody in the background, talking about Pikachu.

“I think I found the computer room.”

IT’S HAPPENING AGAIN!

“That looks like OH, IT’S ME! KIRBY!”

Mar switching characters mid sentence.

“I think this guy’s about to kill you.”

This line plagues my mind and I love it.

“I killed you.”

“I ALSO KILLED YOU.”

Bowser and Bowser, Bowser’s Inside Bowser.

“I’m here again! BOWSER! I GOTTA WIN!”

Must be a Subspace Army thing.

“Ahh, it’s me! Zelda!”

“Oh no! It’s him! Zelda!”

Bonus points for being the second or third intelligible things Peach says.

“They killed Link! It’s so funny she died!”

‘Zelda’ kind of sucks at his job.

“Oh, I know this guy. He jump on me.”

“Dude, you ever noticed I’m f***ing green?”

“I’m here too; f***!”

“I’m a f***ing animal!”

Yoshi in general is gold.

“EEEYYYYYYYY-”

“WHO THE F*** IS THIS GUY?!”

Kirby’s very abrupt and dynamic entrance on the Wariomobile.

“Well! It’s a good thing I fixed my roof and got Bowser outta here!”

I love the implication that all the branching timelines are literally occurring back to back.

“WE’RE DOING IT AGAIN! WE HATE YOU!”

Bowser takes a page out of Dedede’s book.

“That’s my girlfriend!”

“Don’t kill your girlfriend! That’s my job!”

“I DON’T KNOW HER! KILL HER!”

“That’s my job!”

Same two characters, different princesses.

“Tuck my hand on my head! Hope my hair isn’t gay…”

“His hair is so stupid.”

The first line is funny enough coming from this version of Marth. Ike, however, I’m only just hearing his aside for the first time.

“YOU HAVE TO STAY HERE. YOU HAVE TO STAY HERE. I CAN’T. I’M GONNA BLOW UP, DUDE. YOU HAVE TO STAY HERE. I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE.”

“My main goal is to blow up!”

Tower, you’re pure evil.

“Beep, boop. We’re opening the doors! Come on in!”

“I don’t know what they were talking about, but that’s okay.”

The Wall-E Squad provides some of the series’ best nonsequiturs.

“Hey, you stop that, dumbass!”

Not so funny now, is it R.O.B.?

“AWW, F***! IT’S JET THE HAWK!”

That would be his cousin.

“UGNHF.”

This guy’s about to…

“Now I’m a robot!”

I’ve got nothing. Sam’s incredibly proud delivery is just great.

“How’s the weather up there?”

Pikachu also gets a good burn in.

“I BET MY PENIS IS REAL SMALL!”

Hello to you too, Falcon.

“WAAGH! WAAGH! WAAGH! WAAGH!”

“Get the F*** OUT!”

Falco cares not for Diddy’s eccentricities.

“Okay, I’m-I’m sick of this.”

MK serves as a great voice of reason to the crew.

“I’M A VERY SPECIAL BOY.”

“That is un dog!”

“Iiii’m a furry.”

Because dogs aren’t furries!

“Whoo!”

“What the heck’s going on down there?”

“Me!”

“I’m also here!”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

Our heroes.

“It’s okay, we’re almost done.”

“…Really?”

“Kept ya waiting, huh?”

A golden bit of timing right there.

“I’m in disguise now!”

Sheik, making no attempt to hide their distinctive voice.

“I’m in love with Samus, actually now!”

“I’M NOT!”

“No, not as much as I am, look-”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“No.”

You’d think being his species’ only dude would teach the Gan-Man some respect.

“This guy’s so horny, let’s kill him!”

R.O.B.’s immediate response to the above.

“That’s your f***ing name? That’s stupid!”

Falcon to R.O.B.. Three guesses as to who voices Falcon.

“THAT BETTER NOT BE THE RIDDLE GUY BEHIND US!”

It’s totally the riddle guy behind you.

“I’M THE BEST RACE CAR! F*** YOU!”

Kirby’s freaking pissed.

“My Michael was muted.”

That’s the most adorable way to refer to a microphone.

“You can’t kill me I’m so much too powerful f*** you to death.”

The lack of commas both deliberate and optimal.

“There shalt be no jacking off today…JACK ME OFF!”

“OOHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“I’m jacking off!”

The climax of the dub, as narrated by Falco.

“Now I’m back alive. WHYYY!?”

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU TWICE!”

Doing things in twos is just the Dedede way.

“AH NEED AH MONSTAH TO CLOBBAH DAT DERE PENIS!”

You like his quote?

“Wario’s gotta lose!”

Luigi finally grows a pair.

“MEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOWMEOW”

The last intelligible thing we hear, presumably Jigglypuff, before Penny banishes everyone for their hubris.

[kyokiou]

Train Station | I: The Inebriating Perfume.

Summary: After a feel weeks, Cho Sang-woo could forget everything; except that sweet scent of her.

Information: Hello, my lovely readers! First of all, I'm so sorry it took so long. I've been so busy and didn't had time for writing. Hope you haven't given up on me. 🥺 Anyway, have fun! This chapter was made with a lot of love. 💖

Texts in italics are memories or thoughts!

Warnings: Slight smut (sexual tension and abstinence); fluffy. A bit of angst. | This fanfiction will have some dark content in the future chapters. Read at your own risk. +18 only, please.

Tag list: @xiernia; @thefanficmonster; @theclassycandy.

The shower water was pouring above his head as he incessantly thought about Y/N. Was almost time to work, and Sang-Woo wasn’t totally awake yet. The warm water ran down on his naked body, his muscles relaxing slowly, not even noticing the time passing. With his mouth slight open and his closed eyes, there was him, remembering that uncommon end of the day.

“Thank you for the conversation, Mr. Cho”, she said, a bit shy, but never stopping that beautiful smile of hers. “You made me happier today”

Why can’t he simply forget about her, a strange woman he met on a train station? For an unknown reason, she had been on his thoughts since last weekend – suddenly, because on the other days he could barely remember her name, although the good sensations were unforgettable. Already passed three weeks since the first and last time he saw her.

But was the way her words touched him. The way her smile made something burn in his chest, the way her scent made him inebriate.

These pretty, sweet lips.

“Y/N...”, he said in a whisper. He could be in negation, but probably was missing her. Sometimes, he was startled by the sudden memory of her scent, as if she were beside him. He has a funny thought about it – which is ironic, because he's not into these types of belief. But thinking she was a ghost, spirit or even an illusion makes sense. He's so much lonely. Maybe was going crazy. At least, is what his mother would say.

He smiled, finally opening his pretty eyes. Turned off the shower and began to dry his body, first on his abdomen and slowly lowered his hand until he reached that part he had not touched for a while. Fuck, how he wanted to be stimulated right now. He didn't had sex was few months, because he's too busy with work to go out on a date with someone. Now, he's certain feeling the symptoms of it.

Well, but he couldn't jerk-off right now. He must be presentable to teach for more than ten hours. And remembering it just pisssed him off. He sighed, while looking at the mirror. Gently, he passed the hand through his wet hair; and then, went to his room. Sang-Woo was dressed properly: the traditional and formal suit. This style of dressing is one of his outstanding features.

Looked at the clock. 6 AM. Already ready, was time to go working.

“Sometimes I feel like... The time is passing too fast, Mr. Cho”, Y/N told him. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I do. There’s something in particular that bothers you?”, he asked. She looked a bit startled because of his question. Sang-Woo was going to apologize, then she spoke first.

“Uhn, uhn... People says that I-I'm too much... quiet. It interferes with my... relationships.”

She said nervously. And then he understood what she was trying to say. But, of course, pretending not to. Smiling, just said:

“It’s okay, girl. Everything in its time. But never stop being yourself, you’re lovely.”

He could even remember the way she lowered her head, adorably shy with the compliment. This gesture happens frequently, he noticed. And loved it.

After a few hours of class, it was finally time for lunch. Being a professor is not so easy. Fortunately, Cho Sang-Woo is incredibly patient, intelligent and exceptional in everything he does. His intelligence, elegance and gentle personality draws a lot of attention, that's undeniable. Frequently, even the women working at the university flirted with him. And always, like a busy man, he politely declined the many filthy invitations.

Walking through the university corridors during his break, there were so many students that it was impossible not to bump into each other. With apologizes here and there, a familiar silhouette passed briefly by his side, like a flash of light. Sang-Woo saw its hair moving from the wind and the movement. And then, he smelled that scent.

His heart raced. Y/N’s scent. Couldn’t be just a remembrance now, could it?

He looked around, and saw nothing that he could recognize.

Jesus, I’m going crazy.

Again, he stood still because of her, staring at nothing. He was in a cold sweat, with a strange anxiety, his eyes wide open. Sang-Woo might never understand why he has been feeling these things due to a stranger. Maybe he truly believed now she's a ghost.

“Professor Cho, are you okay?”, his student asked when saw Cho Sang-Woo acting unusually. He snapped back to reality, realizing that he was yet on the corridor.

“Y-Yes, I am. Thank you.”

“Miss Y/L/N, how your project is going?”, Y/N’s teacher asked her. “Is everything okay with it?”

“Yes. Everything perfect, as expected.”

Y/N is the student who represents her class. Despite taking people's opinions into consideration, she chose to study something she really loves. And she dedicated herself to that, as joining the SNU was not easy. Society is very competitive and after many sleepless nights of hard study, she finally managed to enter the university of her dreams.

“So, please, give me the report at the end of class.”

Y/N assented, paying attention at the clock. Her class were organizing a debate and it will be presented on the yard of the college. Y/N barely started to organize and was already tired. These events always drain her energy. Fortunately, the weekend is coming and she will have time to rest. She was intending to visit someone who’s special for her, too.

But the days are always looking the same. Oh, she deluded herself when thought meeting that man of a train could change her life. Because she felt different emotions at that day. And God forgive it, but Y/N really thinks that Sang-Woo is hot as hell.

And she blushed because of thinking about it. What a perverted! He’s probably the same age as my father!

The day was almost ending and was possible to notice the twilight through the large windows of the college. Y/N hurried to get to the staff room, hoping that at least one of her teachers would there. Her small boots heels were tinkling as she walked quickly, starting to feel desperate. It is an important document.

Finally, she arrived to the staffroom. Y/N sighed and she bowed respectfully, not even checking who was there or not.

“Here’s the report. I’m sorry I deliver it so late”.

When she returned to posture, she saw him. She almost dropped the documents. It was him. Cho Sang-Woo. She couldn't believe her eyes. What was he doing there? He was supposed to be one of those people you see once and never again.

And Sang-Woo got shocked too. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating at all. They looked at each other for long seconds, in silence. He was sitting next to her teacher at a table, enjoying a coffee.

“Hello, Ms. Y/N?”, the voice of the teacher woke her up from her shock. Y/N not even noticed her before, but gave to her the document and said goodbye quickly.

She ran to the university exit gate, still in shock. Stopped for a while to take a deep breath, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Y/N?”

She turned around, and it really was him. Y/N didn't know what she was feeling at the moment, but felt a strange urge to hug him tightly. Of course, she controlled herself not to do it.

“M-Mr. Cho... What you’re doing in h-”

“I work here, Miss Y/N. I’m a professor”, he said, with an evident anxiety. They both were nervous and scared by the situation. “And you are a student... right?”

“Yes, Mr. Cho.”

“I didn't know that. I’m surprised with that... weird fate.”

“Me too, Mr. Cho.” Y/N said, and they were again on that familiar silence. They wanted to tell a lot of things to each other, but no one had enough courage. Sang-Woo couldn’t stop admiring her innocent eyes. She seems so sweet like that.

“I’m going to the train station. Will you join me, Miss Y/N?”, Sang-Woo finally asked, already disturbed by the silence.

“Y-Yes! Yes. I’m going too. Will be nice!”

And they walked together to their destination. They took a train, but haven’t talked so much this time. Weren’t uncomfortable, although. Both were a good company to each other.

Well, but he really wanted to make her laugh, saying he just abandoned his car at the parking lot today.

[reidgraygubler]

sweet creature (wes/reader) pt 6

Title: Sweet Creature part six Request: yes/no Couple: Wes/Fem!Reader Category: slowburn (will contain 18+ content) Content Warning: Sexual Content (masturbation (male), corruption kink, innocence kink), sexual thoughts, swearing, drinking, mild possession, petnames (wes refers to reader as puppy), wes’ pov  Word Count: 2,989 Summary: Puppy and some members of the clinic go out for drinks after work. Wes has a few realizations about his employee. A/N: ‘ight, this is the first chapter that contains actual sexual content, and this happens to be one of my favorite chapters. i really hope y’all enjoy this part as much as i do! thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

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Part of me wondered why I thought it’d be a good idea to get drinks with a few of the people from the clinic after work. Sometimes I wondered why I did a lot of things. Especially like getting drinks after a long day. Was it to just relax? Or was it because of someone? Seeing someone... A girl... A certain… particular… girl?

Whatever the reason was, it should not have been what made me go to the bar after work. The day I had was incredibly long, and it felt as if it would never end. Although maybe getting drinks with a few coworkers would be a good idea. Letting loose as we had a conversation about anything that crossed our minds. Maybe I’ll find a girl or person to take home and…

Not the person I would want to take home. Just a random person who seems… Intriguing enough to me. Someone to take my mind off the girl I actually want. Someone who can just… Help me with a situation I've been struggling with for the last few weeks.

I suppose it was probably a good thing I joined the rest of the clinic to get drinks. It was a nice way to let loose, as some would say. Of course, I wouldn’t get wasted to the point of not knowing where I was or who I am. Just enough to inebriate me.

