#it's hard to read so i think i have to go fuss with the colors when i have some time

[mooooonnnzz]

Platonic ask for gravity falls 🩷

The twins with a mother figure? Those kids are all around saving the world, someone needs to seriously worry about them and make a little fuss lol maybe the mother figure is Stanley or Stanford new wife? I just imagine the twins coming back next summer and boom new mother/aunt

Heartbreak, Heartbreak

Stanford x Reader / Dipper & Mable x Mother!Reader

✦ your stanfords wife whaatt?!

✦ i feel like this is one of my weaker works, i apologize

✦ 2,5k words

✦ fem reader

✦ gulp i hope i did ur request justice 😭

✦ mable goes "stop fighting!!" at some point

✦ requests r still deliciously open

꣑୧ Coming back to Gravity Falls was a dream come true for the twins. What they weren’t expecting was to see their Great Uncle Ford walk in the Mystery Shack hand in hand with you. Mable was the first to bombard you Grunkle with questions; which stemmed from “Oh my god, when did you guys meet?” to “Oh my god, oh my god, am I going to have Great Cousins? That sounds weird, doesn’t it?” Ford had to calm her down before she got too rowdy with their questions and overwhelm you. 

꣑୧ Once Mable was calm enough to sit down in the same room with you, without bursting in her seat with excitement, was when Ford broke the news. “Mable, Dipper. This is my wife,” He said, wrapping his arms around you, his hand moving up and down your arm in a soothing manner. You introduced yourself to the twins who were more than happy to meet you. 

꣑୧ “Did our Grunkle by some chance, manage to hypnotize you into dating him with a book?” Dipper asked with an analyzing stare. His lips were puckered, pointer finger and thumb on his chin, tapping it curiously. Not expecting a question as absurd as that, you let out a laugh. Shaking your head, you smiled at Dipper. “Not at all,” You respond, taking Ford’s hand with yours, intertwining your fingers together. “He just won me over with his nerdy charm.” You say, your eyes locked on Ford. A rush of blood swarmed Ford’s cheeks. A chorus of groans echoed in the shack. Stan appears behind the kids, resting his arms on the top of their chairs. “See, kids,” He motions over to you and Ford with a swipe of his hand. “This is what I had to deal with while you guys were gone.” With a sympathetic look, Mable rested her hand on his arm, shaking her head sorrowfully. “I’m so sorry, Grunkle Stan.” 

꣑୧ After the initial shock wore off, Dipper and Mable began to grew skeptical of you. What if you were one of Bill’s goons disguising yourself as a human? And your goal was to take down their Grunkles and start Weirdmageddon 2?! Rushing up to their room in the attic, they pulled out their trusty 8-ball, the one they used the first day they arrived at Gravity Falls and when they were unsure if they were safe to stay with Grunkle Stan. They both sat down on the floor, 8-ball in Dipper’s hand. “Okay, magic 8-ball!” Mable boomed loudly with a weird amalgamation of a British and French accent. “Mable, keep it down.” Dipper shushed. “Oops,” Mable giggled. “Okay, magic 8-ball,” She whispered, her head uncomfortably close to the 8-ball. “Is Grunkle Ford’s wife evil?” With a rapid shake, Dipper and Mable peered into the ball. A pyramid accompanied with words appeared. “Don’t count on it.” The twins read out loud. “Huh…” Mable slowly nodded her head, eyes squinted in thought. “Well,” Dipper tossed the 8-ball behind him. “The magic 8-ball never lies.” 

꣑୧  Getting along with the twins wasn’t hard. All you had to do was grab your car keys from your purse, jingle them as if they were a bell and wait. Few minutes later, you’d hear their feet stomping down the stairs and a flash of colors swarming the living room. “I heard keys jingle, I heard keys jingle!!” Mable’s eyes darted around the room in search of the keys and when her eyes landed on you, her eyes sparkled with joy and anticipation. “Are you taking us somewhere, Great Aunt [Name]?” You smiled, spinning the keys around your finger. “Depends,” You pretended to think for a moment, just to keep them on their toes. “Where would you guys like to go?” A laugh escapes you as Dipper and Mable attack you with where they want to go. “Alright, let me tell your Grunkle that I’m taking you guys out.” Digging through your purse, you fish out your phone. You turned it on and went to your contacts. With a tap, you dialed his number. He picked up almost immediately. “Yes, dear?” You could hear his pencil scribbling on a piece of paper. “I’m taking Dipper and Mable out for the day.” You tell him, mouthing to the kids to get in the car. They scampered out of the living room and to the hallway. You could hear the door open and their hushed voices as they made a beeline to your car. “Okay, be safe when you’re driving and call me whenever you can, okay?” You hummed in response. “Of course, I’ll keep you updated on the kids.” You say, walking out of the shack and to your car. “I want updates on how you feel too,” You could feel the love dripping from his tone. “I will, my love.” You blow a kiss into the phone, wishing Ford goodbye. He blows one back and the call ends. Entering the car, you look behind you to see the twins all buckled up and ready for their adventure. “You guys ready?” “Yeah!” 

꣑୧ “So, Dipper, what’s with those dots on your arm?” You point at the four dots on his arm with a fry. Dipper looked down to his arm. His eyebrows rise in shock. “I-I completely forgot I had these,” Dipper’s thumbs the scars, an uneasy look on his face. Your heart stops in your chest. “I’m so sorry, Dipper. I didn’t mean to make–’ Dipper’s hands raise up to his chest, waving them side to side, dismissing your concerns. He assured you that your question didn’t make him uncomfortable. “No, no! It’s just…” He rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “He got possessed by a demon!” Mable blurts out, stuffing her face with a greasy burger. “Mable!” Dipper whines. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t handle you beating around the bush any longer.” She says with a mouthful of chewed up food. You leaned yourself back in the booth, trying to assess what Mable just said. “Dipper got possessed?” You repeated in a question. “Yeah, I kinda did.” Dipper said with a slight voice crack. “Can I know how?” Disbelief was thick in your tone. You didn’t know whether to laugh or walk away in shock. They don’t look like they’re telling a joke? The way Dipper has his head slightly hung low and a tiny frown on his face proved that. But Mable seems as jolly as ever. You fight with yourself, trying to make sense of what happened when Dipper spoke up. “Have you heard of the name Bill Cipher?” Shaking your head no, the twins dove straight into a very long story pertaining to Bill Cipher and how he tormented them throughout summer last year and ultimately led to the world almost ending. “Wow,” Was all that you could mutter. You never got your question about Dipper’s scar answered that day. 

