#I neither wear them myself nor enjoy drawing them

[frameshiftworks]

Some rendering practice with Sana

[thefandomdirtymind]

The small favor

18 +

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Prequel : The Haircut

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon 

A/N IMPORTANT: My first Smut fic in a very long time and damn I'm rusty. But, I hope you will still like it and I swear to improve myself with descriptive action scene.

Warning : Smut, mention of masturbation, unprotected sex, oral ( Fem receiving) , praising, vanilla sex, fluff

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

If you enjoy my story please let me know.

---

The moon, bright and full, was high in his sky. The supper was over for a long time ago now and the crew of the Merry going was all asleep, dreaming of battle, new territory to draw, a table full of food, adventure or of being reunited with an old friend.

But, you couldn’t sleep. The sound of the wave crashing against the boat, the light of the moon piercing through your window, the loud snoring duel between Zoro and Luffy and finally your brain who just couldn’t stop to think.

Turning on your other side for the fifth time, you let out a loud sigh. It was the third night in a row you couldn’t sleep. You had tried various techniques, from a marvelous tea prepared by Sanji, to sleeping outside. But neither the tea, things that seem to shock the best chef of the east blue, nor the traditional method had succeeded.

Getting down from your hammock, resolute to finally sleep, you exited without a sound your room. Making your way to a particular door, you slowly knock, guilt twisting your gust.

It didn’t take long for Sanji to open the door, even if you could tell by the state of his hair and simple black boxer he was wearing that he, on the contrary of you, was deeply in dreamland just a few minutes ago. 

“ Y/N, everything is okay darling ? “ He asked, a yawn on his lips. 

“ I can’t sleep again “ You confessed, your eyes admiring the view of his half naked body.  

“ Oh then we will try another tea, I wrote a recipe here, I had some idea of why the one before didn’t work but…“  The blond reply, returning in the room, letting the door open behind him. 

“ No Sanji, I need another small favor in fact “ You reply, following him in the room, closing the door behind you. 

 “ Everything you need mon coeur” The man replied, now clearly curious.

Traveling the small space between you, your gaze never leaving his, you slowly put your hand on his chest, lifting them slowly, brushing his skin with your fingertip until finally you join them behind his neck.

“ Sanji…please fuck me “ You softly ask. 

In an instant, you felt the hard wall press behind your back and his strong hands on your hips pinning you in place, his lips lingering only few minimeter of yours. 

“ I thought you would never ask” He groaned, taking possession of your lips.

The kisses of Sanji’s were exactly like him, passionate but gentle. Every move of his lips over yours, every exchange of breath or flip of his tongues against yours make you shiver or moan of pleasure. When his hands, like in a ballet in harmonie with his mouth, were exploring the soft skin of your breast under your still clothes body. 

Leaving your face to pepper kiss the valley between your neck and your shoulder. You felt one of his hands slide slowly between your legs, his thumb already rubbing in slow circles your clit. 

“ You're already so wet” He smiled, kissing the column of your throat  “ Did you start without me ? “ 

“I tried to masturbate, it didn't work out” You confessed, as you caressed the surface of his back, leaving yourself some kisses on his broad shoulders, your eyes heavy with lust. 

“ Then I will have to try, don’t you think, Prunelle de mes yeux *. Maybe I wasn’t enough in your mind"  (* Apple of my eye) 

Putting down your pants alongside your panties. He seductively left a last kiss on your lips before kneeling before you, his thumb traveling lazily between the lips of your pussy before teasing your clit.

Licking you first with long strokes with the flat of his tongue, moaning when your fingers buried himself on his golden hair. He then proceeds to alterne with the tip of his tongue creating a devilish prequel to the main course.  

After a while his tongue seems everywhere, driving you crazy, eating you out like if you were the best meal of his life. Sanji took his time to suck your clit as his finger was sliding in you in a pace you could only think as delicious torture. 

As promised, your mind had cleared everythings who’s isn’t related to him and the pleasure he slowly build in your belly. 

“ Oh fuck, soo good, Sanji please more…more…” You whine, your knees shaking as his two fingers pushed further in you.

Still pin at the wall with his large hand on your stomach. Your hands in his hair, trying to keep your sanity. You could feel him smile against the flushed skin of your thigh as the speed of his finger increased and he kissed once more your pussy with his open mouth, reducing you as a babbling mess. 

“ Sanji I…Sanji !” You cried, becoming temporarily mute as the pressure built in your body and your orgasm struck you like lightning, making your knees buckled.

Catching you up before you fell on the floor, Sanji brought you to his desk, sitting you on the plane surface. 

“ Y/N can you spread your legs a little?” He gently asked. 

“ Sanji I will need a minute here” You laugh, still coming down from the previous orgasm. 

“ I know darling I only want to engrave in my brain how you look so beautiful half naked and pleasure high spread on my desk.” He replies, smiling, his lips still glossy of your juice.

“ You’re a pervert “ You joked, spreading your legs for him to see. 

“ Say the girl who wake me up to be fuck until she fall asleep “ He responded, inserting himself between your legs as he bring you closer to the edge for a toe curling kiss ,removing in a fluid moves his boxer, letting him totally naked.

You took the time, as he broke your embrace to extract you from your tank top, to admire, again, the splendors of all his physique. Not that you hadn’t noticed before, you had eyes of course and the man fully dressed was already worth being seen. But having him like that, smiling, as his muscular body overlooks yours, his cock already erect just for you, makes you so happy to have insomnia that night.

Advancing your hand to take his cock, smoothly initiating a move of up and down, you smiled when you heard him moan in the crock of your neck. 

“ Is that good ? “

You didn’t hear the response he muttered,  but as his hand stopped yours to push the tips of his dick on your entrance, you decided that you truly didn’t care.

Thrusting at a slow pace, letting your body adjust to him, the best cook of the east blue was clearly starting to lose the battles with his self-control when your hips joined him in the movement in a way more high cadence. Moaning your name like a prayer, sucking your nipples like if they were made of candy, his hand shaking slightly, he gladly followed your change of regime, making you back arch and welcoming every one of your whine and moan like if they were gift from a goddess herself. 

“ Yes, like that, please just like that Yes” You praised him, your second orgasm near. 

“ Yes Madam” Sanji groaned on your lips with his damn proud smile,rubbing your clit. “ But i’m not done with you yet” 

Your forehead pressed against his, your eyes closed, you exploded for the second time that night.

Your brain, still in a blissful fog, became sadly aware of the hollowed sensation in your pussy when he removed his dick as well as the trail of open mouth kisses Sanji left on your breast before helping you get down off the desk. 

Turning you around, exposing your ass in just the right angle. You loudly gasped when he filled you again, making you wonder if you didn’t get yourself a new addiction. But, if you did, you wouldn’t be alone. Sanji, behind you was a total mess, his breath frantic, thrusting in you like he found in your warm core a new religion beside, of course,the food. 

As your nail was scratching small strides in the wax on his dark wood desk , leaving him physically something to remember that night, you could feel his own orgasm coming.

“ So…so close mon coeur '' He moaned, before letting out a groan of satisfaction as the pleasure finally took him.  

Crying your last moans, your breath panting, you felt his chest trapping you against the wood panel as he slowly regained his composure, whispering sweet praise in your ear.

 “ You know what mon coeur, forget the tea, I will exhaust you everytime you can’t sleep“ 

—

Press against Sanji's chest in his small hammock, your eyes heavy from fatigue, you smiled. 

“ Thank you for the favor” You laugh, yawning.   

“ Anytime Madam” Sanji quietly laughed, his own eyes closing, as you both drifted in the better sleep you had. 

[movedto-mrs-bluemarine]

₣ Ɨ Ł € : Ǥ Ħ Ø Ş Ŧ

(B*gtop Burger S/i)

Let's goo first masc s/i!! I tried I really did to make Ghost use fem pronouns but it didn't feel right. Cesare is just too gay.

I don't trust myself to draw them and picrews wouldn't do him justice so just bare with me.

AGE: ? ? ?

PRONOUNS: HE/THEY

ADJECTIVES: TIRED & CHAOTIC

OCCUPATION: I've been debating making them an actual criminal who runs scams online or someone who sells Zomburg merchandise outside of his van for outrageous prices. Either way he's making bank

LIKES: Nu-metal & other sub genres, rock, sushi, slasher flicks, coffee, unironically enjoys Ghost and Nickelback as well

DISLIKES: Not much, they're pretty chill, except country music

LOVE LANGUAGE: Calling people "Dude" (unless asked not to)

BIGGEST INSPOS: Our king Matthew Lillard circa 1990-2000 and maybe also Jesse Pikmin for his tboy swag

Working for Zomburger, Ghost's outfits are a bash of punk and gaudy/gothic makeup. Like their name suggests, he really likes dressing up ghostly while he's on the clock. The rest of the crew at Zomburger didn't know he and Cesare were dating until they outright said so, and just assumed Ghost was a new coworker that had major tension with their boss. He gets along well with the rest, and likes to go to the gym with Conrad. He follows Zomburger around in his van, where he and Cesare also "sleep" (sleep in Ghost's case, Cesare just likes to lay around). Surprisingly, he doesn't smell too bad, and Ghost likes how cold he is, makes for a good sleeping buddy in the summer.

Outside of work he keeps his bulky ass boots and cargo pants with whatever band shirt he can find or a crop top. Their hair is short and platinum blond, and he styles it in spikes that are dyed black at the tips. And he has snake bite piercings hehe. And BLACK LIPSTICK.

Dare I add on.... top scars..... And they're the over the top kind that look super badass, because everything is a statement with Ghost.

When they first met they always pronounced Cesare's name as "Caesar". Based on true experiences. I'm a fool. He only stopped after someone else said his name correctly.

They both met after Ghost came out of a rave, it was love at first sight. Ghost thought Cesare was wearing mad cool makeup at the time, but after figuring out he was actually undead, he was cool with that too.

Their first kiss was at a Slipknot concert.

Ghost neither stops nor enables Cesare and Zomburger's shenanigans against Bigtop. Instead he does whatever he thinks is the funniest.

[kiatheinsomniac]

⋆    ⁺   ｡ ˚   ⊹ °  . 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ˎ :ˊ-

❝Name: Alexandra, but my best friend calls me Sasha (Russian short version)  Gender: sex is female but tbh, I always thought of myself as an individual and not strictly male or female. I don't know what this is called :/  Sexuality: I once thought I'm bi, but I never enjoyed sex with my ex. I find men and women attractive equally but don't feel any specific sexual attraction, even though I do have some fantasies about a specific fictional character. So I think the best that would describe me would be demi bi sexual, or some sort of it. I apologise for the long elaboration  Appearance: neither skinny nor heavy. I'd say a good middle (I used to be obese and have stretch marks in hips and thighs, but I also was anorexic, now I'm happy to be in between with slight curves and a few muscles that slowly show themselves as I'm working out quite a bit), brown hair till past shoulders, brown eyes, high cheekbones. I'm around 176 cm tall  Personality: I can be impatient, but when it comes to others or animals I'm very patient. I like the nature and animals, sort of pagan believe, I like reading and drawing but also action as I used to race in horses (barrel race but also carriage races), I'm seeking adventure and have done a lot of crazy stuff, like skydive, hitch hiking and other stunts (when I was younger though). I still like a good adrenaline rush but in a controlled way. I like horse riding and motorcycling (again controlled in a good manner). Both give me a feeling of freedom. I guess I could be described as sporty. I'm empathic but also stubborn.  Coming from a family where domestic violence was used to break me and make me follow what I was expected to do and how to behave. I need time to warm up to people. While I'm friendly to strangers, it takes a really long time until I warm up and even longer to let a person in and trust that person. But once a person is' in my inner circle', I'm loyal and protective.  I love walking barefoot (something that pissed my parents off and I received a few bruises for that, still liking it though). I love a good banter between friends, and can be sassy (when I feel comfortable around the person). I also tease and appreciate the small things in life, I don't need big presents or anything but am quite happy when I can be with the people I hold dear and enjoy the time with them, if it's a calm evening or some adventure/action.  Oh, and I don't wear dresses! I feel uncomfortable in them! No high heels either. Not very practical.❞ — @havatnah

I ship you with Aragorn! 

Aragorn loves your balance of adventurousness as well as your appreciation for reading and drawing. Being raised by Elrond and his twins, Aragorn is both a ranger and erudite. He really admires how you’re in touch with nature and are so patient and gentle with animals. He’s exactly the same and these traits are very core to his personality so he admires how you share these values of his. He really enjoys riding horses with you because he feels he gets to see your adventurous spirit in its element. He also enjoys sharing books from Elrond’s library with you! In fact, it’s likely how he’d first approach you: he would simply observe to see what sort of books you’ve been reading and would find some that he thinks you’d enjoy, bringing them to you and start up a conversation about you and your interests. 

He’s quite fond of your more practical dress sense and the lack of heels and dresses as it’s the sort of clothing he’s more accustomed to wearing too as a ranger. Also, it seems that going barefoot isn’t too uncommon for elves so he doesn’t find it unusual at all. He admires your loyalty and protectiveness of your loved ones as he finds these to be very noble traits and they just make you all the more brilliant in his eyes. 