My Puppy however had different plans. Because by the time I got to the bar, she was on her 3rd shot and who knows how many drinks, or fancy cocktails she had. She was so far gone, I was mildly worried about how she’d get home and if she’d get home safely. Of course, she would. She knew better than to just leave totally wasted.

Jessica, on the other hand, was very sober. She probably only had a drink or two. Maybe she’d be the one to take Puppy home. All I knew was I didn’t have to worry because she would be in good hands if Jessica was the one to take her home.

“Wes! Wes!” Puppy shouted as I approached her and Jessica at the bar. I smiled as I held my beer close to my body. Jessica tried keeping the girl at bay as I got closer to them.

God, I thought. She’d kill me if she knew I called her Puppy. She’s cute, adorable, and clueless like a little pup who was new to the world. She was a bit of a klutz, like pups who were new to the world and learning to walk on wobbly legs. Puppy suited her. Puppy was how I referred to her whenever I thought about her… Puppy is who she is. But I’d never mention it to her.

“You having a good time?” I asked as I looked right at Puppy. She hummed happily before taking a sip of her brightly colored cocktail. I partly wondered if she knew that her mouth was going to be as bright as her drink was.

“Jess… Jess said that I could be the drinker since I’m always Designated Driver,” she shouted as she nearly toppled over. I smiled and nodded as I kept my eyes on her. All the words that left her mouth slurred together into one long, mess of a word. Thankfully I was fairly fluent in drunk 20-something-year-old to translate what she was saying. Because, one upon a time, I was a drunk 20-something-year-old who partied with other drunk 20-something-year-olds. “So I’m-”

“Wasted?” I teased. Puppy shouted as she looked at me with wide eyes. A smile quickly donned her lips though as she fell into my body. I looked at her with wide eyes as I caught her to hold her upright. She grasped my shoulders as she looked at my face. The dazed expression she wore on her face made me smile as I looked at her.

“Oh please, Weswee! I’m not wasted!” She shouted as she got closer to my face. I stared right at her before looking over at Jessica, a silent plea for help. Jessica stayed silent as she watched our friend hang on to me. I didn’t mind the Pup hanging on me, I just wished she wasn’t as drunk as she was.

“Babes, I’m willing to argue that you are indeed wasted,” I laughed as she wrapped her arms around my torso. I looked up as she pressed her face into my chest.

It was in the blink of an eye did she go from just holding on to me to actually leaning on me for support. However, I couldn't complain. It was a good thing she smelled like flowers and baby powder and a mixture of alcohol. I wished her scent could stay with me for the night. But the time being will be okay.

“Okay, okay, we should get going,” Jessica finally said something after a moment of the girl hanging off me. I pretended to be upset as the girl got off me, although it didn't take much pretending. I looked between her and Jessica as she got her bearings together.

“Fine! Fine! We can go! Even though I don’t want to,” she scoffed as she lifted her glass to her lips to take one last sip of it. I walked out with them, making sure they got to Jessica’s car.

“Make sure she gets home safe, please, Jess,” I ordered as I looked at Jessica. A smirk grew across Jessica’s lips as she glanced at me.

“What? It’s not like you’re her daddy,” she mused as she pulled Puppy in an upright position. I sighed and closed my eyes. It was hard not to get aggravated with her snarky comment, but I let it slide… This time.

“Please, Jess…”

“What?! I will! She’ll get there!”

“I’ll send you a text when I get to bed,” Puppy slurred as she looked up at me. I stared at her for a moment, my concern only growing more as I looked at her. A goofy smile settled on her lips and a dreamy expression in her eyes as she looked at me. I know she had no clue that she was looking at me the way she was… And it was adorable.

Although, I knew the adorableness wouldn’t last long. I had a sneaking suspicion that she’d be calling in tomorrow with a hangover, and I was already ready to allow it. Anything to make her happy.

“That better be a promise, Babes,” I said as I looked right at her. She lazily smiled at me before giving me a thumbs up. I nodded, watching as Jessica ushered the girl away and towards her car.

My eyes stayed glued to the pair as Jessica nearly fought Puppy into the car. When they were finally driving away, I found myself back inside the bar, leaning against the counter with another drink in hand. Okay, I wasn’t going home with the girl or any girl for that matter. I didn’t need that or her. And that’s fine.

Once my drink was gone, I fished out my keys and made way for the front door and my car. Part of me wondered if Puppy knew that I wanted her in the ways I wanted her. Probably not, I’ve learned to hide those emotions when the person I’m feeling them for is around. I knew she had those thoughts or feelings towards me. The number of times I’ve caught her staring at me because she was lost in a daydream… It’s probably a good thing I haven’t told her that number. She’d probably want to curl into a hole and die.

But see, as I’ve said… I learned. I learned to keep it hidden deep down till I was away from her. And when I was sure I was alone in the safety of my bedroom or bathroom or just alone, I could relieve myself with the thought of having my way with the girl who was my assistant. The power dynamic was wrong. But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about her, and how she would whine and beg and cry and moan. I couldn’t stop imagining her beautiful little moans.

“Stop that,” I muttered to myself as I walked away from my car. The moments between me exiting my car and entering my home felt like literal hours. Although I knew it was just a few brief seconds. Then I would be in the shower, the water hot as all Hell, and my fingers around my dick.

It was awful… Terrible...

Puppy>Me: Made it home!

I stared at the text for a moment, watching a bubble appear and disappear a few times before ultimately disappearing for good, and then an image appeared.

Puppy>Me: {One Image Attached} See here’s proof!

And attached to her text was an image of her. She was standing in her bathroom, her phone in hand, with her other hand carefully pushing the hem of her shirt. She wasn’t wearing pants, so her bare leg was visible, as was a sliver of her stomach. There was an obnoxious tightness growing in my jeans, and I was so happy that I was in the privacy of my home.

“I’m so going to hell,” I muttered as my eyes drifted to her leg or her stomach, or her breasts. I tried so hard not to look… She looked so… comfortable. I suppose she would be, or at least should be, in her own home.

Me>Puppy: I didn’t need the proof, but it is appreciated. I’ll see you tomorrow? Bright and early?

Puppy>Me: I don’t know, Doctah Taylah... I feel a cold comin’...

I smirked and shook my head. Good thing I saw that coming. I’m sure if Kurt had gotten that message he would have forced her to go in early and do double the work, or made her life hell. But see, that's the good thing… I’m not Kurt. I’m better than him.

Me>Puppy: That’s alright. Take tomorrow off. Take care of yourself, Babes xo

Puppy>Me: Ooo A KISS?! FOR ME!?!

Me>Puppy: sleep tight, Babes

My eyes stayed glued to the picture of her for a moment longer before I slipped my phone into my back pocket. I made sure to quickly greet Ollie as I walked through the house to find my way to the bathroom. Ollie deserved more attention than what I gave him, but I had… other matters to take care of. Surely he’d understand.

My phone buzzed a few more times as I undressed, but I wasn’t going to look or answer them. She should be asleep, I already bid goodnight to her. Part of me knew that it was Puppy, she was too drunk to know when to stop.

The blood rush I had only worsened when I removed my jeans. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. It wasn’t the first time it’s happened either. And it won’t be the last. When it happened before, I was able to ignore it. This time it was worse. I had to do something to remedy this situation.

Giving up on waiting for the heat of the water, I jumped into the shower, feeling the water splash against my skin. A soft groan fell from my lips as the water warmed me up.

Ignoring my issue I quickly washed myself, starting with my hair before lathering myself with soap. Only when all the suds were washed away did I take care of my ever growing issue.

As I wrapped my fingers and hand around my hard cock, I imagined it was her hand, or her mouth, or her tight cunt. I imagined how she’d feel. Her delicate hand cautiously moving back and forth along my length occupied my mind. The hesitance she had as she wearily picked up speed.

Although my mind wandered back to the picture she had sent. I wanted nothing more than to touch her in ways I probably shouldn't. I wanted to move my hands along her inner thigh, feeling the softness of her skin. I wanted to push up her shirt and touch her tummy and her breasts. My thoughts grew more… remorseless the longer I stroked my length.

I wanted to rip her panties and shirt off and push her over the counter and fuck her till she was screaming in pleasure, till she wanted more… I wanted her to come back to me, begging me to fuck her again and again and again, and then some...

“Fuck,” I groaned as I finished into my hand. The taste of her name remained on my lips and tongue once I was totally finished. I was left trying to catch my breath and with my hand still around my cock.

Then came the guilt...

I hated that there was a guilt that came after I did that. She doesn’t deserve this. She should be working for someone else if I’m having these sort of thoughts about her. Granted, I know for a fact that she’s done the same thing. She thinks she’s slick, but she isn’t.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I looked at my hand. The substance that was slipping down my hand started getting sticky and cold. By the time I realized what I had just done, the water was running very cold… But I had to clean up again… I had to wash away the sudden guilt and dirtiness I felt.

The girl was young. She had a simple infatuation with me. It’ll go away with time. She’s still learning about life at that tender age of 24. I was still learning at that age. Which would mean, I should know better. I’m her superior, her boss. I’m older and more “mature”. Jerking off to the thought of my innocent employee was wrong… Hell it was more than wrong. I should have known better. I’m going to hell.

Maybe her not coming to work in the morning would be a blessing. I don’t think seeing her after this situation would help me in any way. She’s pretty good at reading people, so I’m sure she’d be able to read the guilt I had.

I felt awful. It was terrible. I woke up with a splitting headache and no Aleve to help it. My water bottle would be my best friend for the rest of the day. I’d probably have to stop at McDonalds or something to get food before I get to the clinic.

“I’m never drinking that much again,” I muttered as I slipped out of bed and made my way towards the bathroom. The pounding headache I had didn’t stop me, but it sure as hell slowed me down.

As I got ready for the day, I sent a text to Jessica and Wes, asking if they wanted anything from McDonalds. Only to be stopped by the texts I had sent to Wes last night. Thankfully they weren’t too bad, and he had stopped answering me. But goddamn… If he doesn’t know about my crush now… Then that man was more than blind.

I opted to not text him and just get him what I thought he’d like. I’m sure he’d like whatever it was I got him anyway. In fact, I knew he’d like whatever I got him because I told him I probably wasn’t going to even go in today… But I got bills I have to pay…

I quickly finished getting ready, bid Nova a farewell, before leaving for the day. Something about the day already felt off, and I didn’t like it. I tried not to think about it, but there was just this looming feeling of something off. Whatever. I’m sure it was just me.

After I got breakfast for me, Jessica, and Wes, I quickly drove to the clinic. With my hands filled with bags of fast food and my backpack, I entered the building. I was first greeted by Jessica.

“Woah, you look… awful,” she said as she looked at me. I shot her a glare as I placed her bag of food on the counter. She quickly dove into it, grabbing her hashbrown and taking a bite from it. “I thought you weren’t coming in today?”

“I wasn’t going to. But, bills,” I sighed as I leaned against the counter. I took a long sip of my bitter coffee and looked over at her. “I should just become a stripper,” I said a little too loudly. Jessica looked at me with a raised brown before nodding behind me. I closed my eyes and slouched my shoulders. “Let me guess… My boss is behind me?”

“Yep,” Jessica replied as she looked down at the counter.

“And he heard everything I just said… Including me becoming a stripper?” I asked. I could feel a blaze grow across my face as soon as Wes spoke.

“Sure did,” he said in a low tone. I kept my eyes shut as I turned to face him. I lifted my hand and handed him his bag of food. “You told me you weren’t coming in today?” He asked as he took the food from me.

“Bills,” was all I answered with. I looked up at him and noted that he was staring at me. I stared back and shrugged. “And I knew you’d be lost without me,” I cooed as I looked up at him.

“I think I’d be more lost with you, Babes,” Wes sighed as he swiped my coffee from me. I let out a sound as I watched him take a sip.

“Hey! That’s mine!” I shouted at him.

“I think I did you a favor. This is terrible,” he cringed as he dropped the coffee cup in the trash can. I looked back at him with wide eyes. “Go make something better in the break room,” he said and nodded towards said room.

“Also… What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You’d be more lost with me?!” I looked up at him as he took the lead towards the break room.

“Oh, it… I meant… Nothing… It means nothing,” he lied. I only knew he lied because of his tone. I stared at him as I sat at the table. He quietly got to work making me a new cup of coffee.

“Sure, sure you meant it by nothing,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Wes smirked as he placed the coffee cup on the table beside me.

“Hush up and eat your food and drink your coffee,” he said as he sat across from me. I shot him a glare before pulling out my pancakes.

“Fine… Only because you said so.”

if you have any questions or comments about this part (or series) let me know here! 

Part Seven

[lokust]

Drunken Mischief

I swear I’m working on the follow up to the last story but this was in my brain and demanded to be written so enjoy.

—

——

“Mobius… Mobius, come on! Won’t you have a drink with me?”

Loki had been begging Mobius to have even just a few shots with him for what seemed like hours, and he was determined to get a yes.

Mobius had rolled his eyes at the God’s question, finally giving in, “Yes, Loki I will have a drink with you. One drink, alright? I know how you get”.

Loki furrowed his eyebrows and put his hands up in a defensive gesture, “How I ‘get’? I don’t ‘get’ any type of way, thank you very much. I can handle my alcohol”.

…..

Well, he could have handled his alcohol 4 tequila shots and 3 martinis ago, but Mobius had stayed true to his word and only had one drink himself.

Loki, on the other hand, was flushed red in the face and stumbling around as he attempted to make himself yet another martini.

He was all over the place, giggling up a storm and singing some song that Mobius was sure didn’t even exist until Loki started singing it.

Sure, it was wholesome to see the God so carefree and happy, and giggling, but Mobius couldn’t let him keep drinking.

“Hey- Hey, Loki, maybe you’ve had enough, yeah? A sober Loki is difficult enough, I can only imagine how difficult you must be when you’re off your ass”, he spoke, carefully pulling the bottle of Gin from the God’s hands.