꣑୧ Laying in bed, you eyes drifted over to Ford who was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. “You wanna know something crazy the twins told me earlier today?” Ford spat out the toothpaste into the sink. “What did those knuckleheads tell you?” He said, cupping his hand under the running faucet and filling his hand up with water. “It was this really crazy story,” You started. Ford nodded, dunking the water in his mouth and sloshing it around. “They told me about this interdimensional demon named Bill Cipher?--” Ford spit out the water in shock, spraying it everywhere on the mirror. You sat up in surprise. “Ford?” You pushed the blankets off of you and walked over to Ford, your hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” With a forced, “mhm,” he wiped the dripping water from his lips with his forearm. “Y-yeah, no. I’m fine.” He waved you off, nodding his head vigorously, almost as if he was convincing himself that everything was fine. “Are you sure?” Concern laced your voice. Someone who’s fine wouldn’t spit out their water like that at the mention of…Bill Cipher? That’s when it clicked for you. “You have history with this demon as well, don’t you?” Ford groaned, running his hands down his face. “Those kids can’t keep their mouths shut, can they?” He mumbled to himself, his head turning to face you. “What else did they tell you?” That night, you spent it horrified with the tales he told you regarding the past summer and his time with Bill. “And you never told me this, why?” Ford nervously pushed his glasses up, his eyes looking everywhere but you. “Because I…” He trailed off. “I don’t know,” He stops for a moment, inhaling deeply before continuing. “I didn’t want to scare you off. My past...isn’t something I could easily tell you without having a second thought.” A frown pulls to your lips. “Were you ever going to tell me?” You ask, your voice frail and quiet. “Yes?” His tone was full of uncertainty. You didn’t know what to think. One side of you wanted to be mad at him for keeping all of this from you, but on the other hand you felt sympathetic. You knew this wasn’t an easy topic to discuss normally. And you could tell it took him a lot of courage to admit a side of him that he wasn’t fully ready to reveal. But you were deeply hurt that he kept such secrets from you for a long time. And considering how he responded to your question, you weren’t even sure he was going to tell you any time soon. “What are you thinking about?” Ford’s voice ripped you out from your thoughts, grounding you back to reality. “I’m thinking about how crazy all of this is. I didn’t know. The kids went through so much at a young age. A-and you act like it was nothing, they could’ve died Ford.” Your hand rested on the side of your forehead. “You also made a deal with a demon? I…” You let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Stanford.” Ford cringed at the use of his full name. “I can go, if you’d like me to.” You raised your hand up to stop him. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just need time to process this,” You offer him a weak smile. “That’s all I need right now my love, just time.” 

꣑୧ “You what?!” Mable and Dipper both screech at the same time. “Yeesh, Ford. And I thought I was a screw-up.” Stan chuckled, elbowing Mable to see if that got a rise from her. It did not. “I thought I was protecting her from all of this madness!” Ford’s elbow rested on the dining room table, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Grunkle Stan tried doing the same thing, did you see how that almost ended for us?” Dipper said. “I know, I know.” Ford weakly muttered out. “Then, why did you keep such important details away from her?” Stan argued. “Because I was trying to protect her!” Ford yelled, slamming his hands on the table. That seemed to get a rise from Stan. “Well, maybe you weren’t trying hard enough! Now, look at what you did. You fucked everything up.” He shouted. “Oh!” Ford stood up from his chair. “That’s hilarious coming from you!” Scrambling up the table, Mable slammed her foot down, gaining the attention from Ford and Stan. “Fighting isn’t going to fix things, guys.” She said, “Ford had his reasons, like how you had your reasons for hiding Grunkle Ford from us, Grunkle Stan.” Ford adjusted his sweater, sitting back down on his chair. “Now, Grunkle Ford. What did she tell you?” She asked, turning over to Ford. “She told me that she needed time.” Sitting crossed-crossed, she nodded her head intently. “That’s good, right?” In return was silence. “Right, guys?” Both Dipper and Stan agreed. “Great! Now while we wait, can we apologize to each other for acting so mean and for swearing.” She directed a look to Stan who scoffed. 

꣑୧  And wait they did. After a couple of days, Ford’s phone randomly started ringing. Rushing to pick it up, he lifted his phone to see you calling him. He gulped nervously, suddenly second guessing himself. Should he pick up the phone? If he does, what if it’s you telling him that you want a divorce? Or that you need a break, or that– “Grunkle Ford!” Dipper snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Answer!” He pointed to the phone. “I got it!” Mable sang out, swiping her finger to the right. There was a beat of silence. Mable and Dipper anxiously waited for at least you or him to speak. One of them was about to intrude, no longer able to withstand such silence when you spoke up. “My love?” Your voice was timid. Ford’s heart lunged to his throat. How he missed your voice. “Y-Yes?” He mentally punched himself for stuttering like a complete fool in front of you. “Can you open the door for me? It’s locked.” Without a second thought, Ford practically ran over to the door and whipped it open for you. The twins watched you and him silently talk to each other from a distance. After a few tearful words and hugs, they recoil in disgust when they see Ford swoop you in for a kiss. “Oh my eyes!” Mable dramatically exclaimed. “Gross.” Dipper made a face in disgust. 

꣑୧ “I’m still mad at Ford for roping you kids into all that madness.” You tell the kids, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. “Dawww, don’t you worry about us.” Mable put a hand to her cheek bashfully. “We can handle it.” You found that hard to believe. “Is Gravity Falls still…crazy?” You whisper the last part, in case Bill Cipher is listening. You’ve only heard stories of him, but hearing what he has done rooted a new fear in you. “Kind of? There’s still weird things that happen here, but not as bad as last summer.” Dipper said, jotting down a few notes in his journal. “How come I’ve never seen anything weird?” You wondered. “Because you’re too busy making out with Grunkle Ford to notice anything!” Mable chirped, kicking her feet as she drew on colored piece of paper. That elicited a laugh from Dipper and a “What!” Ford walked in with an eyebrow raised and breakfast in hand. ”I heard I was mentioned in a conversation. Are you guys talking crap about me?” Ford places his food on the table and pulls back a chair. He sits right next to you and before he dives in on his breakfast, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips. “You wish!” Mable says, flipping her paper on its backside. “I do not.” Ford said quietly. “So, kids saving the world, huh? That has to count as some kind of child abuse.” You half said seriously, half said jokingly. Ford rolled his eyes. “What? Are you gonna arrest me?” You glared at him. “I might…” 

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 19 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake's birthday starts out with the perfect breakfast in bed and ends with a night out at the Hard Deck with his girlfriend. Somewhere along the way, Jessica gets the wrong impression of the way he feels about her and the gift she got for him, but he's ready to straighten her out.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, language, drinking, 18+

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake woke up late with sunlight on his face and Jessica still sound asleep next to him. His fingers were threaded through her hair, and his lips were close to her forehead. When she squirmed a little bit in her sleep, he kissed her, and she tucked herself under his chin. 

"Happy birthday," she whispered, and he stroked his thumb along her cheek.

"You already told me that last night," he drawled softly.

"Is there a limit on how many times I'm allowed to say it today?" She kissed his Adam's apple and ran her fingers through his chest hair, and he melted at her touch.

"No," he whispered. "I'm just not used to anyone making a fuss over me."

"So you said," Jessica replied. "Do you want to make waffles? I'd offer to do it, but I think you should at least supervise." 

Jake chuckled and pulled the blanket higher up over both of them. "Not yet," he murmured against her lips. "I just want a little bit more of this first." She let him pull her against his body while he rolled onto his back, and she ended up on top of him with a smile on her face. "God, Jessica," he whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

He saw the blush that colored her cheeks before she rested her head against his chest. "I should be the one showering you with compliments today," she mumbled. "Not the other way around."

Jake grinned and tucked his hands behind his head. "Go for it," he said, and she met his eyes again. "Do your worst."

She took his chin in her hand and moved his head around at different angles. "You're okay looking," she said with a shrug. "For a blonde." She was obviously trying not to laugh as she said, "And your body is decent."

"Decent?" he repeated. 

"Yeah. You heard me."

In an instant she was on her back with both of her hands pinned above her head in one of his, and Jake's fingers grazed her side. "There goes the idea I had where you were going to be nice to me all day."

She laughed and tried to squirm away from his fingers. "You told me to do my worst! You're hot, and you know it. Now don't you dare tickle me."