♡ Aragorn is very fond of horses so to find out that you enjoy things like horse riding and racing excites him quite a bit. He’ll often invite you to join him when he’s out patrolling the lands around Rivendell. He really enjoys your company and it’s nice to have an experienced rider with him who’s as gentle and respectful to horses as he is. He always gets a thrill racing you too (though he won’t admit it, he often lets you win just to see your smile and hear your sass – it’s very endearing to him). 

♡ He’s spent late evenings in Elrond’s library with you too. Should he ever find a book in an elven tongue you don’t understand but he thinks you’ll enjoy, he’ll sit with one arm around you and the book open across your laps as he holds you close and translates for you. He doesn’t want any door to be closed to you if he thinks you’ll find any sort of happiness and joy on the other side. 

♡ He’s noticed that you take a while to warm up to people and so when he was first getting to know you, he took things slowly and always paid attention to your expressions and body language to make sure he’d never make you uncomfortable. He’s a gentleman to his very core and so he started with suggesting books to you, talking about your interests, inviting you on patrols to ride together and then getting you gifts and making romantic gestures. 

♡ He always makes sure you get the softer bedroll when bringing you on patrols means that you have to camp out for the night. He finds that he’s more vigilant keeping watch as he wants to make sure he can protect you from any possible dangers lurking out there. Once you’re asleep, if it gets cold, he’s quick to add more wood to the fire and to take off his cloak and lay it over your body, tucking you in so that no drafts can get under the warm cloak that he’s using like a blanket. 

♡ Due to your love for nature, he loves going on little rambles and tangents about which plant or bark does what and it means a lot to him when you listen or you put his little ramblings to use. There are so many little things you do that just bring a smile to his face and he won’t even realise when he’s looking at you like a lovesick puppy. You have so many traits that he just finds so noble in a person. In a way, he looks up to you and who you are and what you’ve been through a lot. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

[nymphbnny]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.6k

tags/warnings: penetrative sex, dom jean, fingering, praising kink, slight body worship, dirty talk, sneaky.

synopsis: your recent discovery makes you certain that you won't be able to control yourself around him and neither will he, hence you decide that it was time to make an agreement that was rather spicy.

a.n: hey babies! so i finally decided to turn this into a short series since some of you were intrigued with the idea of having a continuation for the previous part i wrote. i hope you like it, enjoy <3

“How was I supposed to know?!” I yelled as soon as Jean exited our apartment. I had put on a random t-shirt to follow Connie to his room, trying to convince him that I had no idea that I fucked his best friend.

“Y/n he literally told you his name is Jean and he was attending my party. You’re acting as you’ve never seen him before!” he scolded taking off his shirt and throwing it across his room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Connie. The last time I saw Jean I was 16 and he didn’t look like that. He’s so fucking different now how was I supposed to know. And to be fair, he was studying abroad for I don’t know how many years, how was I supposed to know that he metamorphosed like that.” I motioned my arm out, my other hand resting on my hip.

He groaned, rubbing his temples before he looked back at me. “Look,” he spoke softly. “I don’t want to fight with you over this okay? You’re right, I should’ve told you that he was coming back. He graduated a year ago and was considering coming back to his hometown, here. Let’s just forget it all happened okay? It’s a simple misunderstanding.” I nodded, resting my head on his chest as he embraced me into a tight hug.

“Now go take a shower you reek of sex.” he snickered earning a punch on his arm. He winced rubbing his flesh, a proud smile setting on my face.

***

The week went by smoothly. I told Sasha and Hitch what happened and they both had different reactions. Hitch was gushing over the sex and Sasha on the other hand confessed that she forgot to mention that Jean was coming back to stay here. It’s okay though. We all passed it and I was working my ass off to finally graduate.

Connie was spending his days with Jean, which granted me a lot of peace and tranquility. At least, that’s what I thought.

I hadn’t spoken to Jean ever since we hooked up, figured that Connie already explained the whole situation and moved on.

Three knocks on my door broke my focus, a loud frustrated sigh leaving my lips. “What Connie!”

“Actually,” a voice on the other side of the door caught me off guard. “It’s Kirschtein. Can I come in?” A knot formed in my throat.

“Sure.” he turned the knob, slowly coming in. “Connie knows I’m here by the way.” I nodded, adjusting my seat.

“What’s up?” the tension was awkward. The tension shouldn’t even be present in the first place. But how could I not get aroused when he was wearing a black tank top showing off the tattoos on his sleeves with a pair of sweats. He looked effortlessly attractive.

“- and like I said it will never happen again. Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. Never happen again. I’m very sorry but I need to finish this assignment.” He chuckled and nodded leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I just make him talk to himself because I was too busy checking him out?

I shook my head, assuming that whatever he said wasn’t worth my time. Time went by rather quickly and the assignment was done earlier than I expected. It was already ten pm, and I had promised the girls I was going to meet up with them for some drinks.

I picked my outfit and applied some makeup. Simple and effective. We were going to spend the night at Sasha’s so I didn’t make much effort to look hot.

The place was empty when I left and I assumed that Connie was helping Jean to rent an apartment for himself.

Sasha’s place wasn’t very far from mine. As a matter of fact, it only took me ten minutes to get there. Once I got there, the girls were already ordering pizza and picking out some movies to watch.

“Hey whores.” I greeted them, earning cheers from Hitch and Sasha. “Oh my god, Mikasa I missed you!” I rushed to the dark-haired girl who was sitting on the couch and engulfed her into a tight hug. I haven’t seen Mikasa since I moved with Connie. We used to live together, but after she and Eren got together, he wouldn’t leave her alone. So I figured it would be best if I left and lived with my brother.

“I missed you too! I looked for you everywhere at that party where were you?” she asked taking a sip of her soda. Hitch began coughing dramatically as Sasha giggled next to her. “Oh quit it.” I teased rolling my eyes.

I ended up telling her everything, her face displaying a plethora of expressions. “I mean, Jean did change I can’t argue with that. But didn’t he recognize you?”

I shrugged. “I changed too. Puberty hit me like a truck.”

“Cheers to that.” Hitch raised her cup. We laughed and talked for hours. I missed going out with them like that. Fortunately, college will be over soon and I’ll have some time for myself.

Movies were playing in the background but we paid them no mind. We ate our food and cleaned the living room, not wanting to bother Sasha with the cleaning since she was having Niccolo over tomorrow.

I glanced at the clock that was hanging above the door. I gathered my stuff and tucked them in my bag, drawing all of their eyes on me.

“Already? Come on stay longer!” Sasha whined. I smiled softly at her and shook my head.

“I can’t, I’ll see you guys soon.” I waved at them and walked out of the door.

***

“Connie! I’m ho- what are you still doing here?” I froze at the entrance, my keys still hanging from my index finger, my eyes fixated on him as he only stood in basketball shorts.

“What do you mean what am I still doing here. I moved in here remember?”

Silence. Nothing but intense and awkward silence. Moved in? Since when?

“I told you when I came into your room. Weren’t you listening to me?” I stared at him blankly, not able to explain how caught in thought I was when he came into my room. I was too busy checking him out to care about what he was trying to tell me.

“Why didn’t Connie tell me?” I closed the door and locked it slowly, my legs feeling weak, the idea of living with him and seeing him walking around like that making me weak. And extremely horny.

“He said he’d rather if I told you. You know, break the ice.” he shrugged and walked forward, his chest now a few inches apart from mine. “You changed a lot from what I remember.” he lowly said tucking my hair behind my ear.

“So did you,” I replied, staring at his lips. He licked his bottom lip and held my chin between his fingers, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

I was a sweating mess. I still couldn’t believe that this was Jean, the horse face. What kind of water did he drink, and how did he get so big? Look at those muscles-

A sudden feeling on my lips interrupted my chain of thoughts. I soon realized that he held my bottom lip between his brown ones. “Kiss me back y/n, I know you want to,” he whispered, his breath brushing up my face.

It didn’t take me long to pull him to me, crashing my lips on his. He was intoxicating in ways I couldn’t understand nor explain. I needed him close to me at the moment and I didn’t care why.

“Yo, Jean where did you my video game?!” Connie’s voice boomed from the hallway, forcing us apart. Realization slapped my face when I looked at him and saw his cocky smirk. I just kissed him, even though I promised myself I’d never do anything with him ever again.

“I’ll get it!” he yelled back, the same expression resting on his face, his back facing the hallway. “I’d apologize, but you pulled me back. Anyway, I’ll see around beautiful.” he winked and began walking towards Connie’s room, his back muscles flexing at his movements.

What am I doing with myself?

***

The atmosphere felt nice. I couldn’t sleep so instead I lied down on my bed and watched the stars from my window. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened hours ago and how I had to sit with them and pretend as nothing happened.

Jean was certainly not the little boy he was years ago. He got more confident and a lot more handsome. He was fucking with me and I thought, why shouldn’t I fuck with him too?

After all, I know for sure he didn’t tell Connie anything. He’s too protective of me and if he knew, well let’s just say Jean would be moving out by tomorrow. He trusts him blindly and I honestly just think he doesn’t want me to hook up with him again because he’s just like him.

He likes to mess around. Not the type to stay in the morning after. But neither was I. I sighed and dragged my legs out of bed, my body following.

“Shit now I gotta pee,” I whined stomping slightly on the wooden floor. I ruffled my hair with my hand and slipped on my slippers. I was wearing Connie’s t-shirt, so it was long enough to hide my thighs.

I walked to the bathroom when suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into the guest bedroom. My mouth was quick to be silenced by another hand as I was about to squeal.

My back collided with the wall, my hands pinned on each side of my head.

“Jean let me go.” I struggled to get out of his grasp but he kept grinning at me. “Sure.” He let go of his grasp.

I looked around to notice a towel on his bed. “I was going to take a shower but then I heard your footsteps, couldn’t let you get there before I did.” He walked away, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Is that all?” I cocked my eyebrow, crossing my arms. He looked me up and down before saying: “You tell me. Need anything else?”

I looked at him briefly, calculating my next move. “An agreement. Connie can’t know.”

“Fuck yeah.” he dropped his towel and stepped closer to me, holding my face with his hands as he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back instantly, my fingers finding their way through his hair.

His tongue slipped in, caressing mine. His hands went down my body to squeeze my ass, pulling me even closer to him. My hands traveled across his bare chest, going over his pecs and then gliding one hand down his abs, while the other sat on his shoulder.

We pulled apart, his arms going under my thighs to pull me up and sit me onto the mattress. He walked to the door, locking it before he looked back at me.

Jean crawled over my body, caging me between his arms. “Divine.” he smiled and sat up, his hands tugging at my top. I helped him take it off and threw it on his chair. I was nude underneath him. It wasn’t the first time, yet he still looked mesmerized.

He licked his lips, his fingers tracing my cunt before dipping into my entrance. I arched my back at the sudden intrusion, trying my best to remain quiet.

“I missed your little cunt.” he chuckled massaging my insides slowly. I gasped, my hand immediately covering my mouth.

He rubbed my bud with his thumb, his pace never changing. It was torturing and slow, but I knew we couldn’t make a lot of noise nor make lots of movements that could awake Connie. We had to go nice and easy.

My legs squirmed, the combination of playing my nipples and watching him touch like he does driving me to the edge. My eyes rolled to the back as he added a third finger, my walls clenching tightly around them as I felt myself orgasm around them. “Good girl.” he praised with a chuckle, removing his fingers from my opening.

“Suck your juices off come on.” he tapped my hand, motioning me to remove it and take his fingers in. I stuck my tongue out, his ling digits finding their way down my throat making me slightly gag. “I didn’t know you were such an obedient girl.” he cooed, as I sucked off my arousal.

Jean sat back up, removing his shorts along with his briefs, his erection slapping on my lower stomach. “As much as I’d love you to suck me,” he paused pumping his cock. “I have to say that I miss being inside you.” And with that, he slid all the way in, his mouth silencing my moans.

He stayed still for a while, his eyes staring into mine intensely, almost as if he was trying to tell me something. I nodded my head, his hips moving at my signal. His thrusts were slow and deep, going over every spot. I wrapped my arms around him, my forehead resting against his, as he breathed heavily.

“I want to fuck you dumb, but he’ll hear your moans.” he taunted rolling his hips, his tip almost hitting my cervix. “So good.” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him, my heels digging into his lower back.

“Jean…” I was close and my legs were a shaking mess. “That’s right baby, say my name.” he breathed in my ear, slightly speeding up his thrusts. I bit onto his shoulder, my orgasm ripping through my body.

I tightened around him, his strokes getting sloppier. It came to my attention that he wasn’t wearing protection, and I wasn’t about to get adventurous like last time. “Jean… pull out…”

“Beg.” was his only reply to which I complied. “Please, anywhere, just not-“ He harshly pulled out, and instead of jerking himself on my stomach, he reached up to straddle my chest and stroked himself. “Open.”