Loki was too gone to really do much more other than reach for the bottle as it was taken from him, “Why…”, he whined out drunkenly, “Why have you taken it from me?”

Mobius huffed out a small laugh, “You’ve been cut off for the night. Pour yourself some water- wait, don’t. You’ll spill it. Let me pour you some water”.

Loki grumbled as he leaned against Mobius in his inebriated state, “I don’t want water, I want another martini”.

The analyst rolled his eyes, “And I want to be in Panama City with a personal water craft and a God who evidently cannot handle a couple martinis. You’re getting water”.

Loki groaned, “You never let me have any fun, Mobius. Lighten up~”, he slurred, tugging at the sleeve of Mobius’s jacket and pinching the agent’s cheek.

Mobius swatted Loki’s hand away from his face and picked up the pitcher of water that sat on the round table. He poured a decent amount into a small cup as Loki continued to pester him, “Drink that”, he said, putting the cup in front of his friend.

Said friend huffed, “I’m not drinking it”.

Mobius rolled his eyes and put his hand on his hip as he tapped his foot impatiently, “Drink the water, Loki”.

The taller of the two crossed his arms over his chest and turned his nose up, “No”, he said stubbornly, only to yelp when Mobius poked him in the ribs as a warning.

“Drink. It”.

Loki smiled a very drunk smile, “Make. Me”.

For a moment, Mobius was frustrated, and he was prepared to unleash every bit of his frustration and make Loki drink the water like the God himself had suggested, but suddenly, it hit him.

Loki was drunk, and happy, and very intentionally provoking Mobius with his stubborn act, and Mobius saw it in the way Loki braced himself when he told Mobius to “make him”.

Mobius’s face fell from one of agitation to a small smirk, “No”, he said, watching Loki’s very poor defense fall as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“No? What- Fine. Then I just don’t have to drink the water”, he crossed his arms again with another small huff as he looked away from Mobius, his expression slowly turning into a grumpy pout.

Mobius just shrugged, “Alright. Fine by me, big guy. I’ll be having a seat right over there. You’re welcome to join me”, he said, gesturing to the small brown sofa before smiling innocently at Loki and moving across the room to sit down.

Loki was baffled. Mobius usually got frustrated enough to pin him down and make him squeal like a child within a couple moments of his stubborn antics. Not that he wanted that. He just didn’t understand the sudden change. Yeah.

He stood for just a moment, soaking in his own befuddlement at what had just happened before he just went back to being drunk and stubborn, “I know what you’re doing”, he said matter-of-factly.

Mobius glanced over his shoulder at the tall God, “Mm, really? What’s that?”, he asked innocently.

Loki just grumbled, “You’re acting like you don’t care to get me to drink it”, he said, sounding incredibly similar to a child who didn’t get his way.

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?”, he asked, “Or are you acting like this to get a reaction out of me?”

Loki stomped his way over to Mobius very angrily, “I am not acting like anything”, he said, plopping down on the sofa beside his friend.

“Oh you’re not?”, he teased, prodding and poking at Loki’s sides and watching his eyes light up as he curled uselessly away from the small attack.

Loki shook his head through an outburst of giggles, drunkenly swatting at the hands that were tazering his sides, “Gehehet ohohohoff!”

Mobius chuckled and pulled Loki closer to him, “No”, he said, wrapping one arm around his friend’s hip to keep him in place, “Honestly, Loki, we need to have a lesson in asking for the things we want, but we’ll save that for another time. Right now, it’s about getting you sobered up”.

Loki’s eyes widened as he writhed in Mobius’s grip.

“Now”, the agent started, “You’ll either laugh yourself back to sobriety or you’ll call for mercy and drink the water”.

Loki’s breath hitched in his throat, but he had no time to protest as Mobius pushed him down against the sofa and tickled relentlessly at his belly and sides.

Mobius refused fo hold back, knowing it was what Loki was going for anyway.

“SHIHIHIHIHIT! IHIHIHIHI- NOHOHOHOHO! Nononono nohohohoho!”, he squirmed weakly in Mobius’s hold, feeling a hand slip underneath his shirt and crawl all the way up his side to scratch at his ribs.

He squealed and pushed at the hand that was keeping him down on his back while trying to wiggle away from the one skittering at his top ribs, “Nohohohot thehehehere! Mobius! Nohohohoho!”

Mobius hummed, “Not there? How about… here?”, he asked teasingly, pulling Loki’s shirt up and suddenly leaning down to blow a loud raspberry in the center of the God’s belly.

Loki squealed and arched his back as he tugged at Mobius’s blond hair, “WAHAHAHAIT! NOHOHOHOHO! GO BAHAHAHACK!”, he kicked and pleaded but he just couldn’t fight it as intoxicated as he was.

Mobius blew a couple more raspberries before letting up a little and using both hands to scratch and spider as quickly and as gently as he could manage at Loki’s sides, “Oh, how nice of you to try to get closer to me. Really makes this easier, you know?”

Loki shook his head frantically, laughing away as Mobius’s fingertips crawled up his sides to his top rib, teasing just above it before clawing all the way back down both sides to pinch at the lanky man’s hipbones.

Loki was beside himself and his nerves were on fire, but he knew he brought it on himself. He was almost glad he was so drunk, otherwise Mobius would’ve definitely recognized the bright blush on his cheeks.

He slapped and swatted weakly at his captor’s hands as he curled in on himself pitifully, feeling Mobius slip his hands back around to spider and scribble around the fleshy area of his belly.

His back arched and he kicked his feet a bit, but he didn’t know what to do with himself. “MOHOHOHOBIUS ITS NOHOHOT FAHAHAIR!”, he whined through his cackles as he rolled over on his stomach and tried to crawl away.

“Nope, get back here”, he said, pulling Loki back towards him by the trickster’s hips, “You’re not goin anywhere, my inebriated friend”.

Loki groaned as his sides and ribs were attacked while he lay face down on the sofa, “Plehehehease! I cahahan’t!”, he hiccuped and snorted through his incessant giggling, reaching behind himself to push at Mobius’s wrists.

“I yieheheld!! Ihihihi yield!”, he exclaimed as his giggles began to sound more exhausted.

Mobius stopped, rubbing his back soothingly, “You gonna drink the water now?”

Loki nodded with a small breathy hum as he couldn’t find it in himself to do anything more.

Mobius walked to the small table to retrieve the cup before he helped Loki sit up and drink it, which he did in nearly one gulp.

Loki set the cup aside and leaned against his companion, grumbling about how unfair that ordeal was.

Mobius just chuckled, “You love it”.

Loki scoffed, his face heating up once more, “I do not, yo-”,

Mobius put a finger to his lips and shushed him, “Shhh, you’ll hurt yourself stumbling over your lies. Just relax”.

Loki huffed as he stayed silent. In his mind, it was to spite Mobius.

“Maybe next time, we can work on learning how to ask when you want me to tickle you instead of provoking it by refusing to treat yourself after getting so drunk you can barely stand, yeah?”

Loki wasn’t even listening. He was drunk, and he was exhausted. He heard the “yeah?” at the end of Mobius’s sentence and agreed senselessly with a nod and a hum, promptly curling up to fall asleep against Mobius.

Mobius chuckled and shook his head, but he let Loki sleep regardless, knowing the trickster was comfortable right where he was as he rubbed the God’s back soothingly.

And if anything good came of this, it was that Mobius no longer had to imagine how difficult a drunk Loki could be.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

A scene where Jaskier is getting drunk as a skunk when Yennefer shows up by his table. And he decides to confide to her but makes her promise not to tell Yennefer. She agrees to see when he’s going with this and he drunkenly rambles about how great she is. “But don’t tell Yennefer she’ll turn me to a toad. I’m too pretty to be turned into a toad!” Yennefer pats his silly head.

THIS IS SO CUTE! One-shot incoming!

--

"...And she's just soooo lovely!" Jaskier rambled about one Yennefer of Vengerberg, completely unaware that the beautiful lady he'd been blathering to, leaning drunkenly on her shoulder, was the very same witch he'd been going on about. His not recognizing Yennefer came not from any unusual glamour or shape-shifting - no, Jaskier was just that drunk.

"Oh, is she now?" Yennefer played along, leaning her head to the side as she looked at the far-beyond-tipsy bard. She hadn't expected Jaskier to start blabbering drunkenly about her right to her face, but when he told her not to tell Yennefer about what he was going to say - "Don't tell Yenny. Orrr tell Geralt, 'cuz then he'll tell Yenny! A big mess, that would be." he'd said - Yennefer decided not to make any effort to tell Jaskier who exactly she was talking to. Drunk words are sober thoughts after all, and the mage was curious.

(And quite frankly, she wasn't quite sure if she could convince Jaskier that it was her in front of him, or rather, at his side as he leaned against her shoulder, but this narrator digresses.)

But she expected to hear bardly insults and drunken digs at her that he hadn't said to her face yet, not the praise pouring out of his mouth right now.

"Mhm! Her hair is so smooth and silky, and I just looove when moonlight shines off of it. And her eyes! Oh, the most vibrant of amethyst!" Jaskier said, shaking his head to try to get his hair off his face. He following his praise with a hiccup and a giggle.

"And her voice is sooo nice to listen to! It's even prettier than mine, and that's saying alot!" He continued. Yennefer held back a petty remark - "I don't think it says much at all, really." She might have said. - that might have led him on to realize who he was talking to. She liked listening to him sing her praises. Or rather, blather them drunkenly.

"Is it? Hm?"

"Ooooh, yes it is!" Jaskier said with raised eyebrows, as if it was the most urgent of statements to confirm. "Even when she's being mean, it sounds like heaven! I quite like when she's mean, actually. It's sexy. But when she's sweet..."

He twirled his finger around the rim of his pint, staring at the splash of ale that still remained.

"...I really like that too. It's adooorable. But... methinks she'd curse me if I told her." Jaskier said, sounding more disappointed in how he thought he could never say these things to her than he was scared at the possibility of a curse.

"I don't think so, darling." Yennefer assured him. Jaskier only shrugged with a hum.

"...I wanna marry 'er someday, y'know. But I can't."

Yennefer couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wouldn't have been able to if he was sober, she thought, but hearing it while the bard was drunk off his ass made it all but incredulous.

Still, she smiled, smitten.

"Well, why ever not? I don't know of any laws forbidding the union of mages and bards."

Jaskier, as drunk as he still was, seemed almost shocked by such a question, as if it were incredulous. To the inebriated bard, it apparently was.

"How could I? She's incredible! Glorious! How could I ever get down one knee and ask her for her hand in marriage? To spend the rest of her life with me of all people?"

"Oh, you of all people?" She egged on.

"Yes, ridiculous, isn't it? I'm sitting here, all... drunken-like," He gestured to himself and his pint in a way that was little more than just waving his hand around in front of him. "And she's probably off somewhere doing something amaaazing, like killing a monster, or using some spell to take some dickbag mage's cock off his body, or something. Something phenomenal, just like her."

He laughed softly to himself.

"Sheee's a, sheee's a laaady..." he sang to himself, "and Iiii am juuust a baaard..."

Oh, no. He was drunk-singing now - a clear indicator that it was high time for him to retire.

Yennefer scooted out of the booth, much to Jaskier’s dismay as he lolled to the side.

“I think you’ve had enough, bard.” She gently urged, holding out her  hands, “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs.”

“Oooohoohoohoohoooooh!” Jaskier huffed his usual indecorous laugh. “No, no, no, Madame! I will not bed with you! My love belongs to another, did you not hear me just now?”

Yennefer tilted her head, holding back an exasperated huff. Wow, he really was drunk off his ass.

“Not to bed you, to take you to your room. Your Witcher’s been waiting for you since he came back from his hunt.”

Jaskier raised his eyebrows a bit and nodded, seeming to recognize such circumstances.

“Ooooh, right, right, yeah.” He nodded as he put his hands in her outstretched ones. “Your hands... they’re soft like hers.”

Yennefer pulled him to his feet, “I try.”

Jaskier was indeed plenty intoxicated, so she wrapped an arm around his waist and started guiding him upstairs.

“Oooh, handsy!”

“I’m not handsy.” she huffed as she continued to take him up, “Just making sure you don’t fall on your arse.”

“So cold...” Jaskier mumbled as he hung his head, “Just like my darling witch.”

“I’m not surprised.” she told him as she found the room Geralt had rented for himself and Jaskier. He couldn’t think her a stranger for too much longer, could he?

Before she knocked on the door, the drunken bard spoke up again.

“Remember, you can’t tell Yennefer what I said. Nooo, no no!” He reminded her as he brought a finger up.

“Don’t. Tell. Yenny.” He booped her nose with each word.

Yennefer was passive to the pokes to her nose; such must have insured, to the inebriated musician leaning against her, that this stranger could not have been Yennefer, for Yennefer would have cursed his member to a thimble’s size if he’d tried to tap her on the nose like that.

“Otherwise,” his eyes widened, “She might turn me into a toad. I’m too pretty to be a toad!”

Yennefer, still endeared by the bard (he was plenty adorable when he was sober, but he’d been especially amusing in this drunken state), brought up a free hand and pat his head.

What a silly, silly bard he was.

“You won’t have to worry about that.” She assured him.

Jaskier nodded, which was more or less just his head lolling back and forth at this pont.

“Aaalright, if you say so.” He accepted as he started to nod off against her side, using her head more or less like a pillow. Yennefer grunted under the weight as Jaskier, quickly blacking out, started to slip into unconsciousness. She moved her free hand to knock on the door of Geralt’s room.

Melitele’s tits, Jaskier was heavy.

She heard footsteps approach the other side of the door until the room’s current, Witchery inhabitant opened it. Geralt stood there, armor having just been removed, looking at the two with a raised eyebrow.