Jake winked at her before gently squeezing her below the ribs making her squeal. "That's just a little threat right there, Smart Girl. To keep you in line."

"I'll be nice!"

When he released her hands, she looped them around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. She was still laughing, which made him laugh. And then Jake just made out with his girlfriend. His hands stayed on her waist even though she was naked and perfect, and hers remained on his shoulders and in his hair. 

"I like this," he whispered against her neck. "Having you here is a nice birthday treat."

She nipped his lips and ran her nose along his cheek as their legs tangled together. "I like it, too." When she ran her nails along his scalp, he groaned and ended up curled up in her arms. "You're adorable," she whispered. 

"I thought you said I was hot."

With a soft kiss to his forehead, she said, "You are. But that's not even close to being the best thing about you, Smart Boy." 

Jake was so in love. It was time to say something. He was sure about it. But she pulled her hand away when his stomach growled, and she laughed. "Let's make waffles."

-----------------------

Jessica was wearing one of Jake's TOP GUN shirts and running back and forth between the waffle iron and the wall outside his bedroom door. "Is it straight?" Jake asked as he held up the print of his jet that she gave him for his birthday. And he was completely naked which just made it so much better. 

"Wait!" Jessica called out as the waffle iron beeped. She was getting pretty good at this now. She made the batter this time with just the tiniest bit of help, and she knew just how much to scoop onto the iron to make them come out perfectly. Once a new waffle was cooking, she ran back to Jake again. He hadn't moved an inch, and when she checked to see how the frame looked, she kissed his back and said, "It's perfect."

He handed the frame to her, hammered the nail into the wall, and then hung it up. "I love this," he whispered. "Thank you."

Then he cut up strawberries again and ate a stack of three waffles that he told her were the most delicious things he'd ever had while she finished hers. "Actually... I lied," he said as he took the dishes to the sink. "They were definitely not the most delicious thing I've ever had."

"Oh." She felt a little dejected as she said, "I'm just getting used to making the batter, so I'm sure they'll be better next time." She was about to offer to wash the dishes when he started to grin at her. "What?"

"Come on, Smart Girl, use your big brain. What do you think is the most incredible tasting thing I've ever had my mouth on?"

"Oh!"

Approximately fifteen seconds later, Jessica was on her back in the middle of Jake's bed with the shirt pulled up to her chest and his lips on her pussy. She tried to push him away, tried to insist they could take a quick shower together first, but he wasn't having it. 

He ran his tongue slowly, luxuriously up and down along her slit and whined her name as her back arched off the bed. "So sweet." He plucked meticulously at her clit with warm lips while he spread her open with his thumbs. "And so pretty." She could feel the cool air on her most intimate parts as he ran his nose and lips through her wetness, making her moan.

"Jake."

"Mmm. I love how you make it sound like so many syllables," he teased, looking up at her. "Like you can't get enough of saying my name." Jessica watched him lick his lips before he smirked, and then Jake spit on her pussy. She watched the strand of saliva leave his lips, and she felt it hit her clit, and she bucked up off the bed as his mouth met her once again. 

She was panting, so turned on. She thought about the damp thong Jake had peeled off of her last night that was still somewhere on his floor. He'd fucked her slow and steady after that, but now he was eating her like he was starving. "Oh my god," she groaned when she felt him suck on her a little hard. "Oh hell." It was pleasure skimming the line of pain, and he soothed her with his tongue before doing it again.

"That's it," he grunted when she started rolling her hips up to meet his face. He licked her with his tongue flat and firm while she rubbed her pussy against him, completely out of control now. Her fingers were curled in the bedding, and she was digging her heels in as she got closer. Just a little bit closer.

When he wrapped his lips around her clit and cradled her rear end with both hands, Jessica came, thrusting against his handsome face and shaking her head. She was still hanging onto the bedding, her brain feeling fuzzy as he plucked at her with his lips, drawing out every little aftershock until she was giggling deliriously. 

"Damn," he murmured as he looked up at her and dragged his lips along her inner thigh. "So much better than the waffles."

"Jake," she gasped, his name coming out with surprised laughter as she carefully propped herself up on her elbows. He was kissing her knee now and running his hands along her skin, but she noticed his cock was so hard, so red and so ready to go. "Are you gonna fuck me, birthday boy?"

His eyes went a little wide as she bit her lip. "Is that okay?"

She nodded. "Absolutely." 

In an instant he was easing his cock inside her and kissing her lips. "I didn't want it to feel like too much," he whispered, his voice ragged as he started to thrust. He tasted like her, and she was exhausted, but it still wasn't too much at all. Not with the way he was already so close, and the way he talked her through it. "I didn't want you to think I expected anything more than the pleasure of my mouth on your body."

She moaned and raked her fingers through his hair as he filled her up. He was sweet and loving, and there were so many things she wanted to tell him. But as soon as he was spent, both of them curled up together and fell asleep. 

---------------------------

Jake watched Jessica parade out of the bathroom wrapped up in one of his towels. She was insistent that she spend an obscene amount of time on her hair and makeup. Sure, she looked good, but she looked great all the time. He lounged back on the bed, already dressed and ready to go as she finally dropped the towel and started to put on the little lingerie set she brought with her. God, he wished that lived in his closet permanently. 

He grinned as she hooked the black bra that he would be taking off again later, and he said, "Dinner's in the oven."

"Okay," she replied, smoothing the lace against her body before she pulled a little black dress on. "How does this look? Because if it's not okay, I brought like five others to choose from."

Jake raised one eyebrow. "Is this some sort of joke? You look perfect, Baby."

"Are you sure?" she asked, adjusting the fabric across her ass and only making the damn thing look even better. "I want to make a good impression, you know?"

Jake laughed. "You're worried about that?"

"Well... yeah."

He sat up and reached for her. "You know Bradshaw and his Sugar will be there."

"It's so funny to me that he calls her that, because she's such a hardass when she needs to be," Jessica replied with wide eyes.

Jake snickered, well aware of that dynamic by this point. "I think that's why he loves her so much," he muttered, wrapping his hands around Jessica's thighs. "But you have nothing to be nervous about. Coyote already knows all about you and can't wait to meet you. Phoenix will be excited to have more estrogen in her presence. Fanboy will ask you if you like Star Trek or Star Wars better, and he'll judge you relentlessly based entirely upon your answer. Payback is probably the nicest person you'll ever meet in your life. And Bob will blush and stutter as soon as you shake his hand."

"I might be the one stuttering," she whispered nervously as she adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers. 

He stood and wrapped an arm around her waist. "You'll feel better after we eat," he promised. 

She gasped in delight when she saw that tray of chicken and vegetables he pulled from the oven. "My grandma used to make these kinds of dinners on birthdays, and I guess it kind of stuck. I'll make one for your birthday, too." He realized that was five months away, but he meant every word of it. 

"With all the fancy herbs and everything?" she asked softly. 

"Of course. All the fancy shit."

He watched Jessica take a bite of food, and all he wanted to do was drag her back to bed for the night as she closed her eyes and moaned softly. "It's so good. Oh my goodness, Jake!" She cleaned her plate and got more, and he told himself he'd make it again sooner than her birthday. 

When she offered to wash the dishes, he said, "I'll do them tomorrow. Let's get to the bar and get back home for the night."

After she slipped on a pair of red high heels that he'd never even seen before, he led her out to his new truck and helped her in. She talked a little bit more about work and her tenure review as he drove, and Jake realized how much happier she seemed when she didn't have to see Brian every day. He wondered what it would be like when that asshole came back to work. He would have to make sure he visited her office hours with enough frequency to keep Brian in line and keep his hands and nasty words to himself. 