I stuck my tongue out, his hand now replaced with mine as I jerked him off, ropes of cum shooting down my throat. “Such a good girl.” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over his face.

He got off me and pulled his hair back using both hands, his naked body walking around the bed to grab some tissues. He cleaned off my arousal and handed me some to clean the corners of my lips.

“If only you could see how messed up you look,” he smirked and threw me my t-shirt before grabbing his towel and sliding on his shorts.

I put on my top and got off his bed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and internally yelled at myself. I looked like a mess. My hair was tangled and my skin was all sweaty. Guess I have to take a shower too.

I looked over at Jean to see him staring at me with an amused look on his face. “What?” I cocked my eyebrow. He shrugged and smiled at me. “Connie and I are going out to get some lunch tomorrow. What’d you say?” he requested.

“I mean yeah sure. But Jean he can-“

“Can’t know alright.” he rolled his eyes. We stared at each other for a minute before I decided to leave his room.

As I made my way past him, his hand flew to cup my swollen cunt. “This belongs to me.”

[hoes4dylanobrien]

Mets Dylan (AU miniseries) 4/?

a/n: I'm on a rolllll. I'm also realizing I'm basing this Dylan au off his slut era and I'm not sorry. I AM sorry that this is trash tho but at least I'm enjoying myself?? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Give a sis a like 

tw: mentions of drug use, swearing, dylan being dumb cute

taglist: @roxic93​

“It’s not what it looked like,” were the words that immediately flew from your mouth. 

Ray and Tom, Dylan’s manager and head coach for the Mets, glanced up from their huddled conversation when you entered.

“We’re not here to accuse you of anything,” Ray said, just as Tom bellowed, “the hell we aren't! We’re paying you to STOP problems from occurring, not create them!!” 

Neither you nor Ray said anything for a beat, knowing the hothead coach often reacted harsher than intended. He continued to go on a tear as he paced the length of the room:

“And I’ve told that boy a thousand times: watch yourself at all times. Don’t matter if you’re out there or in your own home. Nowhere’s safe when you’re in the public eye the way he is. All it takes is one money-grubbing-”

“My bad, ‘M late to the party. What’d I miss?” Dylan greeted. He was wearing the hungover special: loose shirt, sweats, sneakers and sunglasses. His hair somehow looked good, and he was clean-shaven. Even with alcohol poisoning, he looked gorgeous. You could smell the intoxicating aftershave from here. 

You wince at Dylan’s choice of wording, seeing coach about to blow his head clear off he was so mad. If they were in a cartoon, he might’ve. 

“Boy-”

It was almost comical the way that he lurched at his star player, Dylan’s eyes widening in fear (you assumed, he was wearing pitch black ray bans) at the sight. 

“Shit, Tom. I know I screwed up, but-

“Screwed up....Naw.... screwed up would’a been swearing in front of little kids. What you did has tarnished our brand. You know we have families, little children that look up to you and your teammates? That’s all blown to hell, now.” 

Dylan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Fuck, I didn’t think-”

‘Yeah, that’s the problem, Dyl. You don’t think. Too busy thinkin’ with the other head.” 

To your surprise a light blush appeared on his pale cheeks, either from shame, or the reference to his junk, or both. You almost were starting to feel bad for him; it was nothing compared to how he spoke to you and Ray - coach was really chewing him out. And you knew how much Dylan, how much all of the players really, idolized Tom. It was no doubt like a double punch to the gut to have him so angry and disappointed in him.

“If I may,” you cleared your throat, drawing their attention away from Dylan to you. “And I know I’ve not got a lot of leeway here given I was also caught at the party, but I didn’t see Dylan doing any drugs. I know that’s a low bar but I did see a lot of others at the party doing so, and given the opportunity but choosing not to do it... well, I just think that should count for something.” 

Everyone was quiet as attention turned back to Tom. “Sure,” he grumbled, “but I’ve got no way of verifying that, and neither do readers.” 

“That’s...true, technically. I guess it comes down to your trust in Dylan in the time you’ve known him. I haven't for very long, but he doesn’t strike me as the type to lie. About this, anyhow. I can’t vouch for much of anything else on his behalf, but when it comes to this, I believe him.” 

You turned to smile at him, then, just a small smile. He returned it cautiously. 

“Fine, but that’s just ONE of the stupid ass things he got himself into. What about the strippers? Can’t tell me he didn’t get involved in that, there’s proof all over the internet!” 

“....” 

“That’s what I thought.” Tom grumbled some more, starting up his pacing again.  There’d be a hole in the carpet at the rate he was going. “Way I see it we got two choices. Since you’re the ringleader here - yeah, I know Josh and Brady and the others are there, but it was at your place, and you were front and center of the cover - you can either take some time off the team, we’ll put out a statement, and we’ll let this die down-”

“Coach, you can’t be serious!- Dylan blurted out.

“OR,” Tom interjected, temper flaring up again, “you can stay on the team, play out the rest of the games of the season, and lay low for a while. That means no parties, and not a foot within the distance of a stripper.” 

Dylan smirked. “That doesn’t sound so bad...”

“You didn’t let me finish,” he said. “If you go with option two, I’m going to be making damn sure you’re toeing the line.” 

“How’s that?” Dylan arched a thick brow, licking his lips nervously. When Tom swiveled his head your way you knew whatever he was cooking up in that brain of his would somehow involve yours truly. And not in any type of way you’d want.

“That’s where y/n comes in.” Your stomach drops. “Pack your bags, you’re moving to New York.” 

[bonjour-rainycity]

Cold Shoulder

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Rating: T 

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable. Also, I edited after a glass of wine. So. I think I shall blame any mistakes on that. 

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

Request: Aragorn x Reader where he protects the reader but she is mad at him because of that and gives him a silent shoulder. Much fluff please (Anon)

A/n Anon, thank you for the request!! I enjoyed writing this and love me some Aragorn content <3 Also, for context, I placed the reader in the Fellowship. Okay, read on!

The sharp cry pierces the peace of the early morning.

“Orcs!”

Legolas, who had been standing watch and discovered the threat, immediately begins firing arrows, keeping the pack at bay. The rest of us spring into action, drawing weapons and shouldering our bags, looking to Aragorn to determine our next move. Despite the jolt of fear that runs through me, I know that luck is on our side. For one, our group had planned to set out shortly, meaning our camp is packed and we run no risk of leaving anything behind. Second, it was Legolas on watch, and his keen eyesight gave us critical early warning.

I feel a rough hand wrap around mine, and I’m yanked into a sprint. I nearly stumble at the speed Aragorn sets, but force myself to keep pace. A quick look at my surroundings tells me why we’re running — our camp is secluded, but there are too many high spots around us for it to be favorable in a fight. I can assume that we are making for higher or more open ground, so that we will not be at a disadvantage when the orc pack inevitably catches us.

There’s a muffled yelp, and I whip my head around to see Frodo tripping and falling roughly to the ground.

“Aragorn—” His name has barely left my lips when I feel his hands on my back, spurring me on, and he leaves my side, running back to aid our hobbit friend. Closer than I would like, the wails of the orc grow louder, and, at my right, Boromir speeds up, hauling Merry along with him.

The three of us break through the tree-line first, and immediately, an arrow whizzes above my head.

Damn it, they cut us off!

I don’t have much time to dwell on how the monsters got around us unnoticed, because a tall, imposing orc lunges in my direction. I raise my dagger and put all my focus into not letting the orc’s razor-sharp sword pierce my skin.

The shrieks and grunts of battle, as well as the shrill clanking of metal hitting metal fill the air. The orc jabs his sword at me, and I jump to my left. As the orc takes another swing, an arrow soars mere millimeters from my ear and imbeds itself in my attacker’s eye. I don’t even have time to shoot Legolas a thankful glance, because another beast catches my arm and pulls me against his foul-smelling side. I swipe at his arm with my dagger, and with a howl of pain, he throws me to the ground, raising his sword. I roll to the side, narrowly dodging the slice of steel, and push myself back to my feet. The orc is distracted, struggling with his weapon which is embedded in the ground, leaving the side of his neck exposed. I lift my dagger, and step forward, intent on ending this fight—

An arm grips my waist and pulls me back, moving me out of the way and slaying the orc.

I gawk at Aragorn, who, with the focused eyes of battle, rips his sword free of the orc’s neck and spins, killing a beast to his right.

“I had it,” I shout over the noise, unable to contain my frustration.

Aragorn straightens to face me, eyes wide. “Your back!”

Immediately, I turn on my heel and raise my dagger, pushing against the knife meant to impale my unguarded back. The orc is stronger than me, but if I can hold him off for just a few seconds more, I can reach for my other dagger and stab him in the stomach. As my hand twitches towards my belt, a sword passes around my side, impaling the orc with a sickening squelch.

Once again, I fix Aragorn with disbelieving eyes.

What was the point of investing all that time training me if I don’t get to use any of said training?!

The sounds of battle begin to fade, and, with a final swing of Gimili’s axe, the fighting is done.

We take stock of our injuries which are, thankfully, minor, and pull the dead orc deep into the tree line, not wanting to draw attention to our path. After the quickest of rests and a wash-up in the stream, we continue, Aragorn insisting that we cannot take any unnecessary delays now that we have orc interested in us.

We begin our trek, mostly in tired silence.

At the front of the group, Aragorn and Legolas do a mixture of scouting and chatting, seeming more relaxed the farther we get from the site of the attack. Aragorn doesn’t usually walk with me, preferring instead to lead with Legolas and keep an eye out for danger. Usually, I wish he would stay by my side, but today, I am grateful for the distance, as I’m not feeling too kindly towards him at the moment. I can’t stop myself from glaring at his back, resenting him taking away my right to handle myself in battle. But after an hour of lonely overthinking, resentment gives way to insecurity. What if he only jumped in because he thinks I’m weak? He’s probably not the only one…compared to everyone else, what advantages do I have? They probably all, to some extent, see me as a burden.

Gimli jogs up next to me, fixing me with a mildly concerned look.

“You alright, lassie? Not hurt, are ya?”

Aragorn’s head tilts in our direction. He’s listening.

Unable to contain my annoyance at his continued monitoring, I huff. “I’m fine, Gimli, thanks. Just tired.”

Gimli looks at the ground, seemingly unable to reconcile my usual friendliness with this foul mood. “Aye, well, t’is to be expected, after the morning we had. You fought well.”

I cross my arms, cocking my head to the side. “Did I? Because, as I remember it, I was barely allowed to fight at all.”

At this, I hear light sniggering behind me, and whip my head around to see a quickly composed Merry and Pippin looking anywhere but me.

Gimli makes a sighing, almost grumbling noise, and walks off to join his friends at the front of the group. Aragorn hangs back a little, waiting for me to catch up before resuming a slower pace.

“What troubles you?”

Getting right to the chase, then.

I huff angrily, my annoyance from this morning only growing now that I’ve had hours to stew about it. Because really, I am well-trained, I am capable, and he had no business neglecting his own safety to help me when I wasn’t in any actual danger. I had it all under control! And rather than feeling like a warrior equal with my companions, I feel like a girl who just slows them down and needs babysitting.

Aragorn stops walking and grips my elbow lightly, pulling me to stop with him. “I cannot help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

I glare at him. Can I handle nothing on my own?! “Well, maybe I don’t want your help, Aragorn.”

He sighs, sounding frustrated, but lets me go.

Neither of us makes an attempt to talk to the other for the remainder of our hike.

{***}

We stop when it is well and properly dark, making hasty camp. I drop my bedroll and begin preparing for the night, cleaning my dagger and shoes as best I can. The others sit on rocks near the fire, eyeing me warily.

Pippin elbows Merry and hisses in a low voice,“go and talk to her, something’s obviously wrong with her.”

Merry’s eyes grow comically wide, and he fixes his friend with an indignant expression. “Why does it have to be me, then?! I don’t want to get yelled at.”

“Because I checked on Frodo last Thursday when he was in a mood, and now it’s your turn.”

“I didn’t realize we were taking turns,” Merry whisper-shouts, oblivious to the fact that everyone can hear their argument just fine.

Sam fixes them with a pleading look before glancing over to me. “Miss Y/n, do you not want supper?” He hesitantly holds a bowl in my general direction.

“No, thank you,” I respond, cooler than intended. He blinks at me for a moment, and then hands the bowl to an amused Boromir.

I feel the weight of everyone’s questioning stares, hear their hushed whispers, and cannot take it one moment longer.

“I’m going to get more firewood,” I declare, tucking my dagger back into my belt and trudging deeper into the forest.

The woods are dark, but there is sufficient light from the moon, and I pick my way through the trees, looking for fallen logs and branches. I don’t stray to where I can no longer hear the voices of my friends, though — I may be angry, but I’m not stupid.

Less than two minutes later, the sound of light footsteps creeps into my hearing.

Aragorn walks to my side, bending to grasp and examine a log that might make for good firewood. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “Sam put aside some soup for you, though I would not delay if you wish to eat it. I saw Pippin eyeing it with interest.”