“Geralt, your bard’s drunk.”

[clairecrive]

1k congrats, could I make a request for Tommy Conlon I love the way you write him. Y/n lives in the same apartment building as him and obviously has a crush on him but would never think he would be interested in her. He is actually really into y/n but whenever he hints at anything she shys away. They become friendly and she is out on a girls night and he is in the same bar. Her 'friend' knows how she feels about him but is all over him like a rash. He sees her talking to a man and feels kind of rejected and kisses her "friend" in the bar and she sees. She is gutted and leaves early saying she is tired. He follows her saying he doesn't want her to walk home on her own he knows she is hurt and that he made a mistake. if you can come up with a smutty ending for them that would be the icing on the cake

Hottie next door

a/n: hi ya! thank you so much for requesting! This turned out a full imagine so you’ll find everything under the cut. Hope you like it x

Word count: 1.1k

Tag: mention of smut, fluff, mild angst

"Shit, shit, shit," were the words y/n had been repeating like a mantra since her alarm went off that morning. Well- since she woke up and looking at the time on her phone realizing then that her alarm hadn't got off and she was now going to be late for work, actually.

Rushing out of her apartment, after throwing some clothes and barely eating breakfast, she took the stairs knowing that if she had to wait for the elevator she'd be even more late.

The elevator in her building was incredibly old and besides not working well, it had manual doors that you had to open and close. Since they were heavy, most of the people in the building had troubles closing them meaning that the elevator signalled that it had someone inside when really it was just the doors that weren't closed.

It was annoying on a normal day and even more now that she was late and barely awake but she knew that at some point she'd be grateful for the exercise.

What you were sure you'd never be grateful for was the fact that your poor excuse of an elevator brought you to almost smash into your hot neighbour. He luckily caught you just in time before you'd inevitably crashed into him so that at least wasn't a problem.

What was definitely a problem was your dishevelled appearance and how your faces were uncomfortably close and you weren't wearing any makeup.

"Wow, what's on fire?"

"Sorry Tommy, I'd love to stay here and chat but I'm late for work. See ya." y/n hurriedly said looking over her shoulder just to say goodbye to him without coming off as rude but not staying enough to see his reaction to her.

I'd love to stay here and chat? What was that? When the hell have you stayed and chat with him?

That's basically how she spent the time to get to work, chastising herself.

So when her coworker Deborah, asked her if she'd like to meet for drinks that evening she said yes without missing a beat.

Walking into the bar later that night and realizing that her latest crush, otherwise known as the hottie next door Tommy, was there too, made her rethink her decision.

Maybe she shouldn't have come, she thought.

You can't exactly forget an embarrassing situation when the reason for your embarrassment was standing a few feet away, can you?

Then, when she saw her dear friend Debby setting her eyes on Tommy and went to him, she was sure that she had to stay home.

She knows that having a crush on someone that you don't know that well is a bit childish. Yes, she and Tommy saw each other every day and often exchanged pleasantries but that was that. Just two neighbours being nice and polite to each other.

She also knows that she shouldn't this bothered by her friend flirting with him and him showing interest in her.

Sure, Debby was funny and nice but they weren't that close. And she was attractive so who was she to blame Tommy for having eyes?

No one.

Of course, she was none the wiser of Tommy's discomfort or how his conversation with Deborah was one-sided. Not only the straightforward way she came onto him put him on the spot but the fact that he had seen you come in and felt that he was sending you the wrong message.

But how could he let someone down without hurting them?

Y/n also ignored the way he tensed when Debby touched his arm or how his eyes narrowed when he heard you burst out laughing at something one of your coworkers said.

Laughing at someone's joke doesn't mean shit, Tommy reassured himself. Besides, he had no claim on y/n what so ever and he was in a conversation with Deborah instead of going to say hi to her.

He knew he had to find a way to send her on her way and when he saw y/n making her way out of the bar, he had the perfect excuse.

Or maybe not but it wasn't like he cared or anything. He probably won't see this girl again and he certainly hoped so.

"Hey y/n, wait up", he called after her mainly to alter her of his presence. He was athletic and reached her in no time but he didn't want to scare her.

"Oh Tommy, hi" clearing her throat, y/n turned around to face him. Her voice trembled a little and under the nightlight, Tommy could see that her eyes were glossy. They did not shine the way they would if she was inebriated.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah, no I'm not feeling that well so I'm heading home."

"Well, let me accompany you then. You shouldn't walk alone at this hour."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to bother you. I'm sure Deborah is waiting for you inside."

"You know her?"

"Coworker."

"Ah," he hummed shuffling on his feet, "well I'm not sure about her but I wasn't enjoying myself all that much so I'm heading home too."

"You weren't?" y/n sounded surprised, not that Tommy could blame her.  "Could have fooled me", she mumbled under her breath but he heard her anyway.

"Yeah well, the girl I'd want to talk to is going home so I guess I am too." Scratching his chin, he offered without meeting her eyes.

This was the most they had spoken since they first met and oh boy, it was going better than in her wildest dreams.

"Well, in that case, I'm sure she'd not oppose to you coming home with her."

His eyes snapped to her then, never would he have thought that she'd so forward and cheeky but you'd never hear him complain, that was for sure.

"You won't hear me complain either," he assured wetting his lips. Maybe it was the bad illumination but y/n was sure that she'd seen his eyes darken and oh my god, she could thinking nothing but getting him home as soon as possible.

She couldn't tell how long they took or how they even got home. All she knew was the firm pressure of his lips on hers, their unexpected softness, their rough fingers snatching her keys from her hands and quickly opening the door before pushing her against it once it was closed.

As the night progressed, y/n couldn't help but feel grateful to have gone out to that bar. Who would have thought that one night out would have such an impact?

tagging : @sopxhiea, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @fuseburner

[fangirleaconmigo]

Get your soft drunk Geralt makes first love confession right here. Step right up. (He also composes a poem for a very confused Jaskier)

---

Roses are Red also on AO3

“Don’t you just--” Jaskier swooped his hands together and clasped them as though in prayer “--heal?”

He knelt in front of Geralt, who grimaced drunkenly.

The witcher grunted. “T’hell you think witchers are made of?”

“Yes, right. Yes.” said Jaskier.  He’d only been traveling with Geralt for a few months, and he was still learning. “Sorry.” He drummed his fingers absently against his knees.

“Hmmm,” said Geralt.

That one meant ‘it’s fine’. Jaskier knew that one at least. He began to unlace Geralt’s boot.  The witcher had twisted it earlier, and Geralt was still limping. 

“Wanna know a witcher secret?” rumbled Geralt. His voice was even lower and huskier when he was drunk. Jaskier tried to ignore how adorable it was.

“And what would that be?” asked Jaskier, nose crinkled, engrossed in picking apart a stubborn knot.

“Beer‘s the secret to th’healing process,” said Geralt. “Cause--” he waved his hands “mutations.” He inhaled lazily. “Sooooooo more beer please.”

Jaskier looked up at him and squinted dubiously.

“Was...was that a *joke* Geralt?” he asked.

“Hmmmm.” Hummed Geralt in the affirmative.

“Frightening,” whispered Jaskier, as he once again focused on the boot.

Geralt pushed his shoulder gently.

“Ow,” said Jaskier, with a bit more drama than was strictly necessary. “Well, you’ve had quite enough for one night.”

Geralt slumped against the chair defeated.  But Jaskier could feel the witcher’s eyes watching him intently.

“You helped me,” said Geralt. He wasn’t slurring exactly. But the edges of his words fuzzed.

When Geralt had twisted his ankle, Jaskier had helped him onto Roach. He’d also helped the witcher to a table full of drinks, then up the stairs to their room.

“Yes, yes, of course I did,” said Jaskier absently. He ran the tip of his tongue across his top lip as he worked on the boot.  He managed to pull the laces open and loosen the tongue of the boot. He didn’t want to hurt Geralt’s ankle when he removed it.

He felt a finger tangle in his hair and his eyes shot up to Geralt.

“S’ not of course.” Said Geralt. He seemed incredibly serious for being a man who was making no sense. “You’re not of course.” His eyes looked soft and it took Jaskier aback.

Jaskier took the witcher's hand and untangled it from his hair. He lowered it back down to the witcher’s own knee.

“Yes, it is of course.” said Jaskier. “Of course I will always help you. Always.”

Geralt lifted his hand again, only this time he placed his finger on the tip of Jaskier’s nose. It was a silly affectionate gesture that was entirely unexpected from the witcher. It was certainly unprecedented.

“You are friend shaped,” he said.

Geralt being...sweet...and awkwardly touching his nose shouldn’t make him feel so very special, should it? He smiled up at his friend.

“Love you,” said Geralt.

Jaskier froze. 

He couldn’t have heard that correctly. He looked stupidly at Geralt waiting for him to laugh.  But he didn’t. Geralt just kept gazing at him with a soft, tender expression.

That was far more than sweet. That was...well...Geralt had to be hallucinating. “Oh dear inebriated man,” said Jaskier. “I am Jaskier. J-a-s-k-i-e-r. Your annoying bard.”

Geralt chuckled. “Annoying bard.” 

Yeah, that’s what he thought. Perhaps some other time Jaskier  would reckon with the abject disappointment that flooded him. Geralt’s hand slipped down Jaskier’s cheek and back to his own lap.

“Very funny,” said Jaskier. “Hilarious,” he huffed as he gingerly eased Geralt’s puffy ankle from his boot. “I’ll have you know, I wouldn’t fall in love with a monosyllabic primitive witcher anyway. One day I shall marry a poet.”

Geralt made a noise that was a cross between a huff and a bark. Spittle landed on Jaskier’s forearm. He wiped it off with a grimace.

“Stop spitting on me, you oaf,” grumbled Jaskier.  

“Hmph. You think you want a poet.” said Geralt. He giggled. Jaskier had never heard Geralt giggle. Laugh, sure. But giggle? His eyes shot back up to look at the witcher.

The room was dark except for moonlight coming in from the window and a small lantern the innkeeper had lit for them.  It made Geralt’s eyes shine in the flickering light. It made his angular cheekbones soften around the edges. Had Jaskier noticed how beautiful he was before? 

No. No he wasn’t beautiful. He was Geralt. And Geralt was drunk and speaking nonsense.

“And what’s so funny about that?” asked Jaskier, as he gently removed Geralt’s sock. “Poets make wonderful partners.”

Geralt stretched and clasped his fingers behind his neck. Jaskier studiously avoided looking up at the muscular torso laid out in front of him.

“Cause Valdo--” Geralt drew out the troubadours name with a sneering relish, “--turned out so well.” He threw his arms wide in an approximation of a gesture Jaskier made often. He wrinkled his nose and looked defiantly at Jaskier.

Jaskier sputtered. “Oi. I told you that in confidence.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Didn’t. You tell ev-ryone you hate him.”

“Alright, true,” said Jaskier.  He returned his gaze to  Geralt’s ankle, looking carefully for swelling.

Maybe the drunkard was right.  Jaskier had always just assumed that he would one day marry a poet. He wanted a man who complimented him after all. Who adored him.  But he hadn’t enjoyed sharing the spotlight. Maybe two peacocks had been too many for a relationship. 

“You like me,” came Geralt’s voice, slurred and smug.

It shocked him from his reverie and he looked up at Geralt again. Geralt pursed his lips. “Yep,” he said.

“Oh and you’re so sure,” said Jaskier. He began removing Geralt’s other boot.

“Can smell it,” said Geralt. He tilted up his chin.

Godsdamnit. “You can--ugh.” said Jaskier. Fucking of course Geralt could scent lust.  He shook his head. “Well. Fine. You’re an attractive man, I suppose. In a gorgeous, carved of marble, onion smelling, adonis sort of way. If you’re into that sort of thing.” He’d finished taking off Geralt’s other boot and he slapped his own thighs in frustration.

Geralt grinned.

“Yeah well, don’t let your head swell,” Jaskier said.

Geralt raised his eyebrows.

“Gah, you know what I mean.” said Jaskier.  “Don’t get all full of yourself. It’s just lust, Geralt.  I lust after everyone in case you didn’t notice.”

Geralt shook his head. “S’different.  You love me.”

“What the fuck has gotten into you tonight,” groaned Jaskier.  He took the bandage he’d made from one of his tunics and coiled it tightly around the hurt ankle. 

He had just tied off the bandage when he felt Geralt’s solid form lean towards him. He looked up and he was inches from Geralt. He smelled his warm breath, the faint scent of ale and saw the way Geralt was looking at him.  Like he was a treasure.

Geralt’s hands took his face and all he could do was be led to the witcher’s lips.  Sink into them. Find himself dizzy from the abrupt, intense passion. Dissolve into bliss. Understand. 

He slid his hands up Geralt’s thighs and kissed him back. But when Geralt licked into his mouth and he felt his cock begin to respond, he detached himself regretfully. 

A whine escaped Geralt’s soft, open lips. Jaskier wished they didn’t glisten like that in the moonlight. He looked at Jaskier as though wounded.

“Geralt.” Jaskier took both of his hands in his and squeezed them. “This is an ---extremely welcome revelation.” He looked carefully into Geralt’s eyes.

Geralt’s face shaped once again into a smug smile.

“But I am not this kind of cad. You’re drunk. We will talk about this in the morning. Let’s get you to bed.”

Geralt sighed and shrugged.

“Alright.” He heaved himself up to lean against Jaskier.  Geralt probably didn’t need to bring his other hand around to steady himself against Jaskier’s hip, but it certainly warmed Jaskier’s body when he did.

Jaskier leaned over to help Geralt plop into bed.  Geralt flopped onto the mattress. As Jaskier pulled away to find his bedclothes, a strong arm wrapped around his waist and yanked.