"It's so cute!" Jessica gushed when he pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot.

He laughed and said, "Don't let Penny hear you call it that. It's a Naval hangout, Reedy. Supposed to be a little rough around the edges."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Just like you're supposed to be a little rough around the edges? Since you're in the Navy? Yeah, nobody's buying that."

"Come here," he whined, and a second later, she was on her back on the front seat with Jake's lips hovering over hers. He had one hand up under her dress, wrapped around her bare thigh and the other stroking her collarbone. 

"How do we keep ending up like this?" she asked as he moved his hand slowly down to her knee and then her ankle while he kissed her neck.

"I have very poor self control when it comes to you."

Her skin was soft and warm everywhere beneath his hands and lips, but he knew she was right when she said, "We have to go in and have at least one drink." So they walked across the parking lot holding hands, and Jake didn't even bother to fix the little smear of her lipstick next to her bottom lip. In fact, he kind of hoped their kissing was evident on his own mouth, too. 

But after they were inside for about ten seconds, he started to feel a little apprehensive. The girls from last weekend were back, and they spotted him right away. He wrapped his arm around Jessica's waist as she smiled up at him and fixed her glasses. But the bar was also filled with a lot of women he'd hooked up with in the past, some on a regular basis. He felt warm and a little bit embarrassed already, even though his girlfriend didn't seem to notice. 

"I know it's your birthday, but you have to buy me a Sam Adams," she teased, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He felt a little bit better as he ordered two beers from Penny. While they waited, he saw Bradshaw over by the pool table in an obnoxiously bright tie dye shirt and backwards cap, with his lips pressed to his wife's ear. Jake used to think they were a little bit ridiculous, but now he got it. He understood what that felt like as he turned toward Jessica again and kissed her next to her lipstick smudge.

When the beers were set down in front of them, Jake cleared his throat and said, "Penny, my dear, this is Jessica. My girlfriend."

He saw the bar owner's eyes go wide as they settled on her face. "Wow. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jessica."

"Likewise," she replied with a smile. "Jake told me not to tell you that I think your bar is cute, but I really do think it's kind of cute." She gestured to all the personalized mugs hanging from the ceiling with a laugh. 

"Thank you," Penny replied. "It's like they don't think anything related to the Navy can also be whimsical."

A minute later, Jake was leading Jessica toward the pool table while she giggled. "You just couldn't help yourself, huh? Now everyone's going to like you, and the secret's going to be out."

"What secret?" she asked as he let his hand settle low on her hip.

"That I'm dating a nice girl."

-----------------------------

"Advanced Physics! Welcome to the Hard Deck." Jessica just gaped at her friend. Gone were the tweed skirts and pants and loafers. She looked devastatingly sexy in a black bodysuit and jeans with dark red lipstick and her husband's hand on her waist. 

"You look nice," Jessica told her as she started to rethink the rather modest dress she was wearing herself. Actually, most of the other women here were wearing essentially nothing, and she wouldn't be surprised if she saw someone else's breasts soon. 

"Hey, Jess," Bradley said, barely taking his eyes off his wife. "The beers here aren't as good as the ones Dev makes at Beta."

"I don't mind," she replied, taking a sip of her Sam Adams. It was still one of her favorites.

"Can we not talk about Dev? On my birthday?" Jake drawled, downing half of his own bottle. 

Before Jessica could even respond, there was a petite brunette woman in front of her, eyeing her up and down. "You're joking, right? Hangman? You're dating Jake?" Jessica felt her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment, unsure what to say. "What do you possibly see in him?" she asked, sending a smirk in Jake's direction.

"And here we go," he muttered, kissing Jessica's cheek. "Jess, this is Phoenix."

But before she could even respond, Payback and Coyote were both there, too. And then she got cornered in a conversation about the Marvel Cinematic Universe with Fanboy. And Bob did in fact blush when Jessica told him she was pleased to meet him. Then she had a really nice conversation with Coyote about fuel combustion, and Jake handed her another Sam Adams with a smile before he started to play pool. 

She was surprised at how easygoing and welcoming everyone was. She supposed it wasn't so long ago that the group had welcomed Bradshaw's wife with open arms, because she was clearly one of them now. This evening was turning out really nice. Well, other than the two girls who were looking at Jake like he was a snack. 

"Wanna play?" Jake asked, holding out his pool cue for her. 

"Sure," Jessica replied. She watched Bradley re rack the balls, and he let her break. So she did, forgetting herself for a moment. She ran the table just like she always did, sinking shot after shot, leaving nobody else a chance to even go against her. When she was done, she looked up and stood to her full height to find everyone gaping at her. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Jake burst out laughing, head tipped back in delight. "That's my fucking girl. Physics mastermind."

"Damn," Payback said, clearly impressed. "Usually nobody can beat me."

Jessica shrugged and said, "I could give you lessons?"

Now everyone was talking and laughing, and Phoenix winked at her as Jake backed her up towards the wall. "That was so hot, Baby," he whispered. "So fucking hot." His lips skimmed the shell of her ear, and heat flared through her belly as she gasped. 

"Jake," she whispered, reminding him they definitely weren't alone. 

"I'll behave until I get you back home," he promised, but she could feel his hand slide down from her back to her butt, and somehow she doubted it. 

She spent the next hour feeling too hot while she tried to tone down her pool playing skills a bit. Every time Jake looked her way, she felt herself clench with need, and eventually she excused herself to the ladies' room.

"I'll be right back," she promised after he pointed in the direction of a narrow hallway on the other side of the bar. It was thankfully cooler back here and a lot quieter, too. Jessica took a few minutes to get herself under control. It must be obvious to everyone what she was thinking about doing with Jake later in the privacy of his condo. She washed her hands and realized that her lipstick was smudged, but when she checked herself in the mirror to fix it, she looked happy.

With a smile, she smoothed down her dress and headed back out into the noisy bar toward the group of aviators. But she stumbled in her heels when she saw Jake next to the jukebox with his back to her and a girl wearing tiny shorts in his personal space. Jessica didn't even need to be good at reading lips to know that she just told Jake I miss you.

The two beers she drank started to sour in her stomach as she watched the other woman reach for Jake's hand. None of this stuff seemed like such a big deal when he mentioned it last weekend, but now Jessica kind of understood things a little better. This is what Jake was used to, and she was nothing like these other women. Her black dress felt like it was mocking her now even as she just finished checking herself out in the bathroom mirror. She was more covered up than basically anyone here besides the bartenders, and she flushed in embarrassment.

Jessica took a few steps closer while Jake pulled his hand free, but she could clearly hear the woman ask him, "Do you remember what I gave you for your birthday last year? I could take you outside and suck your cock again. Or we could hook up in your truck like a few months ago."

Jake was adamantly shaking his head and backing up, turning toward the bathroom, and then he saw Jessica standing right there. "Reedy," he groaned miserably, reaching out for her just as she stepped further away from him. "Please."

Tears filled her eyes as she watched the other woman grin before walking away, and if she was embarrassed before, now she was mortified. Jessica got Jake an actual birthday present and wrapped it up for him when she should have been offering to do those kinds of things instead? Why was she even here? And how many of these women were looking at her with pity in their eyes, because they knew she was completely out of her depth?

"God, I miss Chippy's," she gasped softly as she tried to turn away from her boyfriend. 