When I don’t laugh or give any indication that I heard him, he shifts on his feet, unsure. “I feel tension between us. I’ve upset you?”

I make a noncommittal noise and go a few yards deeper in the forest.

“Y/n?”

With a resigned sigh, I turn to face him, knowing that my silence is hurting him. “It’s stupid.”

Obviously pleased that I’m speaking to him now, Aragorn takes quick steps towards me, wearing an open expression. “If I have done something to hurt you, you have every right to be upset.”

I resist the urge to groan. Stop being so good and noble, it makes it hard to stay mad at you. I reign in my frustrations and sigh, forcing myself to look him in the eyes. “I feel like the weakest link. I’m the youngest, the only woman, I don’t possess any special abilities or extensive battle experience. I put a lot of work into being competent with my daggers, and still there are days when I question my right to be here with you all. So when you jump in to protect me, well-intentioned as you may be, I feel like a child that needs looking after rather than someone capable of standing her own ground.”

His face falls, and discomfort spreads in my stomach. But before I can apologize and take back my words, he offers his hands, and I take them gratefully.

“I did not consider how my actions would make you feel, though I understand now. Forgive me, Y/n?”

At his heartfelt words, my anger ebbs away. I use my grip on his hands to pull him closer and rest my forehead against his chest. “Of course.”

He pulls back slightly to bring my hands to his lips, pressing kisses on my knuckles. “I intervened during the fight not because I think you incapable, but because I wanted to keep you as much removed from the danger as possible. You are precious to me, Y/n. I won’t risk losing you.”

At this, he leans his forehead against mine, and I can’t help how I soften at his words. I didn’t think about it like that. “There is the slightest possibility that I may have accidentally overreacted a little.”

Aragorn rewards me with a deep chuckle, one I can feel vibrating through his chest, and shakes his head against mine. “Are you sure, my love? I think ignoring me all day was a completely proportionate response.”

I roll my eyes at the dripping sarcasm in his voice and raise a hand to smack his chest. Before I can get anywhere near him, his own hand shoots out and grabs my wrist —  an act that has me grumbling in irritation and him shaking with laughter. Once he regains composure, he brings my wrist to his lips and places the softest of kisses there, watching my face carefully for my reaction.

I look away, trying to distract myself from the fluttering in my stomach. He trails a line of kisses up my forearm, and I scramble for something to say before my brain gets scattered beyond help. “For the record, you mean the world to me and I would defend you in battle too, if the need were to arise.”

His lips pause against my skin. I turn my head back to him to see that he’s, much to my annoyance, trying to fight a smile. Unable to school his smirk, he raises his head, still holding my hand in his. “I thank you, dearest, but I hardly believe that will be necessary. I’ve been battling for decades, I can handle a few stray orc.”

I step back out of his embrace, crossing my arms and regarding him with raised eyebrows.

He realizes his mistake.

“Oh—um, I meant, I—”

I shake my head. “No, you know what? Not ‘should the need arise’, I’ll just do it anyway! Next fight, you better watch out buddy, I’m throwing myself in front of anything that comes at you!”

His eyes blow open and his voice takes on a strangled quality. “Y/n, please don’t, that’s just unnecessary—”

“Nope!” I stomp away from him, picking up branches at random. “You brought this upon yourself. Get ready to be defended!”

Before walking back to camp, I turn to give him a sickeningly sweet smile. “I love you.”

Aragorn dramatically drops his head into his hands. “I shall die from stress.”

Our companions, who obviously heard our argument, roar with laughter.

A/n Thank you for reading! If you have a moment, I’d love it if you could check out my masterlist! Thank you :)

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

//

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

[forever-rogue]

IMAGINE Javi saying one of his many fuck mes and you (a shy secretary that tries to stay out of everyone’s way and blushes anytime Javi or Steve talks to you and Javi has thought you cute but usually forgets about you until today) hear him and say gladly under your breath. He overhears and flirts with you the rest of the day till he takes you at work

I got…a little carried away. Oops? Enjoy 😏 (PS -18+ only!)

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sighed lightly as you typed away, the clicking of the aging type writer keys starting to get to you. But it was better than nothing; besides the ticking of the clock, it was the only sound keeping you company. It was a slow day and for once there wasn’t much to occupy your time, so you had resorted to doing the menial paperwork you’d been putting off. You swore it made the time go by slower. Positive it must have been nearing five, or it surely should have been anyway, you allowed yourself to glance up.

A long groan immediately escaped your lips as you saw that it had been only about fifteen minutes since the last time you checked the clock. Impossible, you sighed internally, something must be wrong with it. Checking the fine gold watch on your wrist, you let out an even louder groan when you realized that it displayed the same time as the wall clock. This place had to be cursed or something.

Maybe you could sneak out early today and go for a walk…or something. It was a beautiful, sunny, perfectly warm day, and it felt like a shame to remain indoors doing practically nothing. But you knew that you’d never be allowed to leave early in case an important call came through. As if. The phone hadn’t rang a single time today.

But just before you could turn back to your paperwork, the sound of annoyed voices and quickly shuffling feet met your ears. You perked up at the sound, excited at the possibility of seeing some people today. Yeah, it had been a really boring day, and you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of many people. You stopped typing and trying to discern the voices as they neared.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Murphy,” ah yes, the unmistakable, annoyed tones of one Javier Pena, “she’s out of her damn mind.”

“We have to do this her way for once, Javi,” Steve’s exasperated response made you want to giggle, “we’ve got at least try and stay on her good side.”

“Fuck,” Javier seemed beyond annoyed as they rounded the corner and came into your view. You gave them both a small smile as they turned to walk into their shared office space. They’d been out doing field work for most of the day, and you were glad to have them back. They provided some form of amusement anyway, and listening to them bicker like children was fun at times, especially when they asked to settle things for them and pick a side.

“Hey,” they both turned to give you a wave as you repeated the gesture before dropping your head as a blush crept into your cheeks. There was always something about the way Javier’s dark eyes raked over you that made you feel like a giddy school girl.

Steve struggled with opening the door and Javier was clearly impatient as he watched his partner. He ran a hand over his tired face before letting out loud, “fuck me!”

You were biting on your bottom lip so hard to keep from giggling out loud, sure you would draw blood at any second. Instead you intently stared at the keys, but before you could knew what was happening or you could manage to stop yourself, you whispered, “gladly. Any day.”

Freezing in horror as you realized what you had done, your eyes widened as you glanced up to see if either of them had overheard you. It had meant to be a completely internal monologue with yourself, but somehow…fate, or whatever you wanted to call it, had a different idea. If Steve or Javi had overheard you, they didn’t indicate that anything had happened. Instead, Steve had finally managed to open the door and they went inside. Letting out a sigh of relief, you were sure that you were in the clear. It couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, probably inaudible to anyone but yourself.

But it wasn’t. Oh no. Javier was astute as ever, and he had impeccable hearing. He heard you loud and clear, a little smirk working its way onto his face at your words. But he played it off, knowing that it hadn’t been intentional. No; you were much too sweet and demure to have ever said something like publicly. But now he knew that you reciprocated his feelings. Who would have thought?

»»————-　♡　————-««

As the dull morning turned into the afternoon, you thought you were going delirious from the monotony. But a figure soon cast a shadow over your work, and you looked up slowly, hoping it wouldn’t be the ambassador or anything. To your surprise and internal delight, it had turned out to be Javier. You gave him a small smile as you leaned back in your chair, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do you want to go and get a coffee?” he asked as he perched himself on the edge of your desk, waiting you closely. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long…but it was hard. Especially when he was wearing his tightest jeans and that damned pink button up.

“A coffee?” you repeated as he nodded. You knew what he meant, but decided to play dumb, feeling an odd rush of courage flood through your veins, “I’m perfectly fine to go and walk into the kitchen and get myself some of this gourmet bean water.”

“You know what I mean,” he smirked as he gave your long cold coffee from this morning a dismal once over, “you really gonna finish that?”

“As if,” you joked, pushing it a little further away from you, “what? Is Murphy too busy to be your date?”

“I don’t know,” he asked, taking a look back into his office briefly, “didn’t ask.”

“Oh?”

“That’s because I’m asking you,” he raised an eyebrow at you and you swore you could easily melt in your seat. Why did he have to have this type of effect on you, “don’t really care about him right now. So, what do you say?”

“Right now?”

“Of course,” he laughed, “I don’t get the impression that you’re terribly immersed in your work right now. We can’t get out for a little bit…go for a walk. A shame to waste to a beautiful day inside, no?”

“I-”

“You’re not going to miss anything. I guarantee it.”

“But-”

“It’s just a coffee, hermosa, it’s not a lifetime commitment.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” he posed as you let out an exasperated sigh. He wouldn’t let this go, of course he wouldn’t. He gave you such a sweet look, that you just knew he knew that you wouldn’t say no. But…this was Javier. Should you really trust him? You did, fully…but should you?

“Okay,” you agreed, trying to fight off the smile that was threatening to break your face. Javier slid of your desk and beckoned for you to follow, “wait? Right now?”

“No time like the present,” he insisted as you stood up and followed him, shaking your head in amusement. You reached for your purse but he shook his head, “don’t bother.”

“Why? It’s not like this is a date.”

“It can be whatever you want,” always so cryptic with his responses, and aloof. You weren’t sure how to respond, not wanting to make more of this than it was. But then again…what did you want it to be? Before overthinking it, you tucked your purse back inside your drawer and stepped around to follow him, “new dress?”

“I..yeah…how did you…?”

“I like it,” he gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you weren’t sure if you were glad you wore the new dress or loathing yourself. It had been a warm morning, and the office didn’t exactly have the best cooling system, so you had worn it mostly to not become a sweat soaked mess, but this…wasn’t so bad either. You had wondered at first if it was even work appropriate, thinking it might have shown a little too much cleavage. Maybe it was just right after all, “the color suits you.”

“Thanks Javi,” you started to head out, hoping he didn’t see the flush of your cheeks as you bowed your head. He noticed. He most definitely noticed. But what neither of you noticed was Steve from inside the office, still stuck on a call and waving wildly at you guys as you just walked away. Javier hadn’t mentioned a word to him. Oops. Steve closed his eyes and sighed as he sat back down. Typical Javi.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Coffee and a walk with Javier ended up being…pleasant, fun even. He was ever the gentleman, paying for your coffee (and dessert) making you laugh the entire time. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had smiled so much; he couldn’t either. He ended up suggesting a walk in one of his favorite spots in the city, a hidden little gem that you’d never seen before. It was a beautiful escape from the hustle of the city, a lush green little escape.

He ended up doing most of the talking, which you didn’t mind one bit. You could have listened to him for hours with that warm, honeyed voice. It just…hit different. A few times his hand had brushed against yours and while it momentarily crossed your mind that you should take a step to the side to give him space, you didn’t do that. You kind of…liked the feeling of his rough hand against yours. He didn’t mind either; you knew all the brushes couldn’t have been accidental.

By the time you’d gotten back to the office, you were sad to end your little outing. To go back to the monotony of work after such a lovely time was surely a sin. But unfortunately, soon enough, you were back at your desk, eyes feeling like they were glazing over from boredom. When Javi had stepped back into his and Steve’s office, you immediately heard Steve start to give Javi the third degree. You couldn’t hold back the small bits of laughter that bubbled up at the two men. They were worse than children sometimes. Javier caught your eye and made a dramatic face as just shrugged your shoulders.

»»————-　♡　————-««

And so your week carried on, just as dull and dry as Monday had been. Surely it had to be the slowest and most painful week of your entire career in Colombia. It appeared that everyone, even the criminals on your radar had taken a siesta as soon as the first bits of spring weather hit.

The only reprieve from the boredom came in the form of…Javi. Not that Javi hadn’t been friendly with you before - on the contrary. He had always been kind to you, treating with respect and as a friend, not just some secretary. But this week things seemed different, even more friendly than normal. It wasn’t an unwelcome change by any means, but it caught you completely off guard.

You had a fresh cup of coffee, the real stuff not the weak instant stuff from the kitchen, and a pastry waiting for you every morning. No note was attached, but one wasn’t required. You knew it immediately it was from Javi; he always managed to catch your eye and gave you a wink whenever you got in.

It was almost like he made it a point to find a reason to step out of his office whenever he had a chance, always coming by your desk to make some comment to you. You knew he didn’t have to step out to go to the bathroom that often, that he didn’t need anything from the kitchen every hour, but you didn’t question it. It was nice to have someone to shoot the breeze with, instead of falling asleep.

Friday still rolled around slowly, and by the time noon had approached you were allowing yourself to feel slightly excited. Soon enough you’d be able to escape the office and go home and drink that bottle of wine you’d been saving all week. It wasn’t particularly exciting, but it was better than sitting around and being bored to tears.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Javier pulled you out of your little daydream and back in reality as he leaned over your desks, his face mere inches from yours. You tried not to completely lose at his close proximity, but it was hard to stare at his handsome face, or how good he smelled.

“Nothing,” you admitted sheepishly and he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to go on, “just thinking about how excited I am to get out of here and have the weekend off.”