Jaskier stumbled and sat down awkwardly on top of the prone tipsy witcher. He twisted around to cup Geralt’s cheek and tilt the witcher’s face towards him.

“Geralt, I won’t take advantage.”

Geralt whined. “--S’not that. C’mon lay down.”

Geralt tugged Jaskier down again, sprawling him out onto the bed, tangling them in the sheets.

Jaskier laughed and desperately twisted to remove his own shoes before relenting and snuggling down into the blankets with Geralt.

The witcher’s voice was now in Jaskier’s ear, his lips sending shivers down his spine. “Just. C’mere.”

He felt Geralt’s solid warm mountainous body shift and wiggle behind him until every part of him was pressed against every part of Geralt, and the witcher’s arms and legs were wrapped around him like a sloth to a tree branch.

He relaxed and allowed himself to melt back into Geralt.

“S-ok?” asked Geralt.

“Yes, Geralt. This is just fine.”

If anything, it was heaven.

Geralt nuzzled into the back of his neck and his breathing slowed. Just as Jaskier thought Geralt had fallen asleep, the witcher whispered into his neck.

“Roses are red.” He said. Then there was a moment of silence. Jaskier didn’t rush to fill it. He awaited.

“You're furry like a bear.” Continued Geralt.

Jaskier snorted.

“Violets are blue,” continued the witcher. There was another stretch of silence, which Geralt filled by planting several chaste kisses onto Jaskier’s neck, making goosebumps rise on his arms and legs.

“And I like your stupid hair,” Geralt finished triumphantly.

Jaskier began to giggle, and his giggle rolled into a dizzy, helpless cackle.

His back shook against Geralt, who was giggling too, puffing breath into his ear.

“M’a poet.” said Geralt. “Happy?” He squeezed his arms tighter around Jaskier’s waist.

“Very.” said Jaskier.

Geralt nipped him playfully on the shoulder.

“Now none of that,” said Jaskier. “Only if you still want to in the morning.”

“Will.” said Geralt. “Will want.”

Despite Geralt’s inebriation, Jaskier knew that was the truth.  Geralt of Rivia was many things but a good actor wasn’t one of them.

So Jaskier tugged Geralt’s heavy, relaxed hands up to his lips and kissed them on each knuckle.

“I love you too,” he murmured.

Because that was also the truth.

[fyeahmeninroyalnavy]

#horatio hornblower/archie kennedy modern AU

Rain and Puffy Shirts

Dedicated to and prompted by my dear friend @professorlehnsherr-almashy

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Archibald Theo Kennedy, but my friends and family all call me Archie. I'm 27, a Critical Care flight paramedic for the NHS, and significant other to Horatio Edward Hornblower, also 27. He's an artist, and a very good one I might add. Everyone loves his paintings of tall ships and anything to do with the Napoleanic War.

He does allright for himself, well enough that he works from home. He can also sing and play the guitar, which he does for fun. And also to impress me.

We've been sharing a flat for the past three months but we've known one another for about a year. Most of that year we spent just as friends …

No doubt friends in serious denial.

I'm going to be sharing snippets of our life together, but don't worry, you'll be hearing from Horatio too, even though he’s extremely shy.

And now on to our story.

On a chilly Spring evening in London, Horatio and I attended a costume party given by a close friend, William Bush, or Liam as we call him. His home is just around the bend from our flat which is a good thing as we never drink/drive. Horatio looked incredibly gorgeous in his 18th century Royal Navy uniform. I wore one as well and our costumes were the center of attention that evening.

When Horatio had had enough of the party "he can only bear so much of them" we began our walk home. Rather I walked while he staggered. "I should have kept a closer eye on my boyfriend's alcohol consumption that evening but I was having too much fun playing with Liam's new dog Styles. As a result of my distraction Horatio had more to drink than he could handle, which isn't much at all.

"Come on Ratio, watch your step now."

"Horatio knitted his brows looking puzzled. "I am washing it, Arshie. Ekzacly why am I supposed to wash it?”

"So you don't fall, of course." The last time that happened I ended up playing Paramedic while off duty. You were quite the pathetic mess, as I recall." He smiled ruefully.

Horatio appeared puzzled for a moment before answering. "Ah yes, I merember now.

That really hurt! My nose looked awful and I was humilitated, all covered in blood and dirt. Ima bloody klutz!”

Archie snorted. "And you had only had a pint that evening too."

"Like I shaid, Ima bloody klutz!"

"You're my bloody klutz though." He squeezed his mate's shoulder fondly.

"Arshie, he responded, pulling his mate close and nuzzling his nose into a warm neck. Am I? Truly?"

"You know you are my darling, and while I don't mind if you're a bit unsteady I do mind if you get hurt." he answered.

"M'not going to. You won't let me."

As soon as he spoke Horatio tripped and nearly fell flat onto the pavement.

"Whoa, careful there! I can't have that sweet face spoiled by the footpath! He steadied him in strong arms. Since you definitely went over your limit tonight, I doubt you’ll be very happy come morning, my poor lamb.”

"But I'm reeeally happy rish now, my Arshie Bear, he slurred, an arm draped affectionately over his boyfriend’s shoulder. C'mere, you lil' snugglebunny, and give me a kish!”

He complied readily, never able to resist kissing those soft full lips. Even when completely sloshed, his Horatio's kisses were always like heaven. And Archie loved when Horatio was so open and unguarded, a very different man than most people knew him to be. He was a cheerful, snuggly and affectionate drunk.

He kissed the soft sweet mouth slowly and tenderly, making both of them hum with pleasure. When at last they parted he was rewarded with a happy, goofy smile that warmed his soul.

"I do love you sho very much my dearest,"he sighed.

"And I love you my sweet Horatio. I can express no kinder sign of love than this kind kiss.”

"Don't make me cry, Mr. Kennedy. I have a repu, repustation to uphold."

"Your reputation is safe with me. I'll never reveal what a sentimental fellow you really are, he replied as he brushed curls away from his mate's forehead. Archie glanced up at the gathering clouds anxiously. C'mere. I can smell rain and we need to get home."

Suddenly Horatio felt himself being hoisted over Archie's broad shoulders, his head upside down so that he was looking at the ground. He burst into peals of laughter. "Arsheee, put me down! I can waltz just fine, an I'm much too heavy. Wait a minute. What is thish we have here?"

He jumped suddenly and squeaked. "Ratio, leave my bloody arse alone!" There was another flinch and a squeal, followed by hysterical giggling from the offender.

"Can't. Ish really cute and ish right here where I can pinsh it!"

"You're incorrigible when you're drunk, you know that, right? And damned adorable as well."

"Can't help it if your bum ish so nice and pinshable. Ima pinsh it again!"

"Owww! That hurt! You're truly living up to your nickname tonight Honey Badger. Not caring and all that. And since you won't play nice I'm trying things a different way."

He swiftly shifted positions so that he was carrying his love in his arms, protecting himself from his cheeky offender.

Horatio merely grinned and wrapped both arms around his neck just as a cool rain began falling.

"Arshie, you can't possibly carry me like this!"

"I already am, my darling, long legs and all!"

"Have I ever told you just how much I love being held by you? "He nuzzled Archie's neck and kissed it.

Archie swallowed hard as a deep feeling of warmth and affection for the man he loved took his breath away. He stopped and stood still, just holding Horatio tighter and staring into those soft brown eyes, wet lashes impossibly long. He knew they should get moving soon, but the moment felt to precious to waste.

"And I love holding you." Pressing their foreheads together, he sighed contententedly, then began moving purposefully towards home.

Eventually they made it to their flat, completely drenched but happy.

Archie put Horatio down but kept one arm tucked around his waist for support as he unlocked the door to their flat.

"Let's get you into some dry clothing before you catch a chill."

On queue, Horatio began to shiver and his previously cheerful demeanor changed abruptly. His lips turned down into a pout, his brow furrowing.

"How'd I get sho drunk Arshee? Someone must of put a tot of rum in my Coke! Was it you?"

He snorted. "I would never."

"Will you help me? I can't make things work and there's two of you now. I’m going to regret this later, aren’t I?”

He smiled sympathetically.

"Probably. But I'm going to take very good care of you, so no worries, okay?" He helped Horatio to their bedroom, grabbed some towels from the cupboard and wrapping him in one helped him lie down on the bed. "I'll be right back."

He went into the kitchen for a glass of water and some aspirin, took dry boxers and a tee shirt from a drawer and returned to the bed.

"Here, take these aspirin and drink all the water. Archie lifted Horatio up and helped him drink. There we go. Now, let's get you into some dry clothing." He began tugging at the wet garments.

"Achee, you're taking all my clothes off! Horatio began to giggle. Take yours off too!"

"Another time my darling. You're a bit too inebriated for anything but cuddles I fear.”

"M'not. Please?"he whined.

"Let's just concentrate on getting you dry before you catch cold. I won't have you getting sick under my watch.”

A cross between a growl and a groan was heard but Archie just smiled and concentrated on his task. He was at his best as a caregiver; it was an integral part of his profession after all. But being allowed to care for his partner so intimately was everything to him. It had taken some work to get to this point in their relationship. And now that they were there, he cherished it.

"There we are! I think that's dry enough. Fluffy."

"I'm not Fluffy!" He playfully batted at his mate, smiling impishly.

"No? Perhaps if I brought you a mirror it would change your mind." He ruffled the dark brown ringlets affectionately.

Horatio shivered. "Will you hurry and get changed? I'm cold and I need you to keep warm. My Achee Bear, he mumbled sleepily. Love your cuddles."

"Of course. I'll be back in a flash.

Archie quickly undressed, dried himself, and changed. Horatio was chilled and his teeth were chattering, so his mate was in a hurry to join him. He pulled back the covers, got in bed, and wrapped his strong arms around his shivering partner, pulling him close.

"Is this better?"

Horatio sighed contentedly. "Much." He nuzzled into Archie's neck, murmuring nonsensical phrases.

"My poor Horatio, you're still cold as an ice lolly." He began rubbing his hands up and down his partner's back to generate warmth.

"Mmm, a melting one now. There's nothing in this world I love more than your hugs, my dearest. Or hearing you say my name. He smiled shyly and ducked his head. Well, almost nothing!"

Archie grinned in delight, blue eyes sparkling. He licked his lips and jutted out his chin in a cheeky little smirk. He kissed the tip of Horatio's nose, then pulled his head to lay against his broad shoulder. "Sleep now, darling. I worry that tomorrow will be a long day for you." He stroked the soft curls, relishing the silky texture.

"Mmhm, love you, Bear," he answered sleepily.

"And I love you. I'm here if you need me. Always."

The next morning:

Archie was cheerfully humming while making coffee, tea, and toast. He was still dressed in his boxers and a v neck tee-shirt, his feet bare. His handsome face was clean shaven, his golden hair neatly brushed, and his blue eyes bright and clear. The previous night's party and being caught in a downpour had not affected his mood and constitution in any way.

Horatio could never understand this as he hated mornings with a passion, needing his coffee and toast to begin functioning normally.

But today wasn't even a normal day. Horatio had had way too much to drink last night and along with Archie had gotten caught in a downpour.

His hair had gotten very wet and had been towel dried by Archie. As a result his hair was extremely fluffy and his curls were out of control. He had dark circles under his eyes and the beginning of a cold. Add to that a headache, nausea, and no coffee and you get one very grumpy Horatio Hornblower. He groaned loudly upon hearing his mate in the kitchen.

"Acheee, why didn't you stop me last night?"

Hearing his partner's distress call, he immediately made his way to their bedroom.

"Bad morning, Ratio darling?"

His mate huffed and scowled, his brow furrowing. He blinked his eyes, squinting.

"Looking for these, Honey Badger?" Archie asked cheerfully, handing his glasses to Horatio.

He accepted them grudgingly, placing them on his face as he mumbled "Damn your eyes, Mr. Kennedy."

Archie couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Horatio, what can I do to help, my love?"

The grumpy expression softened a bit. He slowly stood up and groaned.

"Just kill me now and get it over with please, he whined, wrapping his arms around his mate and slumping against him. I feel as if my head might explode."

"I truly hope that won't happen. I'm very fond of that beautiful head myself. Will rubbing it help?"he crooned, massaging the back of his neck gently.

"Mmhm, that's nice Bear" he mumbled into Archie's shoulder.

"Do you think you can manage some toast and coffee? You might feel better with some food in your stomach."

"Ugh, don't want to think of food right now, he groaned dramatically. Might puke!"

"Well, we can't have that. Let's go into the lounge and you can put your head in my lap while I have my tea. Yeah?"

He nodded, allowing himself to be led to the sofa. Archie settled him, carefully covering him with a soft blanket. "There. I'm going for my tea and I'll be back straight away."

"Okay. Don't be too long, Achee" he whined as he removed his glasses, placing them on the coffee table.

"Oh, Horatio. You're so incredibly lovable when you're needy," he whispered to himself as he assembled a tray of toast, tea, marmalade, and butter. He decided to include coffee in case his mate changed his mind and a small beaker of ginger ale to help soothe a queasy stomach.

Setting the tray on a table he sat down and Horatio wasted no time plopping his curly head in his boyfriend's lap.

Archie smiled and raised an eyebrow.

"Bear, will you, ahem, would you mind running your fingers through my hair?"

"You need not even ask, my darling."

As Archie ran the fingers of one hand through Horatio's curls, he took sips of tea and bites of toast with another, occasionally feeding small bites to his boyfriend. He knew he could get him to accept some food this way.

"You're like a baby bird, you know that don't you?"

Horatio blushed, smiling shyly. "C'mon Achee!"

"Don't go all coy on me now, my darling. It's only the two of us here and no one else. We can and should be totally ourselves, agreed?"

He nodded, reaching up to touch Archie's face.