"Baby, listen," he begged, ending up in front of her again no matter which way she turned. "I haven't even looked at her in months. Since before we met!"

She kind of nodded as her lips quivered. It wasn't that she didn't believe him. "I know," she managed, trying to look at him through her tears. "I'm just embarrassed about what I gave you for your birthday. I mean, I can give you a blowjob here if that's what you want. I just...didn't know."

He dropped his hands to his sides and looked at her as if she'd just slapped him. "That's not... Jessica, that's not what I want." He swallowed hard and raked his fingers through his hair as he groaned and looked at the floor. 

"I should have put all the pieces together," she whispered. "I never offered to do anything like that for you before." Her mind was filled with the image of some other woman going down on him right outside where anyone could stumble upon them in the darkness, and she hiccupped awkwardly. The next sentence was out of her mouth before she could even consider her words. "How long do you really see us being together?"

"Jessica," he barked, looking more upset than she'd ever seen him before as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer to him in the crowd. She didn't try to fight him as his forehead came to rest against hers as a tear trickled down her cheek. "Baby. I'm in love with you."

She closed her eyes as more tears fell. "You are?" she asked in disbelief as he pressed her back against the wall next to the jukebox, afraid to meet his eyes. She'd almost said the words before, but she convinced herself it was too soon for them.

"Reedy," he gasped, wiping at her tears behind her glasses with his rough thumbs. "Please look at me." When she opened her eyes, his expression was soft but anxious, and he moved one hand back to her waist like he was afraid she was going to try to run away. "I love you. I love you, because you're not like everyone else. You're not offering to do that shit here, because you don't have to do anything like that to have all of my attention."

She stared at him with softly parted lips while her heart pounded, and he kissed her. "Jake," she whispered against his lips, and he kissed her harder. His hand was a little rough now as he tipped her chin up so she was looking at him. 

"Nobody else has ever called me smart before. Nobody else ever cared about my opinions before you, Jessica. You think anyone ever thought I might like to read a physics journal, let alone pick out some specifically covering topics that interested me? No. Just you," he said, kissing her forehead before continuing. "I love you, because you treat me better than anyone else ever has. You're actually perfect, Baby, and you treat me like I matter. And you made me work for it. I've been flying with a picture of you in my helmet bag so I can look at it whenever I want. I can barely handle going a day without seeing you. So when you ask me how long I see us staying together?" He sighed and studied her face before he said, "Forever? Or until you come to your senses? You tell me, Reedy."

She threw her arms around his neck so hard, he grunted as he caught her. "I love you, too. And I'm sorry I said that. I didn't mean it. I'll never come to my senses."

Jake laughed, and something like a giggle mixed with a sob escaped Jessica's lips before he kissed her again. It was really loud inside the bar now, but they were tucked right next to the jukebox like they were alone, and he dragged his lips against hers and tasted her tongue until he was practically gasping for air. "I love you," he told her again, green eyes earnest. "I've never said that to a woman before tonight, but I love you so much, Jessica."

She scraped her nails along the stubble on his jaw and cupped his cheek, her heart ready to overflow. "Will you let me beat you at pool one more time before we leave?"

"Anything you want," he promised with a grin. 

Jessica managed to inadvertently ensure her victory as she whispered to Jake how much she loved him until his cheeks were flushed and he was missing almost every shot. "I don't even care," he announced after she won. Then he quickly said goodnight to everyone else and accepted birthday hugs as he held onto Jessica's hand. 

When she couldn't run across the parking lot in her heels, Jake carried her while she laughed. "I just want to get home, look at the cool birthday gift that's hanging on my wall, and unwrap you in bed."

Two hours later, when he finally completed everything on his list and finished making love to his girlfriend, Jake lounged back against his pillow as he caught his breath. 

"Did you have a nice birthday?"

"The best."

------------------------

Jessica basically only needs to exist to have Jake's full attention. I'll be wrapping up this series soon! Get at me if there's something you're dying to see! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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[boulderpunchinglover]

Hii I was thinking for either bakugo or izuku u can write an image of the trend where the gf pretends that there's not enough food

also I'm so glad I found you, I know you only have one post up but I absolutely love your writing style and the way your profile colors are coordinated is so cute. I love it. Also because my favorite author is retiring 😭

also here's the link to the tik tok I'm referring to if you don't know

byee - 🖤🫶🏾

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNdQHYcw/

Woohoo! My first request!! As soon as I got the notification, I started writing immediately. TY for the profile compliment! I couldn’t decide on whether to write about Bakugo or Izuku so I did both! I hope that you and everyone who reads this enjoys <3

"There's not enough food" Prank on Bakugo and Izuku

Katsuki Bakugo

One night, you were scrolling on TikTok in your bed as Bakugo slept peacefully on your chest. You’re never up this late and you knew that Bakugo would be upset that you aren’t getting your beauty sleep. Good thing he fell asleep before you. He couldn’t fuss at you about being up this late. As you scroll, you see a video that catches your eye. A girl pranks her boyfriend by pretending that there's not enough food for the both of them and takes the plate with less food just to see his reaction. The boyfriend’s reaction catches your eye the most. He immediately takes some of the food off his plate and gives it to his girlfriend. “How sweet…” You say to yourself as you look down at Bakugo. “I wonder if Katsuki would have the same reaction…” neuron activated. You know what you are going to be doing tomorrow.

There was this restaurant that you and Bakugo went to regularly that had food worth dying for. You guys ordered the same thing every time: katsu curry. You decided to set up a date there to conduct the prank. Convincing Bakugo to go on a last minute date with you wasn’t hard at all. He was always happy to spend time with you. As you enter the restaurant, you come up with a plan on exactly how to go about this. “Kats, find us some seats. I’ll order the food for us.” Bakugo shrugs and does as he’s told. When you go up to the counter, you order a medium sized katsu curry bowl for Bakugo, and a small one for yourself. Once you sit beside Bakugo, he sees that you’re holding back laughter and raises his eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” You try to get your laughter to a minimum in order to answer his question. “Nothing, just thought of something funny.” Bakugo shrugs. He’s still sort of suspicious, but he doesn’t think much about it as he holds your hand. “Ok, weirdo…” A few minutes later, the waitress comes out with both of your bowls. She places the smaller one in front of you, and the bigger one in front of Bakugo. As you begin eating like everything is normal, you glance over at Bakugo’s face. He looks quite baffled.

What the hell?” Bakugo says as he compares your portion size to his. “Did you order a smaller size?” You shake your head. “My portion was smaller because the restaurant was running out of ingredients.” Bakugo scowls and begins to dump some of his food into your bowl. “That’s bullshit.” You giggle and try to stop him. “You don’t have to do that, Katsuki! I’m not even that hungry, for real!” Bakugo doesn’t believe that. “You were looking forward to going to this restaurant all day, idiot! I’d be damned if you can’t at least enjoy your meal like you wanted!” When Bakugou is done, you both have equal portions. In fact, you might have a little more. “There you go. If you want more, you can have more off my plate.” How sweet. You kiss Bakugo on his cheek and lay your head on his shoulder. “My hero. Thank you, babe. I love you.” Bakugo slightly blushes at your actions and words. He lovingly rubs your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too ♡”

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku insisted that he cook dinner when you were staying over at his house. After all, you were a guest. In his mind, you shouldn’t be the one cooking when you were the one staying over at his house! But after much convincing, he finally gives in and lets you cook. But little did he know, you offered to cook for a reason… to recreate a prank on TikTok that you saw where girls would give their boyfriends a plate with more food while they took the plate with less food just to see their reactions. Once you saw it, you knew that you just had to do it with Izuku. You decided to make Katsudon, which was his favorite food. His reaction was going to be interesting, as you knew that he loved Katsudon and he would most likely be reluctant to share with you. 