“Oh? Exciting plans?” he asked and you almost burst into laughter.

“If by exciting plans you mean sitting on my couch and watching movies and drinking wine, then yes,” you answered with a shrug as he seemed to relax a little bit, a bit of tension leaving his face, “what about you? Any…exciting rendez-vous?”

“No,” he grimaced a little bit, and you wondered what was going on in his head, “but I was…do you want to go out tonight?”

“What?” your jaw dropped at his words. Surely you had heard him wrong. Surely he meant to ask someone other than you.

“Do you,” he pointed directly at you, “want to go out with me?”

“Ugh,” you started to panic a little bit as you realized what he was asking, “like…”

“A date,” he finished for you, a bit of amusement coloring his features, “I’ll break it down even further, hermosa, I, Javier, am asking you, Y/N, if you would like to go out to dinner tonight, as a date and not just friends.”

You were positive you were blushing like mad as you hid your face behind your hands. You didn’t know what you prompted this, or all the attention he had been showering you with this week, but it had warmed your soul. At first you thought it might be some sort of joke, or something, but you knew Javi would never do that. He was a better man than that. Javi let out a warm laugh at your sudden shyness, reaching for your hands and pulling them away from your face, giving you a curious glance as he anticipated your response. You bit your lip but nodded before quietly voicing your agreement, “yes…that sounds lovely.”

“Great,” he grinned at you, gently drumming his fingers along your desk, “it’s a date then. We can go when we’re off.”

“Aren’t you off later than I am?”

“I’m off whenever I want to be,” he was getting cheeky as he shot you a wink, “so I’ll be off whenever you are.”

“Whatever you say, Agent Peña,” you teased, “I’ll find you when I’m off.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was quickly interrupted by Steve shouting for him…again. It wasn’t lost on him at all how much Javier seemed to frequent your desk lately, making many more stops than possibly necessary. Normally he wouldn’t say anything, but for the first time all week, they actually had something to do.

“I’ll see you soon, hermosa,” it was more of a promise than a statement and he walked back in, already shaking his head at Steve. You let out a small sound of delight, only to yourself, as you turned your attention back to work. How were you possible going to focus on doing anything else when you actually had something to look forward to?

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time you were finished for the day, you gathered your things and looked for Javi. He was still in his office, on a call, an annoyed expression etched on his features. Steve on his way out, to which Javier only responded with him flipping him the bird. He gave you a wave on the way out and stood in the door way of their office, leaning against the door.

“Javi,” you called his name softly and he looked up at you, giving you a sorry look as he pointed at the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. You nodded in understanding and strolled over to him, sitting down on the edge of his desk, just as he’d done to you all week. His eyes widened in surprise, but a different kind of look soon worked its way onto his features.

You were wearing a dress again, similar to the one from earlier in the week; this one was purposely chosen, cherry picked to catch his eye. Which it had, causing him to almost break his neck as he did a double take when you arrived in the morning.

Swinging your legs back and forth, you waited for him to finish, unsure of how much longer he would take. But Javi had other plans, naturally. He put a hand your calf, causing you to falter your motions in surprise for a moment, before slowly bringing his hand up to your thigh, just under the soft fabric of your dress. At first his brashness surprised you, but then, what surprised you even more, was the fact that you didn’t want him to stop. Instead you placed your hand on top of his and slowly slid it further up your leg, bringing it closer and closer to your heat.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched, trying to make sure you knew what you were starting. You eyes never left his as you settled his hand at the apex of your thighs. You had no clue what suddenly possessed to be so bold. Here you were, in the open were anyone could walk in, shamelessly wanting Javi to touch you.

Javi slowly slipped your panties to the side, dragging a long finger through your folders, a wicked look crossing his features when he realized how wet you were already. For him. You rocked your hips slightly against his fingers, silently encouraging him to do more, to touch you as much as he wanted.

“I’ve ugh…I’ve got to go…something just came up,” he said suddenly as he practically slammed the phone back down on the receiver. You let out a soft sound as he added another finger and started touching your sensitive bundle of nerves, “you’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you joked as you gave him your best, innocent doe eyes. He made a small sound, akin to a growl as he pulled removed his fingers from you. You huffed lightly at the loss, a small sound escaping your lips. Quickly he placed his large hands on your hips, wasting no time in pulling you into his lap. You grinned up at him with a quickly little smile, “hello there.”

“You’re a little minx, aren’t you?” he asked as you put your hands on the sides of his face, tracing gently over his features, just like all the times you had imagined doing so in your wildest dreams. He watched you with curiosity, amazed by the combination of both your boldness and gentleness. He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, “but also a gentle thing. What a combination.”

“Just like you,” you responded, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes to savor the moment. He rested a hand on your back, tracing aimless shapes and patterns onto your skin. You grinned slightly, “Javi.”

“I really want to go to dinner,” he said quietly, his lips brushing against yours, the tickle of his mustache making you grin, “but ugh…”

You shifted slightly in his lap, and knew exactly what he was referring as his hardness became evident. Unable to control yourself at all, you pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to his lips, “dinner can wait. How about dessert first?”

“Right here?” he almost choked on the words as you nodded. It was bold, even for him. But somehow the thrill of it all, the idea of being caught was enough to drive him wild. Slowly standing up, earning a low groan from him, you walked over to the door and closed it, locking it before closing the blinds.

“Don’t you want some dessert, Javi?”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Diary found in K---D--- : Part 2

So, here's the next little part of this :D

Imagine by @lathalea is indented!

Enjoy <3

Taglist: @shrimpsthings, @mulasawala (so you see where I'm going with this lol)

(Yes, there will be MORE artwork coming, stay posted...)

Fandom: Hobbit

Characters: Ori x OC

Rating & Warning: Fluff and silliness

His name was Ori and he was a scribe in Erebor. It turned out he visited the forest often to sketch the animals and plants. You spent the rest of the day together. In the evening, you exchanged campfire stories, sharing a meal. At one point, he shyly asked about where you came from. Blushing, he admitted, almost whispering, he never saw a person with such beautiful hair before.

You told him that you came from another world, from a region called East Asia, where many people looked similarly to you. He was very curious about your homeland, your culture and your world. You spent hours telling him everything about it and he listened to you in awe.

“Ori.” He replied, his lips quirking a tiny bit as if he was not used to speaking his own name. “I’m a scribe. In Erebor. The Mountain.” He pointed to a tree beyond the clearing.

Thankfully, I was familiar with the Lonely Mountain and did not think that he didn’t know the difference between a living organism and a pile of minerals.

“I have never seen you, neither here nor in that Mountain.” I replied, for I went into the halls sometimes to translate for travellers, but for the most part, I let the king be his grumpy, glorious self.

“I come here often, to sketch, but I seem to have lost my way.” He admitted with a tiny frown. Ah, a real dwarf. They only knew up and down seemingly and if there was no way into a hill, they’d stubbornly trek up until they tumbled off the other side again.

As if to prove to me that he was not lying – dear reader, he had a face that was utterly devoid of malice or dissimulation – he showed me rather good sketches of the fauna and flora of the dense forest surrounding us. “That is really good, Ori, the scribe, from under the Mountain.” I commented which made him blush with a fierce and, apparently, unexpected pleasure.

In an expression of indescribable cuteness, he literally wiped his face with his sleeve as if he could clean away the rosy hue like a stubborn ink stain from under his skin.

“What are you here for?” He then asked, pushing out his chest heroically. As a reminder, he was the one who had lost his way, but apparently, he wanted to defend either the forest from me or the other way around.

“I am here to think…in silence.” I replied; he retreated a few steps. “Oh? I’ll leave you to it then, I guess. It was great to make your acquaintance…”

I gave him my name, after all, he had given me his, and he chewed on it for a few moments before his face split into a smile that was like the sunlight breaking through the cloudy afternoon sky: tentative, warm, and strikingly beautiful.

“Stay. I like your face.” I heard myself saying. Maybe, it was my teasing, mischievous streak acting up, but I had liked his embarrassment so much that I couldn’t help wanting to coax more of these blushes out of him.

“My…face?” In that weird dance he had been engaged in for the last few minutes, Ori stepped closer again, shuffling his feet in the heavy boots dwarrows insisted on wearing.

No, your ass, I thought, but bit my tongue; Ori the dwarf looked like someone who would die on the spot if I said anything even remotely inappropriate…as I was wont to do when nervous.

My sarcastic thought spurred my own interest though and I examined him a little closer: he was indeed swaddled like a babe, beads of sweat pearling down his temples on account of the steep climb and the stubborn blush powdering his nose and cheeks with pink blotches.

“Sit down, you’ll get a heat stroke.” I invited him and pointed to a patch of moss beside me while rummaging in my pack for the flask of ale I had brought.

“Thank you ever so much.” He plopped down in a cascade of earthen-coloured wool and awkward limbs. He did smell warm, I noticed, a blend of cinnamon and comfort.

Also, he had one of those faces that only became better when seen up-close, I admit freely; there were golden stars dancing in the depth of his dark eyes and he had the most adorable freckles as if some outlandish fairy had sprinkled gold dust over that heart-wrenchingly handsome face.

“Are you thirsty, Mistress?” He asked, nodding at the flask in my hand.

Handing it to him rather abruptly, I realised that I had spent the last moments intently staring at his face as if I had never seen a male dwarf before in my life.

“I have work to do.” I snapped, feeling immediately guilty for taking my own embarrassment out on him, but he merely nodded and pulled his sketching supplies into his lap.

Strangely enough, Ori did not disturb me. If anything, the silence felt fuller, richer, deeper with him by my side. As I translated a letter, as a spinster I had to support my family and my insufferable sisters as best as I could, I felt like the chirping of the birds and the vibrancy of the colours around me were even more enjoyable now that I shared them with someone else.

…

The sun crept along its never-changing arc slowly and yet, much too fast.

As I looked up, I wished I was a better painter myself, for this dwarrow was made for sunsets.

The way the last golden hurrah of a perfect day exploded in a halo of warmth around his figure, the way all the greys and the blues seemed to bleed out of the world to leave nothing but warm tones behind, and the way his smile was the perfect expression of this mellow, unhurried mood…it struck me deeper and more violently than a thunderstorm in all its booming rage would have.

“Will you join me for dinner, Ori?” I asked gently, “I shall escort you back down.”

“It would be my honour.” He nodded, tearing out a page of his notebook and handing it over.

“It was an invitation; I do not demand payment.” I said seriously, for the sketch of the doe was so good, it might have been worth actual money. “Oh…” His nose crinkled at little at that.

“I wanted you to…have something beautiful. I have seen you work very hard.”

Of course, he was a scribe as well, he would consider the scribbling work, I thought and gave him a thankful smile. “You’re beauty enough for one day.” I shrugged.

He gasped, bringing his notebook up to his face as if to shield himself from my words.

“You’re having me on, aren’t you? Dori has warned me that girls do that sometimes.” He sounded utterly dejected. “I am not having you on. Has nobody ever told you that you’re handsome?” It was my turn to be wide-eyed with shock.

“And who is Dori?” I followed-up when he didn’t really reply to my question even though I thought I had seen his braids move like strings of pearls in a draft. The minutest of shakes of the head, a quiet admission of inadequacy that sunk ugly, ragged claws into my soft heart.

“He’s my brother. I have two of them. Dori…and Nori. They’re…” – “Older than you.” I completed. “Protective.” He supplied.

He was still holding his drawing out to me, and, after a moment, I took it gingerly and put it between the pages of my own writing supplies. I would hang it in my room and look at it daily.

Nowadays, there were but very few gifts for me; all the money went to my two younger sisters who were still nubile and would, if Mahal willed it so, be able to make a good match.

Busying my hands with making a fire, I asked him to tell me about his brothers.

“Oh, Nori is…agile. He’s…funny and brave and resourceful.” Ori started, his voice warm with affection and admiration. He sounded like a proper rogue to me, and as it turned out, he was, but he also deserved every single ounce of the deep-felt care Ori held for him.

“Dori is…fussy. He’s polite, he’s very caring, and he’s exceedingly proper.” Ori went on as I waved a hand for him not to stop. I enjoyed hearing about the life of other families than my own.

“So, is he the one who raised you to be this…warmly clad and gentle?” I asked, turning to place the foodstuffs I had brought up and stored in the cool lake water on spits to roast over the fire.

“Warm? Oh yes…I was a sickly pebble and he’s been worried ever since. I hope I have behaved in a way that would not make him disappointed in me.” Again, he worried his lip.

“Let’s see, you’ve startled a bird and an unsuspecting dwarrowdam.” I listed with a wicked gleam in my eyes; his face fell, and he looked properly guilty.

“Then, you’ve kept me company, and the best company I’ve ever had, it has been, on my grandmother’s grave, I swear.” I went on and that treacherous blush was back with a vengeance.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He then said in a low voice. “Great beauty is always startling.”