"You make every part of my life all better. In every way imaginable. Even feeling as miserable as I do, I'm just... at peace I suppose you could say." There was a look of pure bliss on his face as he gazed up adoringly at his mate.

"Umm, I. Archie cleared his throat, swallowing the lump that had formed. I... love making you happy, Horatio. Being here when you need me. Comforting you when you're upset or sick. Making you laugh and smile. He paused, grinning. Even dragging your drunk arse home in the rain and putting you to bed. That's all I ever want." Blue eyes stared into brown. Both had grown misty.

Horatio reached up and gently pulled Archie's lips to his, giving him the sweetest of kisses, telling him without words the depth of his feelings. When the kiss ended, he stroked Archie's cheek gently, still looking into his eyes.

"I'm the happiest I've ever been, babe. And I love you. So much." He caressed the lips of his mate slowly, tenderly.

"And I love you, my darling. My sweet, sweet Horatio." He took his hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it reverently.

"Ahem, er, Archie?" A blush began to color his face as he smiled bashfully.

"What? Something you wanted, Ratio" he asked cheekily.

“There is. Let’s go back to bed.”

Archie wasted no time granting his wish!

Later that day

"Please tell me I didn't embarrass myself to the point of never being able to show my face again!"

Archie pursed his lips to keep from smiling as he patted his mouth with his napkin.

"Go on, say something at least! My lunch is sitting in my stomach like a lump of clay. I thought you loved me." Horatio scrubbed his hands across his pale face and groaned.

Archie couldn't help himself any longer and burst out laughing.

"You think you're so clever. Are you having me on about last night and what I did?"

"I wish I was but I'm not! It was, it was so unlike you, I just can't! My sides are hurting." Archie was wiping tears from his flushed face.

Horatio scowled and huffed. "You just wait Mr. Kennedy. Don't think me incapable of getting revenge."

"Listen, Horatio. You really did do everything that I said you did."

Brown eyes stared into blue.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Popping the buttons from your puffy shirt?"

"Mhm."

"And the comment about your Cutlass?"***

"Yes, especially that!" Laughter bubbled up again.

"Noooo! Achee? I don't think I care to know what else I said or did last night. I may actually die from embarrassment!" Horatio rose from his chair and began pacing.

Archie got up from the table and began clearing the dishes from lunch. There was a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"Are you certain you don't want to know?"

Horatio froze and stopped pacing, rolling his eyes.

"Yes! No. I don't know! Damn't!"

"Everyone loved the pet names you have for me, by the way."

"Which ones?"

"Well, there was Archie Bear, Snugglebunny, and Sweet Cheeks."

"Noooo, why did I ever accept that second drink on an empty stomach? Horatio’s eyes suddenly went wide. What about the other name? The naughty one? What must everyone think of me?”

Archie decided his poor partner had had enough ribbing by the look on his pale face and crossed the room, taking him firmly by the shoulders and leading him to sit down on the couch in the lounge. Then he sat next to him, put an arm around his shoulders and made direct eye contact with him.

"I got the distinct impression that everyone thought you funny, adorable, relaxed, and having fun. And probably in love. It's a good thing Horatio. Everyone is happy for you. And for me. You don't have to worry about a thing, okay? He pulled him into a tight hug. I’m sorry for teasing you.”

"S'okay. Not your fault. I already felt sick, then I started overthinking things. You know how I get." He returned the hug affectionately.

"I do know, but next time I won't tease when you're hungover with a cold coming on."

"It's fine. Slowly a sweet smile replaced the frown. You can't help being the most cheeky man in the Uk if not the entire world. I love you anyway."

Archie beamed with delight and plopped himself on Horatio's lap.

***And I love you. My Honey Badger."

“Wait, did I call you the name? The naughty one?”

“I’ll never tell!”

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

[lemonpeter]

STARKER, by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 7: Betrayal

A/N: !!! and the plot progresses, with this absurdly long chapter (I think it’s our longest yet)!! we would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far and any ideas you have about what’s coming in the future! - bloo & bri 💕

Warnings: nff scene in the beginning, heavier angst (it’s finally starting 😈), character death mention

Masterlist ao3

————

When they walked through the doors of the fancy restaurant with the French name that Peter didn't even want to attempt to pronounce, the couple was met with a young woman standing at the hostess station, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.

Barely looking up from the little podium where she obviously was 'hiding' her phone, she glanced at Peter as she spoke, not paying any attention to the older man beside him. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but unfortunately we're full tonight. I'd love to help you make a reservation for another time if you'd like." Her eyes moved back down as she fiddled with a pen absentmindedly.

Tony didn't respond, just smirked down at Peter from behind his dark sunglasses. 'Wait for it' he mouthed. He sniffed lightly, nose twitching.

And Peter, well he just stood there and did exactly that. His eyes wandered, landing on the small, gold metal rectangle pinned to the hostess’ black button up. Hailey, it read in flowing black script.

The woman looked up, finally, when neither of them said anything. Her eyes met Peter's again and she smiled at him, raising one of her eyebrows questioningly. "Is there a specific day you'd like?" She turned to the side and began clicking through options on the computer. "We could do next Tuesday evening, at seven-thirty?”

Tony took that as his chance, clearing his throat. He shifted and took a step closer to his husband, hand moving to rest on his lower back. “We have a reservation, actually.”

Hailey looked up, then, head turning to face Tony in response to the sound.

Peter had to bite back a laugh at the way the hostess' expression changed, leaning into Tony’s embrace.

Mouth gaping, she simply stared at them for a moment, eyes wide with shock. Then a deep flush overtook her face. Hailey hurried to speak, spluttering over her words as she straightened her posture. “Oh, God, I am- I am so sorry. Mr. Stark. So sorry, Let me just-.” With shaking hands, she began typing before turning to them a moment later, an embarrassed smile pulling at her lips. “Everything’s, um, all set for the private room you reserved, sir. M-mister Stark.”

“That’d be ‘Misters’ Stark,” Tony corrected, smiling down at Peter. He pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple, eyes closing briefly and making a delicate blush spread over his cheeks.

“Yes, of course. If you’ll both follow me, I’ll show you to your table.” Having reconstructed her mask of professionalism, Hailey grabbed two menus and gestured for the two men to follow her into the main area of the restaurant.

They walked through the deep, navy velvet curtains that were drawn and made their way through the dining area. There were tables scattered throughout, all occupied by people who looked like they had more money in their wallets than Peter had seen in his entire life up until that point.

He could feel all of their eyes on him, no doubt wondering who was so lucky as to be on the arm of Tony Stark. He could hear their scandalized whispers. And he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t know how to feel about the attention. But here he was, preening under their gazes. The teen loved everyone seeing that yes he, Peter Benjamin Parker, had somehow lucked out and captured the attention of the playboy. He certainly looked the part, in his powder blue button down (of which the top few buttons were undone, exposing a bit of his chest and the thin chains draped from his neck, but not open enough to give away the lingerie he was wearing underneath) and his tight gunmetal trousers, both by Gucci. He didn’t even want to know how much the outfit actually cost.

But he wanted everyone else to.

The warmth of Tony’s palm on the small of his back as they walked, his fingertips ghosting over the top of his ass, had something warm fizzling deep in Peter’s belly.

Once they reached the far end of the dining area, they were led into an alcove off to the side, separated by another dark curtain. There was a single table in the moderately sized room, set up for two. A bouquet of red roses sat in the middle of the white table cloth like a centerpiece. The lighting was inviting and intimate at the same time, and it was quiet, the conversations of the other patrons but a low murmur in the background.

Hailey sat the menus down on the table in their respective places before turning to the two patrons. “Here you go, gentlemen.” While the two of them sat down, Tony pulling Peter’s chair out for him, she reached for the glass pitcher of ice water and filled each of their glasses. “I’ll start you off with some water, and a server will be right with you. I hope you enjoy your visit with us here at La Brise Fraîche.” She shot them a quick smile before making a hasty exit, face once more taken over in a rosy blush.

Tony chuckled as he shifted his chair a bit closer to the table. Slipping off his sunglasses, he popped them into the pocket of his black suit jacket, in front of the little pocket square that matched Peter’s shirt. “She certainly changed her tune, huh baby?” He shot Peter a soft smile as he picked up his menu and gestured for the younger man to do the same.

Peter hummed in response to his husband’s teasing, following his lead and opening the menu in order to look it over. A frown soon formed between his eyebrows, and his eyes flicked from the parchment up to Tony’s face. “Tony,” he said softly, “this, uh, most of this is in French. I can’t- And there’s no prices on here. How do I…” He trailed off, uncertainly, all of his earlier confidence gone now that they were alone again. He felt extremely out of his element all of a sudden.

Reaching across the table, the older man brushed his fingers over the back of Peter’s hand. “It’s alright, Pete. What are you in the mood for, baby? We should definitely get some wine,” he said, winking.

Peter giggled and threw his head back a little. When he looked back over at Tony, his eyes were gleaming and he bit his lip, running the toe of his shoe from the inside of the man’s ankle up to his knee. “You trying to get me drunk, Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s gaze darkened, causing Peter’s breath to catch in his throat. “Maybe I am, Mr. Stark.”

Their waiter approached them, then, slipping through the navy drapery. “Good evening gentlemen. I’m Jacques, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start the two of you off with something to drink?” He smiled at them both as he spoke with a light French accent, eyes flickering between them before focusing on Tony.

The billionaire cleared his throat, not even bothering to reach for the proffered wine list. “We’ll have whatever the finest Cab Sauvignon is, and how about a Sauvignon Blanc as well?” Though he phrased it as a question, it didn’t very much sound like one, and Peter squirmed in his seat at the authoritative tone of his voice.

God, how was he going to make it through this dinner? They hadn’t even ordered yet and he was already horny.

And it only got worse from there.

The wines Tony had chosen were really strong, Peter thought to himself as he fumbled a bit with his fork, trying to twist up some of the creamy pasta on the plate in front of him. It was some sort of mushroom-based sauce, and it looked delicious. And it would be, if the numerous other dishes they had ordered and already sampled, Tony insisting that he try a little bit of everything, were anything to go by.

He was flushed from the alcohol, and inebriated enough that he was no longer bothering with trying to hold back the little sounds of ecstasy that left his mouth at each bite of the incredible cuisine.

His eyes fluttered shut once he finally managed to twist up enough pasta to put in his mouth, and the soft noise he made sounded truly indecent. He heard Tony’s sharp intake of breath and sighed contentedly as he chewed the bite of food before opening his eyes again in order to get another forkful.

Feeling his husband’s eyes boring into his skin, Peter looked up from his plate. A small whimper escaped him at the hungry look in his eyes. “Tony?”

The older man licked at his bottom lip as his eyes roved over Peter’s face. His voice was somewhat rough when he spoke, leaning forward in his seat. “You’ve got a little something there, baby,” he said lowly, bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick it before reaching across the table to swipe the digit just under Peter’s bottom lip. The small smear of glistening white came off easily, and he pressed the pad of his thumb against Peter’s lips, prompting him to open.

Another whine escaped the teen as he did so immediately, granting Tony’s finger entrance. Peter began sucking on it lightly to clean the sauce off, and he hummed once the light cream dissipated and he’d swallowed it down, allowing him to focus on the sensation of Tony’s calloused skin on his tongue.

Tony groaned softly, shifting in his chair. “Mmm, that’s my good boy.” He pulled his thumb away, smirking at the displeased noise that came from his young lover as he reached down to adjust himself in his pants.

Peter caught the movement. His own cock, which had been slightly interested since they’d left the hotel thanks to how sexy he felt in the lingerie he had slipped on, gave a slight twitch. “You hard for me, Daddy,” he asked, blinking coquettishly at the man and reaching for one of his two wine glasses, bringing the one filled with the red wine to his lips. He made a bit of a show of running his tongue from the base of the goblet up to the rim, cleaning up a rivulet of the dark, blood red liquid that had dripped down while he drank.

“Always, baby boy,” Tony said softly, keeping his eyes on Peter as he took a bite of what was left of the steak au poivre in front of him.

They continued eating, and Peter continued his teasing, until their server arrived a few minutes later to check on them. The young boy was glad the table cloth was there to hide the erection in his lap, his flush intensifying as Jacques approached them. Tony, however, didn’t look phased, continuing to eat the rest of his food and sip at the full-bodied alcohol in his glass, eyes trained on his husband.

Beginning to clear away the empty plates, Jacques spoke up. “I hope everything has been to your satisfaction, gentlemen.” When they both responded in the affirmative, he continued. “Would you be interested in ordering anything for dessert? Tonight’s special is a beautiful lavender and honey posset, it’s absolutely to die for,” he intoned, making eye contact with Peter and smiling.

Tony scowled at the interaction, sniffing lightly and narrowing his eyes a bit. “Nope, I think we’re all set…” He trailed off at the pleading look Peter gave him, big brown eyes peering over at him dolefully.

“Please, Tony,” the younger man asked, foot once again moving to rub against the inside of his husband’s leg. “I’m not sure what a, um, posset is, but it sounds really yummy, and Jacques says it’s good.” He looked at Jacques briefly, who nodded, and then back at Tony. “This is about trying new things, right?” He bit his lip for good measure, just to punctuate his little performance.

With an eye roll, Tony caved, his hand wrapping around Peter’s ankle underneath the table. He squeezed it, not ungently. “Alright,” he said, sending Jacques a quick smile as he piled the last plate into his arms. “We’ll have one of the possets, then, please.”

And he’d obviously made the right choice, as he was now watching Peter suck the remnants of the custard off of his pointer finger like it was his job to ensure that the small glass jar was spotless. “That good, sweetie?”