As you cook, you glance at Izuku as he studies at the kitchen table. He looks so peaceful, that you almost feel bad for your impending prank. (Keyword: almost). Once you get done cooking, you place each other's plates down on the table and take your seat. Izuku affectionately grins at you. “Thank you, love-” Izuku’s sentence is cut short when he notices that you barely have any food on your plate. “Y/N? What.. what is this about?” He says as he looks down at his plate in confusion. You smile and begin digging into your own, smaller portion plate. “There weren't enough ingredients for us to have the same amount. But that’s ok. I wasn’t that hungry anyway. 

Izuku shakes his head and swaps your plates. “In that case, you can have mine. It’s not fair for you to cook and eat the least amount.” You try to argue and swap the plates again. But he stops you. “Honey, I insist. Please don’t fight this…” You look into his eyes and see the genuine concern. You smile, knowing that you picked the right person to share your life with.

[bunnypansy]

NSFW Alphabet: Pantalone!

Rated R for EXPLICIT CONTENT!

A short script about the ABCs of The Regrator's sex life!

Featuring: Pantalone, and you!

Beware! This film contains: sexual content (duh), objectification, humiliation, financial domination, pet play, submission, handcuffs, spit kink, orgasm denial, edging, dacryphilia, mild degradation

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Perfect. Really! While the richest harbinger, Pantalone does not strike me as the lazy type. He’s not going to pawn off the aftercare on any staff, he’d rather do it himself. Pantalone goes through the same steps every time; he quickly cleans himself up, then gently wipes up the majority of your… fluids. He’ll run you both a nice bath- and you KNOW the Regrator has a giant, beautiful bathtub. Of course, Pantalone will clean you up with the highest quality soap, and when you’re done, he’ll moisturize you from head to toe! No need to stay awake, Pantalone doesn’t mind if you doze off. While he’s mostly hands on, he’ll have staff swap out the messy sheets before he lays you down to rest. Most likely, he’ll hold you close while you fall asleep and he reads.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your skin overall, which yeah, I know sounds weird, but walk with me. He loves your soft, smooth skin that’s perfect for bruising, kissing, biting; so pretty and delicate. Even in nonsexual moments, Pantalone likes to run his fingers over your skin and trace patterns, just for funsies. Like most of his things, he’ll do his best to make you take care of your beautiful skin. Also lips, beautiful, soft, pink lips just get him hard immediately; wear lip gloss and he’ll fall apart.

It’s not hard to see that Pantalone takes incredible care of his hair. He spends an immeasurable amount of time fussing over it, with a detailed washing schedule and care instructions. He spends much of his morning routine brushing, and styling his hair; if you feel like playing with it or styling it, feel free- but NEVER pull on his hair. EVER.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Pantalone takes impeccable care of himself, he’s well hydrated and keeps a good diet, so his cum is a clear, almost pearly color. It’s textured a lot like syrup and has almost no taste except for a faint saltiness- you’re not really sure how he makes his cum that flavorless. Pantalone doesn’t cum very much, it’s a bit disappointing but I’ll let you in on a little secret; if you squeeze his balls a lil bit you can make him squirt, and if you feel like putting in the effort, keep milking his cock after he starts cumming and he’ll cum even more. Please draw out his orgasm!!! Pantalone prefers cumming in your mouth, on your face or on your tummy- he’s not fond of trying to scoop his cum out of you later, too messy. Besides, don’t you just look beautiful with his cum on your face? Of course you do.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to try butt stuff. Huh? No no, not on you. (:

Okay fine I'll elaborate. I don't think he's experimented with anal on his own, he simply has a curiosity that he wants to sate. After sometime, Pantalone might bring up the subject, as casually as one might talk about the weather over morning tea. He actually wants to start rather vanilla with this, a bit of fingering, some gentler sex. After getting a small taste for subbing, he might let you do a few other things to him (cough cough sounding)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly? I don’t think he’s all that experienced when it comes to sustained relationships, he's very busy and not opposed to hiring sex workers! Everyone has needs, and he is happy to pay for services he deems necessary, as long as he’s satisfied with the result. In short; intimate experience? No. Casual experience? Yes.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Pantalone is usually fucking on the go (read: in his office), so he usually goes for the classic bending over desk. If he’s in the office, he’ll press your chest down the desktop and take you from behind, usually with his fingers in your mouth to pull you back and hold your jaw open. For a long while, he'll probably do this in the bedroom for a while too, bending you over the edge of the bed instead; but once he gets more accustomed to intimacy, I think he'll switch to missionary. Call it vanilla, but he likes being able to see your face, your expressions really heighten the experience for him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I wouldn't call it humorous, so much as mocking. He's not laughing with you, he's laughing at you. Pantalone likes humiliating you in little ways, squishing your tear-stained cheeks together and calling you a crybaby, then laughing at you. If you try to tease him back however, he'll brush it off and somehow turn it back onto you. He's mean? Awww, but you like it don't you? Mean perv.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Pantalone strikes me as the sort of man who just. Full body waxes. Not hair to be found on this man. Which is a damn shame cus he's got some of the most beautiful hair I've ever seen, so silky and soft… no he won't stop waxing even if you beg. Sorry sports fans, your hairy man is in another castle.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

When Pantalone was younger, (shallow) people weren’t exactly interested in him, now he’s just too busy with work to bother forming a relationship with others, so he's used to transactional sex. He's probably going to remain rather distant for a while; you will have to have a conversation about it for sure. Pantalone will take your criticism into consideration very easily, he wants you both to enjoy your time after all, then change his behavior for you. It's going to be an awkward change at first, and he'll engage in a lot of pillow talk to go over what was good and what needs improvement, but Pantalone will be nothing but agreeable.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Why would he attempt to satisfy himself with his hands when he could just pay for an escort? Truly, Pantalone doesn't see the need and doesn't get horny enough to crank the ol' hog. But I am nothing if not a kind God! So I'll write this for you anyway.

Unlike with sex, Pantalone will not want to mastrubate in his office, it's too vulnerable and he finds it a bit embarrassing. He is definitely the type of guy to take it slowly, slow strokes over his shaft and rubbing his thumb over his tip, then a good squeeze around the base. Pantalone stays quiet most of the time, just barely panting as he touches himself.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Humiliation: Pantalone loves to feel superior, full stop. As long as you give consent, Pantalone likes to keep you naked in his office, sitting on his desk or the floor like an ornament. His favorite thing to do is keep you bound in a corner, stuffed full of toys for anyone to see, but only him to touch.

Financial domination: He likes being the one with all the money in the relationship. A little part of himself thinks you'll only like him as long as he's rich, so flaunting his wealth to you is a turn on. It's also relieving to him that you're dependent, so that way, you can never leave. Pantalone loves most to dress you up in fineries, then tear it all off in the heat of the moment, just to prove how little those things mean to him.

Mild pet play: dragging you around on a leash is one of Pantalone's greatest pleasures. He likes feeling as if he owns you, calling you pet, giving you orders. Pantalone is definitely the type to buy you a very fancy collar with real jewels on it, then use it as a handle while you fuck. If he's going to have any pet, it'll be a puppy, he's interested in the absolute obedience dogs have.