“I am hardly Thorin Oakenshield.” He laughed. Readers, you cannot imagine that sound just by reading my words. If flowers blossoming had melody, if the sun setting on the eternal sea had a song, if autumn leaves dancing on a gale had a tune, they would have sounded like nails on scree, like cats having their tails trampled, and like kettles going unheeded compared to Ori’s laughter.

“There’s beauty in the doe as much as in the wolf.” I replied gently.

“May I…can I ask where you’re from? I don’t seek to be rude, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you; your hair looks like those fabrics the Elves weave. It…seems so soft, so liquid, so smooth.” He blushed a darker shade yet.

This might well have been the first time that someone had asked me about my origins without making it sound like an accusation; there was honest fascination in his demeanour.

“My family and I have come from the Far East. I have travelled a lot, Ori, I have seen landscapes entirely made up of rock and sand, I have walked forests so stiflingly hot and moist it felt like being underwater, and now, I am here in the land of tall trees and taller mountains.”

I said, surprised by my own frankness.

“That sounds amazing.” He took the food I offered readily enough, and I told him about the people I’ve left behind to be stranded at the other end of the world.

“This is good, is that a recipe of your homeland?” He asked, looking down on the piece of meat I had seasoned with herbs I had grown myself in our small backyard.

“It actually is. I’m glad you like it. I had not planned to have company, otherwise I’d have brought something more palatable to the local tongue.” I apologised quickly.

“No, I like it. You should definitely trade some recipes with Dori…and Bombur…oh, and if any of your delicious herbs are medicinal, Óin.” He laughed again when he saw my dumbfounded expression.

“I make a good honeycake, if I can interest you in that? Maybe…” He fell back into silence.

…

A look at the sky told me that it was too late to go down in the inky darkness.

“We’ll have to stay here for the night.” I mumbled, slightly uncomfortable at the idea of spending the night with a dwarrow who had not lost a single word about a wife.

“Are you married, Mistress? Will that endanger your wedlock?” He asked shyly.

“No, I am not and I have no name to lose…It’s a long story.” I didn’t feel like blurting out my disgrace, lest it give him strange ideas after all, especially as he would easily have been able to overpower me if he so chose.

“Neither am I. I don’t know about my name…Doesn’t look like I’m going to be married either. There’s not enough dwarrowdams as it is, and I think the royal line has a prerogative there.” There was no resentment in his tone; he seemed to accept this as a fact.

How could someone that sweet not be married, I wondered. He was courteous, he was cute, and he would have made the fortune and happiness of someone.

“Well, in that case, I think we can risk our reputation rather than our necks.” I grinned, rolling out a blanket I kept tied to my pack for emergencies and stretched out next to the fire on the moss.

“Erm, yes…Good night…” He mumbled, fidgeting around with his different layers of clothing. Apparently, he was deciding which one he needed least on his body to use it as a bedroll or blanket.

I eyed the proceedings with interest and a good deal of amusement.

“I can offer you my cloak to lie upon…the ground will grow very cold and wet soon.” He said in a low voice, not sure if I had already fallen asleep or not.

“Alright, I can offer you a spot under the blanket then?” I extended my own graciousness.

“With you?” No, with the red bird, I thought, rolling my eyes internally.

“Yes, Ori the scribe, with me. I will not eat you, as you have witnessed, I have had dinner.” Not that he did not look good enough to devour, standing there with his cloak in his hands and his face all crunched up in embarrassment.

“Hmmm…I guess.” He muttered doubtfully, spreading out the cloak and sitting down on it carefully. Impatiently, I scooted over and spread my lousy blanket over the both of us with a flourish.

“Sleep!” I commanded as I turned around only to find him staring wide-eyed at the spot where the back of my head had been only a second ago. Now that he was presented with my face, only inches away from his, his eyes grew even rounder and bigger in wordless distress.

“Friend…Have you never lain with a woman? And I literally mean, lying next to one?” I laughed for there had been friends and cousins aplenty in my own life and the feeling of having another body so close to mine was not a new experience for me.

“Well, I fell down on the battlefield once, next to a foe…I’m pretty sure that was a Lady-Orc. She was dead. There was a…” He gestured, indicating a spear or a lance sticking out of his chest and brushing against my own with the back of his hand. Dear reader, he flinched back as if I was a tiny Durin’s bane wreathed in flames.

“A Lady-Orc, indeed…” I mused; no doubt, he could hear the smile I hid in my voice for his face crunched up in embarrassment.

“I am sorry.” He sighed, rolling his eyes, and thinking – there was not a shadow of a doubt about that much – of his brothers who would have mocked him mercilessly for his stammering.

“There’s no need to be sorry” I tried to reassure him, but I admit now that there were things that I did not tell him right away then. We had only just met, and he was blessedly unaware of my shameful past.

How could I have made him understand – without hurting his feelings – how much I enjoyed that air of purity about him that I had squandered myself on an undeserving fiend? As a daughter amongst others, I had been used to dwarrows coming to court or to seduce, their eyes ablaze with greed and their hands wandering.

He would not have comprehended how much the absence of that voracious hunger that had plagued my youth and had ended up destroying my promising future meant to me.

“Sleep.” I repeated, unable to put into words how miraculous and precious the things he seemed to be most ashamed of were to me.

“Good night, Mistress.” He breathed with a soft smile that was nowhere near the wolfish baring of fangs I was used to and so, it was easy to return it.

You who may or may not have stumbled upon this ludicrous account of the most important story in an otherwise unimportant life, you shall hear another confession I did not make at the time.

I was fiercely aware that – had I but leant forward a little – I might have pressed my lips upon his; I was young still at that time and, despite what had happened, parts of me, that should have withered and died in the aftermath of my botched engagement, were much alive.

He smelled like our dinner and warmth, and the gentle reticence of the curve of his smile was more inviting than any flashing grin I had ever seen before.

Yes, in that very moment, on this very first evening, I had already been conscious of the shrewd attraction this self-effacing dwarrow held for me…and it scared me half to death.

…

Part 3

[kiatheinsomniac]

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

Hey, I saw your post about the ships. I'm saving up some money for a large commission but this small one I would like to 'participate in' :)  Name: Alexandra, but my best friend calls me Sasha (Russian short version)  Gender: sex is female but tbh, I always thought of myself as an individual and not strictly male or female. I don't know what this is called :/  Sexuality: I once thought I'm bi, but I never enjoyed sex with my ex. I find men and women attractive equally but don't feel any specific sexual attraction, even though I do have some fantasies about a specific fictional character. So I think the best that would describe me would be demi bi sexual, or some sort of it. I apologise for the long elaboration  Appearance: neither skinny nor heavy. I'd say a good middle (I used to be obese and have stretch marks in hips and thighs, but I also was anorexic, now I'm happy to be in between with slight curves and a few muscles that slowly show themselves as I'm working out quite a bit), brown hair till past shoulders, brown eyes, high cheekbones. I'm around 176 cm tall  Personality: I can be impatient, but when it comes to others or animals I'm very patient. I like the nature and animals, sort of pagan believe, I like reading and drawing but also action as I used to race in horses (barrel race but also carriage races), I'm seeking adventure and have done a lot of crazy stuff, like skydive, hitch hiking and other stunts (when I was younger though). I still like a good adrenaline rush but in a controlled way. I like horse riding and motorcycling (again controlled in a good manner). Both give me a feeling of freedom. I guess I could be described as sporty. I'm empathic but also stubborn.  Coming from a family where domestic violence was used to break me and make me follow what I was expected to do and how to behave. I need time to warm up to people. While I'm friendly to strangers, it takes a really long time until I warm up and even longer to let a person in and trust that person. But once a person is' in my inner circle', I'm loyal and protective.  I love walking barefoot (something that pissed my parents off and I received a few bruises for that, still liking it though). I love a good banter between friends, and can be sassy (when I feel comfortable around the person). I also tease and appreciate the small things in life, I don't need big presents or anything but am quite happy when I can be with the people I hold dear and enjoy the time with them, if it's a calm evening or some adventure/action.  Oh, and I don't wear dresses! I feel uncomfortable in them! No high heels either. Not very practical.  Please know that you can take your time and I'm in no rush. Like I said, I can be impatient (especially when it comes to myself, as I'm my worst critic and have high expectations of myself) I'm very patient when it comes to others. So I don't mind if you work on others' ships and requests first. I hope this is enough and not too much. Let's see who you ship me with from the Assassin's creed series :) – @havatnah

I ship you with Kassandra! 

Kassandra is really drawn to how you don’t really fit the ‘norm’. She’s no different to you and she is also drawn to adventure and living her life as she pleases without feeling the need to conform to societal standards so much. She really enjoys that you’re someone she can share adventures with and so she always invites you along to wherever she goes. She especially likes horse riding with you and the two of you often end up racing each other for the thrill on your way home – it’s something she always loves doing with you! Like you, Kassandra is very active and so she enjoys spending time with you when the two of you work out together, she pretty much considers it a date and she’ll be very supportive of you and flirty the whole time (see: likes to flex to try and impress you, she wants to show off and be your big, strong girlfriend). 

Kassandra is very understanding of your past as she has a troubling story about her childhood too. She’s friendly but she can be slow to trust too and so the beginning of your relationship starts as friendship. The two of you take things slowly and learn to trust each other as friends before you open up more and become lovers and Kassandra really wouldn’t have it any other way because it means she gets to fall in love with you twice. She admires your loyalty and protectiveness as they are core traits of her own and traits that she attributes to any good person. She also doesn’t mind that you’re not big on dresses or heels as she isn’t either so it just makes it more likely that the two of you can share clothes and she just loves seeing you wear her stuff and especially loves when you return it and it smells of you. 

♡ Kass loves going on little adventures with you! Whether it’s just a casual little outing such as a hike or perhaps something more daring and adrenaline-inducing, she wants to bring you along in order to share the thrill with the one she loves the most! Considering the long ziplines in the game, I can 100% see her taking you ziplining! The two of you strapped in and just going over deep valleys all for the thrill and the rush of doing so! She’ll make a whole day out about it too – a hike, maybe a packed lunch you made together the evening before, having a little dance between yourselves to some music in the kitchen. She loves days out with you. 

♡ She likes going to your gym or bringing you along to hers too (whichever one offers you the best memberships). She likes working out with you, supporting you and making teams with you, will be checking you out half the time too, she just loves seeing what you can do! She’ll try to show off a bit with weight because she likes knowing that you find her fit and attractive, she wants to be at her best for you. 

♡ Like you, Kassandra is also outwardly friendly to those she meets but she’s also slow to trust after her upbringing of her family being torn apart and having to find her own way right afterwards. She understands what it's like to feel betrayed by the ones who you were supposed to be able to depend on and she feels the reluctance to trust that follows such a thing. This causes your relationship to start off as the two of you just being friends; you’re getting to know one another and trust each other at the slow pace you both need. Each one of you is there for the other when it’s needed and eventually the two of you grow comfortable enough with one another from your love to develop into something more than that of just friends.

♡ Kass loves sharing her clothes with you! She doesn’t really wear super feminine clothes like dresses or hells either – even when she’s going out somewhere fancy, she feels much more comfortable in a suit than a dress. The result of this is that the two of you have a good chance of adapting certain aspects of each other’s styles and sharing clothes! Kass will practically throw her hoodies at you because she loves that when she gets them back, they smell like you. 

♡ Kassandra isn’t really one for flowery words so she shows her love with lots of gestures: big and small. One thing she does is that she makes sure to keep the floors of the house clean for you to walk around barefoot without getting your feet dirty. She knows it’s something you like and after finding out that you were mistreated for it, she goes out of her way to make sure that you can feel comfortable with it around her. 

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

[out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me]

Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but  I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

MN

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable. 

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on.  The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears  “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame? 

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway.  One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

MN

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's  to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough. 

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t  actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago. 

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

[bamf-jaskier]

Here and Queer: The Witcher

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Here and Queer, Canon Queerness in The Witcher books. 

I already started this series by talking about Ciri here. Her relationship required a fair amount of analysis because it began nonconsensually but continued for months after the fact and spanned three books so there was quite a bit to cover. 

However, while she is the main character there are other characters who are also queer in the books including Triss Merigold, Philippa Eilhart and Geralt himself!

Let’s jump right in by talking about our first queer character: Triss. 

She is explicitly confirmed as Queer in Blood of Elves during this internal monologue: 

As far as her erotic life was concerned, Triss Merigold had the right to consider herself a typical enchantress. It had began with the sour taste of forbidden fruit, made all the more exciting by the strict rules of the academy and the prohibitions of the mistress under whom she practised. Then came her independence, freedom and a crazy promiscuity which ended, as it usually does, in bitterness, disillusionment and resignation. 

Then followed a long period of loneliness and the discovery that if she wanted to release her tension and stress then someone who wanted to consider himself her lord and master – as soon as he had turned on his back and wiped the sweat from his brow – was entirely superfluous. 

There were far less troublesome ways of calming her nerves – ones with the additional advantages of not staining her towels with blood, not passing wind under the quilt and not demanding breakfast. That was followed by a short-lived and entertaining fascination with the same sex, which ended in the conclusion that soiling towels, passing wind and greediness were by no means exclusively male attributes.