Peter hummed around his finger, eyes flicking up to meet Tony’s, which were once again flashing at him dangerously. His body thrummed in response, every fiber of his being screaming out in want. “It’s so good, Daddy,” he whined softly, the hand not in his mouth pressing down on the bulge in his pants. “So good.”

Sitting up straighter in his chair, Tony took a deep breath before reaching into his pocket for his wallet. He flipped through it for a moment before pulling out a stack of hundred dollar bills and slapping them down on the table. Standing, he walked around the table to Peter’s seat in order to gently pull him up and closer to him.

Peter followed willingly, stepping into Tony’s personal space and craning his neck up to that his lips could meet the older man’s. He moaned softly at the feeling of their clothed erections pressing up against each other.

“Let’s go, baby,” Tony whispered into his mouth, pulling away so that he could lead Peter out of the room and through the main dining area. He paid no mind to any of the other patrons, who were no doubt scandalized by the sight of the two of them, rumpled and clearly aroused.

Peter just flushed, grinning as he made eye contact with a few people, winking at an older lady who was looking at him with wide eyes.

Yeah, he liked people knowing he was Tony’s.

When they got back to the hotel, Tony backed Peter up against the door to the hotel room as he began to lavish his neck with kisses and bites while his hands gripped at Peter’s ass. “Fuck, baby, you look so pretty tonight,” he rasped, relishing in the way his husband jerked in his hold in response to a particularly sharp nip.

“Just for you,” Peter moaned, hands fumbling to remove Tony’s jacket. He threw it to the ground as it was shrugged off, gasping when he was lifted into the older man’s arms in order to be carried over to the bed and deposited on the covers. Kicking his shoes off, he watched as Tony did the same and rolled up the sleeves to his wrinkling white dress shirt.

Crawling on the bed to kneel over Peter, Tony reached for the buttons on the boy’s shirt and began undoing them. A low growl sounded in his throat at the first peek of black lace that became exposed. “What do we have here?”

Peter preened under his heavy gaze, pushing up onto his elbows so he could slip the shirt off his arms, exposing the black bodysuit he wore underneath. “Do you like it, Daddy?” He peered up at him from underneath his lashes.

“Like it? I love it, baby boy.” Tony trailed kisses down the teen’s chest, feeling the muscles in his abdomen twitch under in ministrations. When he reached the waistband of the dark trousers, he undid the button with practiced ease and pulled them down, pausing for Peter to lift his hips and throwing them to the floor once they were off. His eyes raked over Peter’s form, mesmerized by the sight of him spread out on the fluffy comforter, the inky lingerie creating a strong contrast. He could very clearly see Peter’s erection straining against the lace, and the wet spot that was glistening with precum.

“Daddy,” Peter whined, hips twitching upward in an attempt to get some friction. “Touch me, please.”

Tony hummed softly, eyes locking on Peter’s lips for a moment before he got off the bed in order to walk over to the kitchenette area. He rifled through the drawers for a moment, ignoring Peter’s indignant noises. When he found what he was looking for, he resumed his previous position.

Making eye contact with Peter, Tony uncapped the lid of the honey bottle and squeezed some out onto his pointer and middle fingers. “Get up, baby,” he said softly. “Kneel for me.”

Eyes wide, Peter followed the request, only wobbling a little bit as a result of the alcohol in his system.

“Now open,” Tony instructed as he brought his dripping finger’s to Peter’s lips. He groaned when the digits were enveloped in the warmth of the boy’s mouth, shivering when he started suckling, not unlike the way he treated the man’s cock. “Fuck, Peter.”

Bolstered by Tony’s words, and desperate for the sticky sweetness he was desperately chasing with his tongue, Peter whined in the back of his throat before he closed his eyes and began sucking in earnest.

Eyes blazing, Tony watched in awe as the teen fellated his fingers. His other hand moved up to grab at Peter’s unruly curls, using his grip to hold the boy still as he pressed his fingers further into his mouth.

Peter’s eyes flew open as he gagged around the intrusion, throat convulsing as Tony held him there. He whimpered, eyes watering as he struggled to breathe. He gasped when Tony eventually removed his fingers, spluttering as thick saliva dripped down his chin. “Daddy- please,” he rasped, voice already a little wrecked. “More.” His eyes flickered to the honey bottle that was laying on the bed.

Smirking, Tony snatched it up. His hands moved to his belt and began unfastening it. “Want some more dessert, baby?”

***

Peter was going to be mortified when he realized that they were able to see everything that was going on. Every lingering touch or look, every...well, every time he was with Tony was being broadcasted to SHIELD through EDITH. No matter what was going on, sensitive and tame content alike, it was all being witnessed by the agents (plus, even more uncomfortably, May and Ned.)

Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware. So it didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon.

So Ned was forced to suffer through every moment of it in a room full of adults. Again, including Peter’s poor aunt. Hopefully she wasn’t paying attention, though, because it definitely would have been even more awkward for her to see. Or even think about.

Just. Ew.

Personally, he was trying to figure out if the situation was illegal. After all, Peter was seventeen. And even though technically it was all in his head, it was still explicitly sexual content that they were all witnessing, starring him.

Maybe it wasn’t the best or most relevant thing to be thinking over, but Ned was trying to ignore the reality of what was actually going on. Watching his best friend make bedroom eyes at and get railed by their deceased idol wasn’t something he was particularly fond of.

He just needed to distract himself from the...activities that kept occurring on the monitors. So he tried to keep his mind away from that part of the situation, legality and all.

What he really needed to focus on was getting Peter out. It had been nearly two weeks since Beck’s announcement that outed Peter’s identity. It had been almost two weeks since Peter had run away and gone into hiding.

They hadn’t even been able to make contact with him through May for days now. He was solely focused on Tony, just as he had been since the wedding. They weren’t sure how much longer that pattern would continue. Or if it would ever stop.

Everyone was getting more and more anxious by the day.

Ned hadn’t found any real solution yet. There were no cracks in the program, no hidden door in the code that he could sneak his way through. So far, it was all sealed tightly.

Usually, that would be considered a good thing. But it just made his job that much more stressful in the moment. They still had no location for Peter. They were yet to discover a way to shut down the illusion. All they had was the ability to send May in when Peter wanted his family there. Nothing else. And there hadn’t been much family bonding time lately.

“When do you think they’ll finally stop?” Paige wondered out loud, eyes firmly on the screen as she leaned over Ned’s shoulder.

The teen jumped at the sound of her voice, head whipping around until they nearly collided. He had no idea that she’d snuck up on him. “What? Oh.” He made a face as he processed her question. “I don’t know. Hopefully soon.” Although that was doubtful, if he was honest with himself.

She hummed in acknowledgment, nodding a little. Her eyes seemed to follow the movements on the monitor before she finally glanced away, seeming a bit flustered. “Yeah. They’ve been at it a while, huh.”

Ned had absolutely no desire to discuss his best friend’s sex life. Especially considering the circumstances. And the interest in the agent’s voice sparked something in him. Not annoyance, not at her, but something very close to that. He wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. “They kinda have. But I’m trying to not pay that much attention to all of it. I’d like to have something of a normal friendship with Peter when he’s out. I can’t do that if I spend all this time watching him get-“

“Leeds,” Fury interrupted, standing over the two young people.

Paige instantly straightened up when she heard him, a light flush overtaking her cheeks as she pushed her hair back behind her ear.

“Yes, sir?” Ned answered, slowly looking up at the man.

“Any change? There has to be something you can do to get his attention.” The director worked to keep up his hard exterior, but was obviously uncomfortable. As was everyone else.

Except maybe Paige. But Ned didn’t want to think about why that was.

Ned sighed, fingers absently tapping at his keyboard. “No. Nothing yet, sir. I’ve been looking for a way to slip through into the program more frequently, but everything is airtight. Tony Stark knew what he was doing.” He couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice. Which was a little annoying, since the tech and designer in question was causing nothing but issues. “And Peter too, I guess,” he added, knowing that Peter had probably input quite a bit of his own code into the program.

“Do you think he knew that Peter would use the glasses for this?” Paige murmured.

Again with the interested tone. “Probably not,” Ned supplied, clicking away from the live-feed for a moment. He technically wasn’t supposed to do that, but it would make everyone more comfortable for the moment. And it made certain that agent Oliver would have to stop watching, at least for the time being. “I mean, maybe. But probably not.”

“Stark wasn’t exactly the picture of perfect morality, but I don’t think he ever imagined anything like this happening.” Fury shook his head, face contorted in visible discomfort. “Especially not from Parker. I knew he was a devious little shit but not like this.”

Ned was pretty much on the same page. He knew that Peter had his moments, but it was never anything more than normal teenage hormone-fueled...lust felt like too strong of a word, but nothing else was coming to mind. He’d never thought that Peter was even capable of the things he had seen playing out on the screen. Although, he really hadn’t thought about it too much. Or ever.

His best friend was objectively an attractive guy, but Ned had really never thought of him in anything but a platonic way. So this was a lot of stuff that he’d never wanted to see.

“I dunno, I don’t know much about him but he seems like the closeted-kinky type,” Paige offered with a slight smile pulling at her lips. “Y’know, eager to please and all? Maybe I’m the only one that sees it.”

“Can we not talk about this?” Ned said quickly, definitely louder than necessary. The annoyed-but-not feeling was back. He adjusted his glasses just so he could have something to do with his hands for a moment. “I’d rather just focus on getting him out. Or figuring out how to talk to him.”

“Leeds is right,” Fury agreed, looking at the screen again. “It wouldn’t be my first choice, and it pains me to say it, but I suggest you turn that back on. Just to be sure nothing gets missed. We need to send Ms. Parker back in as soon as he shows signs of wanting her back in.”

None of them believed that it would be happening anytime soon, but Ned begrudgingly clicked to the feed again.

“Great. Keep checking to see if there’s anywhere you can slip through, he’s already held onto that tech for too long.”

The man walked away, leaving Ned and Paige alone again.

Ned looked at the agent, giving her a smile. “So, any ideas? We’re still stuck with what we’ve got and I feel like I’ve tried everything.” He sighed heavily, looking back to the screen.

He expected to see more of the same, ‘the same’ being Peter engaging in some insanely sexual scene with no end in sight. But it seemed like they had finally stopped, as the screen was dark, Ned’s reflection looking back at him. Something that only happened when Peter fell asleep, therefore unable to keep the tech running.

“They’re asleep!” He announced to the room. Everyone seemed to collectively relax. No more having to watch a potential lawsuit.

And sleep was good news for Ned; that meant he was able to finally get some real work done without having to constantly check up on the feed. He would have about seven hours or so (going by how long the illusion was typically down for a night of rest) to work and figure out a way to shut things down without worrying about his friend waking up and realizing it. Maybe even stopping him.

Nothing had come of the other nights he’d been able to work, but he kept hoping that he’d get lucky soon. He was determined to save his best friend. He had to.

So he started the stopwatch to record how long Peter slept and then got to work.

***

Ned worked all night, but was still stuck exactly where he had been, in terms of progress. The only connection they had was through the small gap he’d been able to squeeze his own coding into to get May through. And he had a bad feeling that his ‘solution’ with that wouldn’t last for much longer.

He kept track of what Peter (and Tony, by extension) was doing as the morning went on, instantly becoming more focused when he heard a brief mention of family.

“I think it would be nice to spend another day with them,” Peter commented through the crackly speakers, seeming to pack up the countless bags that he’d acquired over the past couple of days.

Not-Tony hummed in agreement, moving to help his- husband? (Ned wasn’t quite sure how all of it worked. It was all just pretend, after all.) No matter what they were considered, Tony began helping Peter with gathering up his bags. “I think that’s a great idea. Haven’t seen them since the wedding, we should spend some time with them.”

“Yeah, just having everyone over would be nice. We could watch a movie or something. One of those old ones you like.”

Tony made an offended noise, glancing in Peter’s direction. “Just because it came out before, what, two thousand? Doesn’t make it old. You’re just a baby,” he teased.

“Cradle robber,” Peter shot back playfully, an easy smile on his face. Like what he said didn’t make Ned’s skin crawl. They joked so easily (Peter’s mind did, at least) and yet the age gap between the two seemed to become that much more apparent in the moment.

“Oh, quiet.” Tony waved one hand. “So are you thinking that you just want to go back to the tower? Or was there another idea in that pretty little brain of yours?”

“Just home. Please.” Apparently ‘home’ was the tower, where Tony had mentioned, because he nodded and smiled after the answer.

“That isn’t his home,” May said softly from somewhere behind Ned, causing the teen to turn around.

Ned leaned back in his chair, looking up at her. “I’m hoping that he remembers that,” he admitted. “But I’m sure he does,” he corrected quickly when he saw the woman’s expression fall.

“He has to. He can’t just- he can’t leave us like this. For someone who got him killed.” May’s voice took on a slightly angrier tone as she spoke. But the anger fizzled out just as quickly as it came. “I need to talk to him, Ned. Not just within his little script. I need to actually get through to him.”

The teen nodded slowly, watching her closely. He knew it was a bad idea. The mission so far was just to stick to the scene that Peter wanted and to follow his lead. Get close to him. May wasn’t nearly close enough yet. And Peter didn’t seem to be close to changing his mind in any way. “But Fury said-“

“I don’t care what he said,” May said sharply. “Peter needs his family. His real family. He needs me. Not the me he expects to play along with his little game.”

That was a dangerous thing to say, especially given how the director seemed to know everything that was going on. Ned hoped that Fury hadn’t heard her. That could possibly compromise the one advantage they had. “He does need you. But just- not yet. You have to go along with his scene right now. Just for a little while longer.”

The woman watched him, expression softening slightly. She knew that he was right. But there was nothing she wanted to do more than reach out to Peter and bring him home. To his actual home. “Okay. But I’m not going another week or whatever without him. I can’t do that shit. This has already gone on too long. He needs to be home. And if he doesn’t get it together, I’ll be bringing him back with or without SHIELD’s help.”