Submission: Pantalone does not put up with brats, hands down. He desires complete and utter obedience from you in the bedroom, you can either comply or miss out on your dick appointment. Brat taming? In this economy?

Handcuffs: While I don't feel Pantalone likes full body bondage (he likes to feel you struggle against him), he appreciates handcuffs or general hand bondage. It's a good way to yank you around and make sure you don't pull his hair out. His personal favorite is to bind your hands, then make you sit on his lap with your arms around his neck.

Spit: I can't say I have strong reasoning for this, it's just a gut feeling. It's something about spitting in your mouth and making you swallow it that makes the possessive part of him flare up.

Objectification: I mean really, is anyone surprised? This man fully believes he can buy anything, including you. He owns you, and he's not going to act otherwise. Sometimes, if he's had a stressful night, he'll just lube you up and fuck you like a fleshlight, and he's not afraid call you such things either. "Pet", "toy", and "doll" are some of his favorite things to call you.

Orgasm denial/Edging (they go hand in hand for this man): This follows closely with his objectification kink- oh you wanna cum? No, no, no, pet. Fleshlights don't need to cum do they? Ah- they don't talk, either. Watching you squirm and cry for him strokes his ego greatly, and he's not afraid to make you beg.

Dacryphilia: You look. So pretty. When you cry. Your lips trembling, your eyes glittering with tears, eyes and nose reddened, cheeks wet- and at his hand? Even better. Of course, Pantalone cares too much about you to enjoy when you're simply miserable, but when he edges you to tears? Nothing better.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Pantalone is a rather private man, he'll want to stick to his two safe spaces; your bedroom and his office. Of course, the bedroom is your house, but he claims that no one can argue with what he does in the privacy of his own office, especially if someone forgets to knock- not like he'd stop either way. Public bathrooms or secluded alleys are beneath him, while fucking on couches or in showers is just too much of a hassle.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

What Pantalone REALLY wants out of this, is to feel like he owns you. He wants to know that you belong to him, that you are dependent upon him, and that he controls you; it's almost a comfort to him. If Pantalone holds all the control between the two of you, then it is utterly up to him whether you stay or go.

However, Pantalone will spend every waking moment reminding you why you should stay, and this applies to the bedroom as well. He wants to hear you cry out, feel you squirm, watch you cry; a reminder that he is the best man you will ever have.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Piss. I wouldn't call this particularly controversial, only a bit disappointing for the little pee-pee boys in the crowd (it's me I'm pee-pee boys). He doesn't like much of any kink that creates smell and a mess, it's just too much of a hassle to clean up and isn't worth it to him.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

For such a greedy man, Pantalone is a giver!!!! He doesn't care for receiving oral- it's fine -but why would he waste his time on fucking your mouth when he can be inside you? He much prefers the reactions he gets from eating you out or sucking you off. Considering this a bonus to the favorite position category, but when giving oral Pantalone has two favorite positions; letting you lay back and grabbing your hips to lift you to his mouth, or placing you on his lap upside down so your knees rest on his shoulders.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Pantalone keeps his pace moderate, focusing on making his thrusts deep and hard instead. He'll grab your waist and roll his hips against yours, aiming for all your sensitive spots with long, deep strokes. Of course, Pantalone's pace becomes a bit erratic when he's closer to cumming, speeding up then slowing to crawl- you know he's really at the edge when he starts pounding you as hard and fast as you can.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

No. Sorry guys. Pantalone wants to take his time with you and isn't going to settle for an ultimately dissatisfying quickie, he won't apologize either. Good things come to those who wait, don't they?

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

If you wanna try something new, Pantalone is happy to agree, most times he won't say no; though he might show hesitation if you ask him to harm you. You'll have to tell him in advance so he can properly research the kink and how to enact the fantasy safely, and even before you have sex he'll probably warn you that he's going to try something new.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

My guy is a one and done kind of man, squirt then skirt if you will. So yeah, unfortunately you're only getting a single round out of Pantalone, but that round can last about as long as you like- and perhaps longer. A session with Pantalone can last from one hour up to three, and he won't let himself cum once until you cum at least twice, so there are no worries of being left unsatisfied.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yes! Absolutely! Nipple clamps, a couple bullet vibrators, a wand vibrator, vary sizes of plugs, beads and dildos, an O-ring gag, spreader bars- though he only uses those last two if you're being shy with him. For afab partners he also owns a rosebud vibrator, and for the amabs he owns sounding rods and cock rings. Mostly the toys are for you, but with a bit of encouragement you might be able to coax him into using a few on himself. After a fair bit of experimentation, Pantalone finds himself in favor of wearing a cock ring and nipple clamps while fucking you… you might get him to warm up to a bit of sounding.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If Pantalone isn't a tease, then I don't know who is. He takes great pleasure in riling you up, then denying you sex entirely, not even allowing you to touch yourself; a test of your obedience. God forbid you break his rules and get caught using any toys on yourself- and you will get caught -Pantalone will spend hours punishing you for disobedience. You'll find yourself handcuffed and stuck in spreader bars, the largest dildo of Pantalone's collection stuffed into your hole. Your lover shows no kindness, grabbing the base of the toy and ramming it in and out as fast and hard as he can, but stopping right before you cum and waiting however long it takes for you to calm down. This will go on for hours until you're sobbing, begging for forgiveness and wailing your apologies. So yeah. Pantalone is far from fair.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

A few whimpers, mostly panting, maybe grunt here or there; While Pantalone may not be much of a moaner, he certainly is a chatterbox! He'll go on and on with you, muttering praise and degradation, fully expecting a response from you (how unrealistic, sir). He gets even worse when he gets closer to his orgasm; Pantalone's words break up with moans and become less coherent, but he still forces them out as fast as he possibly can, until he's stuttering forward a slew of curses at a near shout. Cutie <3

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The male boob lovers in the crowd are going to like this one- I believe with my entire heart that my double D malewife has sensitive nipples, his left one pierced. They're naturally puffy and pink, and they turn all red and swollen when you play with them. Unfortunately, Pantalone isn't going to give you much of a chance to toy with his chest, so when do you get boob time? One of the few times he subs, that's when. He's not going to argue if you pinch and pull on his nipples in the middle of easing your way inside of him, Pantalone is going to whimper. Enjoy this power, and use it wisely.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

This man is vice president of the pretty penis club (I'll elaborate on the prez in a later post). He sits around 5.7-ish flaccid and an easy 6 when he's hard, a skinny penis haver but it's okay because I love him. He only really has one prominent vein that trails from the underside of his shaft then wraps around to the front side, just beneath his tip. Speaking of his tip!! It's a beautiful shade of pink that reddens when he gets hard, and drips soooo much pre. He's got a slight upward curve and when he's very hard, his dick nearly touches his abdomen.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Pantalone has a relatively low sex drive, really only feeling the need for sex every two to three weeks, however! He has no problem going at it more often if you so desire, if anything he likes how dependent upon him you are, please, ask for more.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sleep?? After sex??? Pantalone could never. If anything, a good session clears his head and calms him down. He's more than likely to grab a lapdesk and do some paperwork while you're dozing off, but if it's really late or you went for a particularly long round he might just read at your side or even talk you to sleep.

That's the end of our showing for today, and as always, thank you for attending!

You can really REALLY smell the favoritism on this one, I'm very very in love with Pantalone and I wanna kith him.