Finally, like all but a few magicians, Triss moved to affairs with other wizards, which proved sporadic and frustrating in their cold, technical and almost ritual course.

Sounds here like Triss enjoyed her relationships with women but the forced heteronormativity of society caught up with her. This actually hits quite a bit for me as Triss states that her relationships with men seemed lacking after she had relationships with women. 

Of course, there is also this scene in The Tower of Swallows: 

The brilliant beam of light, broken by the diamond, flashed on the surface of the mirror. Yennefer stretched out both hands and began chanting a spell. The blindingly bright light reflected and concentrated into a fog. Soon, a picture began to emerge. The image of a room whose walls were covered with colorful tapestries.

A movement at the window. And a troubled voice. “Who? Who's there?”

“I'm here, Triss.”

“Yennefer! That you? Gods! How did… Where are you?”

“It does not matter where I am. Do not block the image, because the picture varies. And take away that candle, it’s blinding.”

“Right. Of course.”

Although it was late at night, Triss Merigold was wearing neither lingerie nor her work clothes. She wore a dress for going out. As usual, high-collared and closed.

“Can we talk freely?”

“Of course.”

“You're alone?”

“Yes.”

“You're lying.”

“Yennefer…”

“You are deceiving me, brat. I know your face; I know you too well. It’s the same look you had when you started sleeping with Geralt behind my back. Back then, you put on the same sheepish, innocent mask that I see on your face now. And it means the same thing now that it meant back then!”

Triss was red. Philippa Eilhart appeared in the window next to her, dressed in a dark blue men’s jerkin. “Bravo,” she said. “As usual, quick. As usual, perceptive. As usual, hard to grasp and understand. I am glad to see you in health, Yennefer. I am happy that your crazy teleportation from Montecalvo did not end in tragedy.”

Gonna be very honest here, as someone who has had to hide their girlfriend when a friend or parents walks into your room, that is exactly how I read this scene. Yennefer saying Triss has the look on her face of someone who just got laid? Philippa coming out of hiding and calling Yennefer perceptive? The fact that when Yennefer first called Triss didn’t let her see what was going on and then appeared fully dressed after blocking the image? I don’t know about anyone else, but I read this as Yennefer catching Triss and Philippa together romantically. 

However, even if you don’t buy this scene as explicitly showing a relationship between the two of them, Triss is still queer as well as Philippa. 

From Time of Contempt:

“So it is!’ said Marti Södergren, leaning over and wrinkling her nose, after which she picked up a goblet and looked at the traces of crimson lipstick on it. ‘Ah, Philippa Eilhart. I should have known. Who else would have dared to do something so brazen? That revolting snake. Did you know she spies for Vizimir of Redania?’

‘And is a nymphomaniac?’ risked the Witcher. Marti and Keira snorted in unison.

‘Is that what you were counting on, fawning over her and flirting with her?’ asked the seductress. ‘If so, you ought to know someone’s played a mean trick on you. Philippa lost her taste for men some time ago.”

Another Philippa scene from The Tower of Swallows:

Philippa Eilhart was in a short nightgown with thin straps, and her face and neck had traces of lipstick. Assire, with a great effort of will, contained an expression of displeasure. Never, ever, will I understand this. And I do not want to understand.

“Can we speak freely?”

Philippa’s hand made a sweeping gesture. And she surrounded herself with a magic sphere of discretion.”

Answering a telecomm with lipstick all over ur neck is such a queer power move and honestly Philippa might be manipulative but damn the energy she exudes. 

As well as Philippa and Triss, there is the infamous bath scene with Geralt and Borch from Sword of Destiny: 

“Let’s make merry!’ Three Jackdaws leant across the table and slapped Téa on the backside. ‘Let’s make merry, Witcher. Hey, landlord! Over here!’

The innkeeper scuttled briskly over, wiping his hands on his apron.

‘Could you lay your hands on a tub? The kind you launder clothes in, sturdy and large?’

‘How large, sir?’

‘For four people.’

‘For… four…’ the innkeeper opened his mouth.

‘For four,’ Three Jackdaws confirmed, drawing a full purse from his pocket. ‘I could.’ The innkeeper licked his lips.

‘Splendid,’ Borch laughed. ‘Have it carried upstairs to my room and filled with hot water. With all speed, comrade. And have beer brought there too. Three pitchers.’

The Zerrikanians giggled and winked at the same time.

‘Which one do you prefer?’ Three Jackdaws asked. ‘Eh? Geralt?’

The Witcher scratched the back of his head.

‘I know it’s difficult to choose,’ said Three Jackdaws, understandingly. ‘I occasionally have difficulty myself. Never mind, we’ll give it some thought in the tub. Hey, girls. Help me up the stairs!”

Now, there’s a lot of people who read this scene and say: hey now, Geralt didn’t actually sleep with Borch. They just slept with two women. Together. In a bath. Now, I don’t know about any of you, but when four people are naked in a bath together all having sex it’s not a situation where you can say no-homo bro and call it a day. 

Also, you know, there is this line later on in Sword of Destiny: 

“Véa, already mounted beside Téa, waved.

‘Véa,’ the Witcher said, ‘you were right.’

‘Hm?’

‘He is the most beautiful.”

Of course, this is in reference to Borch’s dragon form but considering the last person to call Borch beautiful was Véa who slept with him...well. Geralt is at the very least open for a variety of sexual situations. 

Finally, there is Sorel Degerlund in Season of Storms who says this about Ortolan, the elderly mage of the town: 

“As you’ve doubtless observed,” continued Degerlund, “I have exceptional looks and women have been known to call me an ephebe. I’m fond of women, indeed, but in principle I didn’t and don’t have anything against homosexuality. Under one condition: if it is to be, it must help me to advance my career.

My physical intimacy with Ortolan didn’t demand excessive sacrifices. The old man had long passed both the age limit for capability and desire. But I did my best for people to think otherwise and believe he’d utterly fallen for me.

Believe there was nothing he would refuse his gorgeous lover. Believe that I knew his codes, that I had access to his secret books and notes. That he was giving me artefacts and talismans he hadn’t previously revealed to anyone. And that he was teaching me forbidden spells. 

Including goetia. And if previously the great men and women of Rissberg had disdained me, now they suddenly began to esteem me. I had grown in their eyes. They believed I was doing what they themselves dreamed of. And that I was achieving success.”

So this is a very minor character who only appears in one adventure but he is queer. Well, to clarify he is queer for...career advancement? Honestly I have no idea if asaps is trying to make a statement here or if he was writing this and thought to himself: what if the mage was queer but only in order to advance his career? Sounds fun, let’s do it. 

So overall, there are queer characters in The Witcher, from Ciri to Triss to Geralt to Philippa to guy who is gay to advance his career in Season of Storms. There are likely other minor characters I might have missed, so feel free to add them!

I hope to see these characters as queer in the show and it’s really nice to have this type of representation in fantasy, especially a series such as The Witcher. And yes, there are a number of problematic tropes and issues this writing can stumble into but it is still nice to see a variety of sexualities, especially in the main characters such as Ciri and Geralt.  

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part four

Have you ever seen a fic update so fast? Four updates in two days?

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part five 

Part six

Part seven

Part eight 

“While I like the idea of them having a red, green, and gold colour scheme going on, don’t you think it would have too much of a christmas theme and take away from the magic of their wedding?” Marinette sat on the same couch as Felix did, across from Kagami and Adrien who, despite their careful appearances, looked frazzled. 

“But those are our favourite colours,” Adrien tried, but Felix held his hand up to stop his cousin.

“Your wedding is in late spring, if you think for a moment that christmas colours are appropriate for that time of year then you need to hand over your fathers fashion industry to me right now.” Felix sipped at his now cold cup of coffee. “If anything, we could do red and gold and have green accents if we used things like leaves and give it a more rustic feel.”

“But that wouldn’t go well with their general aesthetic. They need to look like a king and queen, not a cottagecore couple.” Marinette countered. “I think we could go with a green, gold, and cream theme. That way they both get one of their favourites while keeping with the posh style. Either way, no matter what gold has to be a part of it. That I will not budge on.”

“If we made Adrien’s tie green it would bring out his eyes more.” Felix hummed, looking over at his co-planner. “You have good tastes, Marinette.”

“Why thank you, Felix, your tastes aren’t so bad yourself.” She said back. 

The two planners had successfully gotten their way with the wedding with everything they had put forth. Marinette’s ideas were either on point with Felix’s or close to it so the planning was going a lot easier than either of them had expected. Both had spent enough time with the bride and groom to know their likes and dislikes and due to their fashion background they knew what they were doing. 

They were unstoppable, not that Kagami and Adrien even tried. They saw the fire that was lit behind their companions' eyes and knew better, and it wasn’t like they didn’t like anything their friends had said. In fact, the more the two spoke the more excited Kagami and Adrien felt about the upcoming event. 

“Why don’t we make the groomsmen wear gold ties, just so that Adriens tie doesn’t fade in with the rest of them.” Marinette rambled, showing Felix the designs she had tucked away in her portfolio that she refused to show Kagami. “If you wear green too your eyes will stand out and Adrien is supposed to be the one people are paying attention to.”

“Should the bridesmaids wear green then? If that dress design is anything to go by we don’t want Kagami to blend in with the other girls.” Felix hummed, sliding closer to Marinette without thinking about it. “Can’t have you stealing the show from the bride, you know.”

Marinette’s face grew warm at the compliment, even if it did match her unintentional flirting moments earlier. The added proximity didn’t help, but she could pull herself together. This was Felix, after all, and despite how nice he had been that evening she still needed to see more of him before passing a proper judgement on him. 

The two planners missed the looks between the future Mr. and Mrs Agreste. 

“Well, after the akuma attack today I feel exhausted. I think I shall turn in tonight, since the two of you have it covered.” Kagami said as she stood from her seat. 

“Did you want me to make you a coffee?” Adrien asked innocently enough, but was immediately shut down.

“No, if I have a coffee now I won’t sleep.” Kagami raised her brow at her fiance, wondering if he had caught her drift yet. “And you have business to take care of in the morning. Let’s leave the planning to these two, shall we?”

The blonde man abruptly stood up, realizing what she was getting at. “Oh, oh! Yeah! Of course! They don’t really need our input for any of this stuff anyways, and I’m definitely beat after that sentimonster. We should go to bed.”

The owners of the house bid their goodnights and quickly escaped from the room, leaving Marinette and Felix sitting there dumbfounded. 

“Have, have they always been that obvious in their plans?” Felix finally asked, breaking the silence that had stretched on after their friend's departure. 

Marinette shook her head, “I have only seen them like that once when they were trying to plan a surprise birthday party for me.”

“And how well did that go for them?”

“Adrien ordered the cake from my parents bakery over the phone, but didn’t realize that I was the one taking his order.” Marinette recalled the look of horror on Adrien’s face when he had come to pick the cake up the day prior, and had begged Marinette not to tell Kagami he blew it. “For someone so smart he can be really oblivious, you know.”

“I did live with him for two years, I am well aware of how he can be.” Felix snorted. He shifted positions so he was facing towards Marinette. “I think it actually turned me into a better person, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette mirrored his position on the couch. Adrien was an open book to her, she could ask him anything about himself and he’d answer her, and when she asked about his time in England he never said much about it. She couldn’t miss hearing about it from a second party, though. Especially when her friend was the cause of someone becoming a better person.

“Well, as I’m sure you are aware I was a terrible teenager.” Felix started.

“What? You? The man who deleted my love confession and mocked our friends?” Marinette jokingly pushed his shoulder. “I don’t believe it.”

Felix grinned, “I know, I know. I’m such a saint now. I wasn’t sure if you had even recognized me at first.”

“It was a bit difficult without those devil horns you used to wear.”

“Oh those? Those were natural. Grew them myself. Kind of miss them, actually.” 

The two laughed for a moment, enjoying their friendly banter that seemed to come so easily to them. 

“Okay,” Marinette giggled, “tell me how our sweet sunshine child managed to change the demon known as Felix.”

“Well, when he first moved in I was sent into a whirlwind of emotion.” Felix started, “I was still angry that Adrien had abandoned me when my father had died because his father wouldn’t let him call or text us, but I also knew how terrible it was to lose a father even if it was only to a lifetime imprisonment. I had so much baggage that I took it out on him. I think I made the first few weeks of his stay with us hell.”

The blonde man shifted, no longer wanting to look her in the eye as he confessed to his crimes. It didn’t take a trained psychoanalyst to see the regret he felt coming out and causing him to fidget. 

“It was when he transferred into my school and started to get bullied that I changed my tune.” Marinette was shocked. Adrien was so loveable and kind, how could anyone have bullied him? Then it donned on her. He was a terrorist's son. “People would shove notes in his locker with butterflies on it, or draw on his desk, and he’d just smile and say that they must have been doing it because of his fathers fashion symbol being a butterfly. Perhaps he wasn’t oblivious to it, but purposefully ignorant. No one would want to believe their father was the supervillian of Paris after all.”