The last bit sounded like a threat, and it probably was. Ned knew that she missed Peter. He was her only remaining family member. And he missed him too, of course he did. He just knew that it was different because May had seen him break too many times before. And she didn’t want to see it again.

She left, presumably going back to the small room that had her setup for entering the illusion. If Peter was talking about family, she had better get ready to go in as soon as he expected her to.

She slipped the headset on and waited, heart aching as she watched Peter interacting with Tony through the screen. She’d never seen him look at anyone quite like that. With so much love in his eyes. It nearly broke her heart to think about how her goal was to take him away from that. But she felt less guilty when she thought about all she was bringing him back to.

His home. His family. His friends. Everything he needed was all here in the real world. And he’d find someone else to look at in that same way, she was sure of it. And when he did, it would be okay. Because it would be the right person and the right time.

Not a dead man who was the root of all his issues.

May held her breath as the scene changed before her eyes, transforming into the sleek and expensive interior of Stark tower once again. And as the couple relaxed in the living area, she saw how Peter’s expression shifted into one of more concentration.

And she heard the quiet ding of the elevator and knew it was time for her to slip into the fantasy again. She heard agent Oliver instructing her in the background, but she already knew what to do.

She let herself relax, getting pulled into the illusion until she was standing in the elevator with the rest of Peter’s ‘special guests.’ It still gave her an odd, sick feeling of deja vu to see Mary, Richard, and Ben all together like that. It was all wrong. But she had to act like everything was okay. Like she wasn’t horrified by being surrounded by family members (and her husband) that she’d already lost and grieved for years.

Her participation in the scene had to be perfectly in accordance with Peter’s intentions or it would all be ruined. At least that’s what she’d been told countless times. But as soon as the doors opened and she saw Peter again, every plan they’d ever discussed dropped to the bottom of her list of priorities.

She just wanted him to come home.

Peter glanced up once he heard the doors, beaming. “Perfect!” He held onto Tony’s arm gently, leaning against him. “Now everyone is here.”

They filed out of the elevator, going over to the couple. May couldn’t help but realize how off it all felt. Without Peter actively controlling the other figures, it was like they were hardly there. Nothing more than stand-ins.

It was terrifying to witness, making her that much more determined to bring the boy home. He couldn’t stay in this environment, living entirely in his mind with no real company. It would only do further damage to his mental state.

As soon as they were in a certain vicinity, the scene seemed to come to life. Suddenly there was soft chatter from the other people as they started carrying their own conversations.

May jumped when she felt a hand on her lower back, instantly wanting to bat the intruding touch away. She knew who it was before she even looked and forced herself to relax. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t her Ben. Letting herself get attached wouldn’t do her any favors. It couldn’t happen. She had to keep her focus on the goal of saving Peter. That’s what was important.

“It’s nice of them to have us over like this,” Not-Ben murmured to her. “Yknow, I like seeing Pete so happy.” He smiled a bit and May’s heart ached. There was the smile she remembered. Easy, slightly mischievous. All Ben.

“Yeah…,” she started, forgetting what they were talking about for a moment. All she could think about was her husband. She could finally have him back like this, maybe she saw the appeal-

No. She couldn’t let herself get sucked in.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been a huge fan of Tony Stark,” she whispered back, not caring about possible consequences. She had to keep her mind straight, and in that moment that required being honest.

“But he’s happy, May.” Ben’s eyes searched her face, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t seeing anything. And even if he did, he couldn’t do anything with the information he found. He was just another figment of Peter’s imagination.

“Yeah. For now,” she mumbled, looking away. She had to focus on what was wrong. So her brain didn’t get convinced that he really was her Ben.

He was too tall. Not by much, but just enough that it was noticeable. And it bothered her.

And he was too...muscular. Sure, he’d never been thin, but it wasn’t like this.

Then it clicked.

This Ben only existed as Peter saw him.

Of course her husband would have seemed like some big, strong man to the boy that he raised. He was Peter’s superhero. And Peter never saw anything different.

That fact shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

She fixed her expression, not letting her true feelings show. She still needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was getting close to Peter. She had to follow along with his scene and make sure everything was in place. Nothing could seem out of the ordinary from how he wanted it.

They all sat down, on a couch facing Peter and Tony.

Peter grinned at them, clapping his hands together happily. “Okay, so, I was thinking maybe we could play some games? That’s always fun, right?”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t cheat,” Ben mumbled with a smile. It was all just teasing.

“I would never! Mean.” The teen stuck his tongue out at him before laughing. “What should we play?”

“Monopoly?” Tony suggested, wrapping his arm around his husband’s waist.

“You’re so old,” Peter whined. Then he giggled, leaning into the touch. “Kidding. Monopoly would be fun, it just takes forever.” Good thing they had all the time in the world to play.

“And ruins families,” May said under her breath, but thankfully no one else seemed to catch it.

“No one has anything else going on, we can play for as long as we want,” the older man assured him. “Want me to go grab it?”

Peter nodded, smiling up at him. “Sure, baby. Thank you.”

Tony stood up to get the game, coming back only a moment later with the box in his hands. “I call being banker,” he said playfully. He sat down and started setting the game up on the table between all of them.

No one argued, just laughing as they kept joking and teasing each other about the entire thing.

As the night went on, the energy level never wavered. Everyone was happy and relaxed, excited to be around each other.

Everyone except for May.

She hid it well, playing along, but inside she was deeply bothered by all of it. Nothing felt right, no matter how the others were acting. None of them were real. It was just her and Peter.

She watched as Tony reached out for his “husband” again and her stomach flipped. She was tired of watching them behave like that and pretending it was okay.

“Don’t touch him.”

The words left her mouth before she could stop them and the guilt set in instantly. She had just ruined the whole mission.

But now she could try things her own way.

Tony’s hand pulled away from Peter immediately, the confusion clear on his face. And May knew that the expression was only reflecting what her nephew was feeling.

“May, he can touch me. He’s my husband, after all. We got married, remember?” Peter shot her a smile, cuddling up to the other man. He tried to brush it off as how protective she always was. Maybe that was just bleeding into his projection of her.

“No, he isn’t, Peter.” May’s voice shook as she stood up, trying to move closer to him. “He isn’t real. You know that. None of this is real.”

“You’re not real,” he said quietly, eyes wide as he tried to figure out what was going on. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But as much as he tried to focus, she wouldn’t go back into place. Things wouldn’t go back to how he wanted them.

What was happening?

“Yes, I am. I’m the only real one here. It’s just you and me, Peter.” She met his eyes, looking desperate. “It’s me, baby. It’s actually me, I’m here. Please come home, this isn’t good for you. You need to come home and give the tech to Fury so-“

“No,” he said quickly, seeming to snap out of his confusion. “Tony gave it to me. It’s mine. No one else’s. And this is my home.” He glared at her, moving into Tony’s arms more.

How had SHIELD hacked May into the program? There shouldn’t have been any way for them to do that. He’d worked on the security coding himself, adding onto what Tony had already designed.

“Did I?” Tony mumbled, looking like he was trying to remember. What tech was being used? It seemed like they were just in the tower, nothing out of the ordinary.

But May ignored him. She continued tearfully. “Your home is with me. Your home is in the *real world*, not this thing you’ve made up! You can’t stay here!” She was getting more frantic.

“No, May. I can stay here. Maybe you should, too.” He watched her, trying to keep himself calm. He needed to regain control over the illusion. Maybe he wouldn’t have to lose anything. He just had to convince her to stay.

“I’ll be doing no such-“

“What’s the issue?” Ben cut in, moving to stand next to May. But he wasn’t going to help her. He was looking directly at her. “You could stay, couldn’t you. Right here. What’s the harm in that?” He grabbed her hands, brushing against her wedding ring.

The one she knew was buried in her closet, amongst the other things that reminded her of him too much to leave strewn about the apartment but she couldn’t bear to completely get rid of.

But it all felt so real.

“You’re dead,” she whispered, her own tone surprising her. She sounded terrified and just as weak as she had in the time right after he died. “I can’t stay. You’re gone and never coming back. All of you are.” Except for Peter, who didn’t want to be saved.

Ben smiled at her, like he’d expected the answer. Then he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Like he had a thousand times when he was alive. “I’m here now, May. Isn’t that enough?”

She hated how real it all felt. How tempting it was. She hated how she could feel his lips against her skin and how easily it pulled her back into the denial she’d felt right after the accident.

Maybe she could stay. She could have him back, live out life like they were supposed to. They were supposed to be together until they were old and grey until finally going from natural causes. Old age. His murder couldn’t touch them here.

It would be so easy to just stay.

But she knew that she couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. It would only destroy her mind to stay with him. And if she wasn’t taking care of her physical body then what would happen? She had to go. Staying wasn’t an option. She just had to convince him of that as well.

She stepped away from Ben, ignoring how much it hurt her to do so. Then she turned to Peter again, moving closer. Maybe if she could just hold him-

His eyes narrowed more as he watched her. He pushed her away when she tried to get closer again, instantly feeling guilty. But he wanted to keep her away. She was trying to take everything from him. If she didn’t want to stay, fine. She could go.

But he wasn’t going to lose this too.

“Get away from me,” Peter snapped, staying close to Tony. He looked almost protective, although he knew that physically it was impossible for anything to happen. “This is my home. Here. With him. And my family.”

May was still shocked at how he’d shoved her. He’d never behaved in such a way before, no matter how things had gotten. And he’d never been so angry, not at her. Not at anyone.

Where did her boy go? What happened to him?

“Peter, please,” she begged. “You can’t live like this. It might seem good for now, but you’re just going to hurt yourself. Please, you’ve gotta shut it down and tell us where you are. We’ll come get you and everything will be okay. SHIELD is working on fixing what happened with Mysterio, you can-“

“I’m not going anywhere! And I’m not telling you where I am, you’ll just make me stop!” There were tears welling in his eyes and his voice was shaking despite how strong he attempted to sound.

All May wanted to do was wipe those tears away and pull him in for a hug like she’d done countless times before. But she had a feeling that was a bad idea.

She felt so helpless, watching him from afar. She was losing him and she knew it.

That hurt more than anything else.

“Baby, please,” she murmured gently. “You can come home. Everything is going to be okay. We can get you some help,” she said slowly.

“I don’t need help. I need this.” And no one would take it away from him. “EDITH, find however she got in. Patch the hole. Make sure it won’t happen again.”

“Yes, Peter,” The AI answered, almost sounding nervous. If that was even something she was capable of.

Fear flashed through May as she stared at him. “Peter, please, don’t shut me out.”

“You’re not taking this from me. Everyone has taken everything from me!” Tears streamed down his face freely. “I get to keep this one thing. I get to have them all back. And you can’t take that. No one can. I won’t let you.”

“Peter, you need to come home. I miss you, we all miss you so much, baby. Please!”

“I miss you too. That’s why I wanted you here. But you messed it all up. You could have stayed here with me. With Uncle Ben.” He wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, baby, you know I can’t.”

“So you have to leave.” He was informed that EDITH found the coding that had been put in and she started fixing it.

“I love you, Peter. Please, think about what you’re doing,” she begged him. She was pushed from the illusion, still able to see through her headset but she couldn’t interact anymore.

“I love you too. But I’ve already thought about it. This is where I belong.”

Her screen went dark.

She ripped the headset off and threw it, burying her face in her hands. She’d fucked it all up.

And she’d lost him. He didn’t want to come home.

He wasn’t going to come home.

Agent Oliver rushed in, wincing when the tech hit the wall. It was probably broken now, but that could be dealt with later. She’d just watched everything play out on the screen, just like the others had. May was the first priority. “Ma’am-“

“I’m going home.” She looked up, eyes red like she was holding back tears. She pushed her glasses up and sniffled. “I’m leaving. This entire operation is pointless.” She stood up, quickly leaving the room without looking back.

“Ms. Parker, please, we’ll figure out another way,” Paige followed after her.

“May?” Ned looked up from his computer, quickly wiping away his own tears. There was enough to deal with, he could hold it together. He still had to figure out how to save Peter. “Please, don’t go. Not yet.”

She looked at him, but shook her head. “I’m going home. I can’t...I can’t do this. I messed it up, you’ll be better off without me. I can’t help you anymore. I’m sorry.”

As she walked away, she heard other people calling after her. Probably Fury, some other agents. But she didn’t turn around. She needed to get out.

Unlike Peter, all she wanted was to go home.

The drive to the building was short, her brain in a fog the entire time. She didn’t let herself feel. She couldn’t yet. Not until she was in the safety of the apartment.

Her car was parked and she was going up the elevator before she knew it. She blinked, slightly disoriented. She kept her eyes closed during the ride up, almost convinced that she would see Peter again when the door opened.

Of course, she didn’t. And she walked to the door of the apartment, posture defeated. Her whole body felt heavy, weighed down.

As soon as she put the key in the lock, the door opened and Happy pulled her into his arms.

“The kid called me,” he told her gently.

Her heart skipped a beat when he said that, hoping maybe he meant Peter. Maybe he changed his mind.

“The one you’ve been working with. At SHIELD,” he clarified, seeing the look on her face.

With that, she promptly dissolved into tears.

May Parker was a strong woman. She didn’t cry often. And even less often around other people.

But too much had happened, even for her. And she knew that Happy wouldn’t go anywhere no matter what she said. That he would stay, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. So she let herself cry, not holding anything back.

Everything was falling apart. Each tear that fell reminded her of it all. The guilt, the hurt, the anger she’d felt. The reopened wound of missing Ben. The aching void in her heart where Peter was missing.

Her boy didn’t want to be saved. So what was there that she could do?

Maybe this was just another loss that she’d have to learn to live with.