“It was then that I decided to switch my targets from my cousin to those bullying him, and oh was I ever brutal. I had a few of them expelled for harassment, some I actually got physical with since they assumed I was Adrien. Either way, it was my school and I wasn’t going to let anyone insult my cousin. That was my job.” Felix’s brows pulled together. “It was the fights that got Adrien to step in. He reminded me that the emotions of people were complicated things, and that they were acting out more out of fear than actual hatred towards him. He told me what he actually needed wasn’t another bodyguard, but someone to lead his PR campaign.” 

Marinette remembered when Adrien’s image in the media had changed the first time, when he went from brilliant model to the heir to Hawkmoth's legacy. It had taken almost another full year of Adrien working harder than he ever had before to show the world that he wasn’t a monster, and it still took a live interview from Ladybug herself to convince the rest of the public that there was no way Adrien was involved in any of his fathers crimes nor was he a holder of a miraculous. It had been a wild ride from start to finish, but all considering it only took two whole years to get Adrien back in the world's good graces when the sunshine boy didn’t think he’d ever be able to live it down. 

“I spearheaded Adrien’s redemption. We donated to so many relief funds, I used our similar appearances to go onto talk shows to give a more calculated interviews. I did everything in my power to make people realize how inherently good Adrien is, and it worked.” Felix let out a long breath before turning a kind smile towards her. “But by the time all of that was done I had changed. I had become a person Adrien was proud of, and now I am here planning his wedding with his best friend. Whom, might I add, he talked about almost as much as he did his own girlfriend.”

“Now if you could have told me that, say, five years ago I would have been ecstatic.” Marinette set her portfolio down on the coffee table as she remembered how intense her crush for Adrien used to be. “But I am long over my crush on Adrien.”

“I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“Hm?” Marinette tilted her head to the side, not sure what he was talking about.

“Deleting your confession.” He explained. “It was wrong of me. I was jealous and petty and I’m sorry.”

Marinette wasn’t angry anymore, even if she wanted to be. Felix wasn’t the same as he was all those years ago and neither was she. It was silly for her to hold onto all that anger when he had changed himself so completely. 

“I am, however, not sorry you didn’t end up with my cousin.” He grinned. “Now I might have a chance.”

Maybe not so completely.

“In your dreams, devil boy!”

[toriasimmons]

Original posts: Belle and Elsa, Rapunzel, Tiana, Jasmine, Merida, Ariel, Mulan.

The October art challenge I chose to loop myself into on Instagram was one where you draw Disney princesses in various traditional Halloween costumes (#royaltober21, it’s called). Me being me, I said no, traditional Halloween costumes, that’s not enough, surely I must make the Disney princesses as if they actually were some of these things, specifically in the world of True Blood ‘cause I’m that bitch. Some of these are based on actual screencaps from the show (Belle and Elsa, Tiana, Ariel) while the others are vibes or concepts. And yes, there’s some meta.

Belle and Elsa, you might guess, are witches, proper magic-doing Wiccan witches. They’re part of a coven in New Orleans, and unlike the coven seen in canon, it’s not run by a bitter lunatic who wants to kill vampires. They’re just hanging out, doing magic, figuring their shit out. (Elsa is newer to practicing, you see, and Belle is helping to teach her about having/using magic and how it’s not scary.)

Rapunzel and Tiana are both fairies. Rapunzel is full-blooded and was born in the fairy realm, but she came to Earth when the borders were about to close because she wants to actually enjoy her life, and now she does aerial silks at the fairy nightclub. Tiana is only part-fairy and, much like Sookie, is still learning about what that entails.

Neither Jasmine nor Merida is a werewolf, but they’re both weres. Jasmine is a tiger, obviously, and Merida is a bear. Weretigers are generally a little fancier than werewolves, but werebears are just as rough-and-tumble. They’re both what passes for social royalty in their little societies; Jasmine is every bit a queen bee, while Merida is just ready to throw down and prove herself.

Finally, we’ve got our vampire babes. Ariel is literally just Jessica: she was turned unwillingly but now holy shit she loves being a vampire, it’s so much more fun than being an overprotected human teenager. (She can wear whatever she wants! She can say swears! She can... kiss!) Mulan, meanwhile, both is and isn’t Tara. Her life has been much less fraught, but you better believe she can cage fight and bartend with the best of them. (She’s seen here after grabbing a drink of her own in the Fangtasia bathroom.)

This is an incredibly niche little project of mine, and I know that, but I’m still quite proud of it.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #20: My Turn: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio’s got a game for you. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears, Mirio trying his hardest not to be a sunshine boi and only sort of failing

Notes: See? See? I can do thirst. I can make it SEXY. Today’s prompt was “Edging” and I just loved the thought of Mirio trying his best to be a little kinky for you. He’s definitely got a filthy side. 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a windy Saturday night in November and you’re curled in bed early with Mirio. Raindrops roll along the bias of your windowpane and the wind howls past your upper-level apartment.

But you don’t feel an ounce of cold, with Mirio- warm like the hearth- stretched out next to you. You’ve been like this all day, in and out of bed with episodes of a fluffy sitcom playing constantly in the background.

Now, though, as the chill of the evening’s pushed you closer together, your hands are starting to wander. It’s lazy at first- his rough palm up the edge of your thigh, your fingers dancing along his bicep. You’re easing into one another, and though you can feel the warm apex of where you’ll end up drawing near, you’re in no rush to get there.

Not yet, anyway. You’re about to eat those words.

“Princess,” he croons in your ear, drawing his lips up the side of your neck, “play a game with me?”

“Okay,” you giggle back as warmth blooms across your skin, following the path of his mouth. “But you picked Bananagrams last time, so this time I get to pick. Scrabble.”

He chuckles low and warm into your shoulder. Just the reaction you were hoping for. But he knows you’ve caught on, so he doesn’t even offer you a response. His mood has completely shifted.

That’s what you love so much about him.

“I wanna see how long you can last,” he murmurs. His fingers continue to trace up and down your thigh, as if he’s coaxing you around to the idea. But to you, it sounds like you’re going to get to do a whole lot of nothing while Mirio does his best to please you.

You don’t need any more coaxing than that.

“Like, without coming?” You hum, shifting a little so you can get a proper look at his face. He flicks his eyes up to yours, looking a little sheepish, but sure.

“Yeah. Y’know. I wanna test your stamina.”

You’re not exactly sure how to tell him that stamina isn’t a problem for you. He’s certainly never fallen short of satisfying you, but most of your sex life has been characterised by getting there in the first place, let alone measuring how long it takes you. You’ve never really had to hold out before- at least, not like he has.

This is going to be a cinch for you.

“Alright.” You smirk, but he’s one step ahead of you, already sliding his hand to your belly and starting to inch it toward the bottom of your shirt. You’ve got a flannel buttoned over your shoulders to keep the chill out, but it’s your day off and there’s no possible way he could have convinced you to wear pants.

Not that he’d tried.

He dips his face into your neck again, starting to kiss and lave his tongue over your delicate skin. You lean into the sensation eagerly, letting your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work their way toward the apex of your thighs.

The laugh track sounds quietly from the television as you let yourself relax. Mirio’s fingers are chilled as they dip into the hem of your panties, but he’s thrilled by the opportunity to pay you this kind of attention. He’s always so eager to get his hands on you. And you’re hardly ever in a position to deny him.

“I knew you were holdin’ out on me, princess,” he chuckles as his middle finger curls against your slit. You’re already growing wet with the anticipation of his touch, the shivers that his attentive mouth sent over your skin. He turns your chin with his free hand and drops a lazy kiss to your lips. All the while, he continues to gently explore your folds, working you open for him.

As he draws his wrist up to search for the swell of your clit, you’re starting to wonder if you do need to worry about your stamina. He’s barely touched you and already you’re starting to get those lovely little twinges of pleasure that have your hips twitching beneath his touch.

He grins, pulling his mouth teasingly from yours. “You’re gonna tell me if you’re about to cum, right?”

You never realized that his game was going to come with so many rules. But you know your own body- you’re more than ready to follow them.

“In that case, you might want to slow down, baby,” you breathe. Mirio laughs, nuzzling your neck and breathing hot puffs of air across your skin. The pad of his middle finger centers on your clit and he starts to circle in earnest.

“I could,” he quips, “or I could make it harder on you.”

His wrist flicks deftly back and forth between your legs. There’s something about the spot he’s found that’s tantalizingly perfect, and you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach. You purse your lips tightly, ready to ride that wave.

“Ooh,” you sigh, gripping Mirio’s thigh hard. “I’m close, baby.”

“That so?” He grunts in your ear. There’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone, but you don’t pick up on it yet.

“Yeah,” you whine, and he pulls his hand clean out of your panties. Your hips arch as you give a sullen little whimper. Immediately, you turn to face him.

“Why’d you stop?”

Mirio’s grinning. Normally, that grin sets you at ease. But there’s something about it today that sends a spike of nerves through your belly. He’s planning something.

You’re not sure you want to know what it is. You’re also not sure he’s going to give you a choice in the matter.

“I didn’t want the game to be over so soon, princess. C’mere.”

He slips a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you easily into his lap, situating you between his splayed thighs and letting you lean back against his chest. From there, he digs his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugs them down your thighs, helping you kick them off.

“Just relax,” he croons. “Watch TV. I gotcha.”

He brings his fingers to your pussy again, this time sliding his other hand under your thigh to join. He sinks two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing tight circles into your clit again. It doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge. Before you can even warn him this time, Mirio stops again.

“Mirio,” you plead softly, but he’s still chuckling and nuzzling you, over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you want something from me. C’mon, let’s go again.”

He brings you to the edge one more time like that, pushing you so close you can practically taste the relief. When he pulls away for the third time, you’re squirming and fussing in between his legs.

“Let me cum,” you whimper. You’re not even proud about asking for it anymore. He shifts, crawling out from behind you and easing you onto your back.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I gotcha, princess. You think I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”

You glare daggers up at him, and he just shoots you an easy wink as he slips between your thighs.

“You’re getting tender down here,” he purrs, nosing his way up your inner thigh as he settles onto his belly. “Y’almost ready for me?”

“I was ready for you weeks ago,” you grumble. You can’t stay angry for long when he puffs hot air over your clit, then drags his tongue along the folds of your pussy and swirls.

He eats you out like a man starved, holding your hips taught against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. When you’re sure you can’t take any more, he lifts his chin, tonguing the swell of your clit and making you scream.

But he still doesn’t let you go. He pulls back from your pussy as you start to tremble, and when he does you let out a sob of such frustration that, when you open your eyes, his brow is creased with legitimate concern.

“Why won’t you let me cum?” You blubber.

“Aw, man.” Mirio stretches out next to you and pulls you into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess, I-I just wanted to try something new with you. I-I thought…”

“Please,” you sniffle, “please, Mirio, just fuck me, before I do it myself.”

He pauses and looks down at you in shock. For a moment, his eyes search yours. Then he breaks down, grinning fondly at you.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Alright.”

He gets back between your legs, shucking his boxer-briefs and quickly stripping out of his t-shirt. As soon as he’s bare you can see how much he’s been enjoying your little game. His cock is already rock solid, flushed and curving perfectly towards his belly.

“God,” he sighs, casting a gaze over your desperate form. “Look at you.”

He pushes your flannel up around your chest, exposing your ribcage and your chest.  His thumbs strum your nipples. Then he grips your hips, positioning himself and easing smoothly into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows. Utter bliss.

But you can’t trust this pleasure.

He starts rocking his hips forward, undulating into you with dull cries of you’re so tight for me, princess, and I can’t believe you made it this far.

You don’t last much longer than that.

As soon as he settles into a familiar rhythm, the slap of his body against yours is enough to push you precariously close. You squirm underneath him, doing your best to hold out.

“Miri…Mirio, c-can I…” you choke, peering up at him as he continues to fuck you diligently.

“Of course, princess, shit,” he sighs, buckling over you. “Let go for me. Please. I wanna see it.”

The build-up has been immense. And the fall does not disappoint. You tumble over the edge like an avalanche, seizing hard around him as you grip his hips tightly with your trembling thighs. Your back pulls clean off the bed.

Your vision goes white.

When the spots clear he’s panting above you, his cock already going soft inside you. But you don’t care. He made good on his promise- you are neither high nor dry.

“There you go,” he coos, pressing tender kisses across your collar bones and down your shoulders. “That’s it. God, you’re so pretty when you’re coming your brains out.”

You muster a weak chuckle, pulling him into your arms as he collapses beside you. The TV is still playing, and you slowly settle back into watching together as you bask in the afterglow of Mirio’s vicious game.

“So that was… okay, in the end,” he finally says, tracing a fingertip down the buttons of your flannel as you tug the warm fabric back into place.

“Yeah,” you agree sleepily. “It was fun.”

“So we can do it again sometime?” He quips carefully. You purse your lips, pretending to mull it over.

“Sure.”

He bolts upright. “Really?”

You pillow your arms behind your head and smirk.

“Yeah. Only next time it’s my turn.”