[gavagecunctation]

upd8 re8ction

so it is tavvy i knew it. im surprised yiffy managed to get 8way seeing as like last we saw her she was 8eing yelled at 8y harvris 8ut it checks. i love tavvy and yiffys duo. we 8oth know we weren't meant to 8e 8orn.

(P.S. I left you guys some trail mix. Don’t pick the raisins out; they’re healthy.)

he's so silly. 8rother of all time. or uncle i guess

love his fuckass rich 8uoy sigil or wax seal or wh8tever

(sorry for the num8er of 8s this upd8 is really fucking me up for reasons you'll see on like the next panel)

cool panel love the composition love the everything. harry and vris look so silly. their heads are 8igger than jades. rose you're so 8ad at your jo8

harry stop 8eing a pussy. L.

this is the first time im actually enjoying the idea of tavvrissy 8eing kismeses and not just a guy and the 8oy she 8osses around

VRISSY: And neither is that Arrog8nt Hivewrecking 8ITCH!

HEY DON'T CALL ME THAT

this panel. just gorgeous. and 8lso heart8reaking for me. 8ye dad and fuck you to the anonymous shooter.

oh so N8W you do your jo8 . another 8anger panel. the choice to make rose shadowed/grey against harvris' regular colors is interesting to me. she's re8lly lost all her light huh

shed a single (8rave 8oy) tear. rip dad

was talking in the hs8c discord a8out whether this would 8e heroic or not. someone 8rought up that it could 8e just 8ecause of jades homewrecking which yeah i 8elieve. also the w8y she was trying to manipul8 the narrative could 8e seen as just. sad day for me i wanted candy jade and ult dirk to talk theyre 8oth so thematically simil8r

the sweat is interesting. does she know jade is dead? pro8a8ly. does she regret it?

may8e. most likely not

another 8anger as usual i love hs8cs artstyle

this shot is pretty interesting to me. is that the 8ell tower where dirk died? why is it glowing white? is cave the point under it too or is the 8attermaid using it as a vessel for the 8eam? lots of thoughts

yiffy and tavvy are not dead that's all i know for sure. they would not die they're too important

i really thought the flash would end act 1 8ut this is cool as fuck too

W8?????

these fucking pages loaded l8 for me oh my god. hs union you rascals

gavageCunctation [GC] began negging adamantGriftress [AG] 801 MINUTES AGO.

ayyyy its a deltrit8n. delta detritus hey did you know detritus means trash 8ecause for the longest time i didnt and now i feel stupid

801 minutes = 13 something hours. that's many imo 8ut you do you hs8c

this guy's really interesting. i think the delta kids (petition to call them that) are going to 8e 8ased on 2020s internet tropes. gc seems to 8e 8ased on a tum8lr user of some sort.

GC: if i'm being honest we cooked hard with this GC: haha... tag that shit i'm fussing... GC: AA (that's oomf)

my proof for the a8ove st8ment 8ut also this reads like a millenial desper8ly trying to speak like a gen z/alpha kid (which i guess it is). i cant tell whether "i'm fussing" is aave or not

i'm curious though how did they get vrissys handle?

gavageCunctation's [GC'S] computer exploded.

L + r8io

gc defo has a crush on vrissy which is funny as fuck to me. go girl 8r8k up with your technically uncle gc is right there!!! you can do 8etter!!!

aa seems interesting i get the feeling they're pro8a8ly in contact with ultrose or at least that sort of rose-rezi stand in of the session due to how it seems like they have some sort of seer a8ilities

GC: um anyway she's like an oracle... GC: except she's not an oracle. GC: she's some other shit...

you guys get what i mean? oh aa could 8e like jade too as in they could 8e awake on prospit and thats why they know all this stuff

GC: yet i still stay up to my buccal mass

a sea species so this is one of roses delta kids neat

ok done for now 8ye

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He's tasked to find Frankie's, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, NSFW, Smut,Fluff, shameless flirting, sexual tension, MMF dynamics, MM flirting, oral (f) receiving, unprotected piv, cream pie, aftercare

WC-5.9k

A/N- I’m sorry I made you guys wait so long for this but I promise it was worth it. We just have a few chapters left before I say goodbye to these three and I’m glad they finally figured it out.

[Main Masterlist][Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VI

“I know you’ve explained it already but repeat it back to me.” You bite your fingernails as you pace in front of the couch. 

  “Honey I can explain it to you a thousand times, you’re still going to have to hear it from them.” Alicia says after her attempt at calming you down. The story Santi told her sounded so far-fetched you didn’t believe it at first and then you needed to hear it again to be sure.  

  “I just find it hard to believe they would go through such great lengths for me.” You narrowly miss the pillow she throws at your head from her spot on the couch. 

  “I told you about talking down on yourself.” She points a finger at you. “You’re a fucking catch and you have the upper hand so talk to them and see where it goes.” 

  ****

  It sounds easy enough but you weren’t even sure where to begin. You’re just glad your current predicament didn’t seem to be affecting Alicia and Santiago’s relationship. You loved seeing her so happy and told her not to worry about you. You had plenty of time to think since you spent most nights alone while he whisked her off on dates. 

  You were taking your sweet time responding to Dave and Frankie wanting them to squirm a little after what they put you through. You did appreciate their persistence. The daily good morning texts even with no response from you. Flowers overflowing your apartment and the record store. Your boss had stopped by on a rare occasion and raved about how you’d been decorating the place. You wanted to turn down the money he left knowing how expensive flowers were and you didn’t have it in you to even begin to explain where they all came from. 

  After a week and a half they were slowly wearing you down. Frankie sent you his attempt at a selfie while he was in the helicopter in his aviators. He cut off half his face but it still had you weak in the knees. 

  Frankie: image 

  Frankie: just in case you forgot what i look like 

  You wanted to respond so badly but you opted to just like the photo. 

  Dave:image 

  Dave: thinking of you 

  The extreme close up of the hummingbird practically brought tears to your eyes, but that could also be your hormones. You can see the vibrant colors on its back and the blur of its wings as it feeds from a petunia in the park. 

  It was inevitable that you were going to cave, but you wanted it to be on your terms. Over the course of the next week you spoke to both of them separately. You called them and heard both of their stories…the truth this time. As bizarre as the whole thing sounded you were relieved when their explanation matched up and you could tell they were being genuine. You’ve never heard two men apologize so much in your life. 

  Dave had to return home for a few days and Frankie was busy with work so you decided to meet at the end of the week to all talk in person about what you were going to do going forward. 

  ****

  “You’re gonna be late if you keep fussing with it.” Alicia says perched on your dresser as you fidget with the little black dress she let you borrow. As uncomfortable as it was in the beginning, wearing her clothes always brought out another side of you. 

  “I’m just taking a page out of your book.” You point at her in the mirror. “Fashionably late…plus I want them to squirm a little.” 

  She stares at you with an incredulous look on her face. “What have I done to you?” 

  In all honesty she’s given you a boost of confidence that you sorely needed over the years of your friendship. You’ve learned to ask for the things you want and not take no for an answer. You’d spent years being told you weren’t good enough or didn’t fit the part by your step mom and your ex and ultimately the rejection from your dad had you really believing those things were true. 

  Anyone else may have grown tired of constantly reminding you that you deserve to take up space. She never did and would be there every step of the way to prove it to you time and time again. 

  You suppose that’s why she’s such a good fit for Santi. He needed someone to be his match, to challenge him when no one else would. To show him what it was like to laugh again and enjoy the little things. 

  You put the finishing touches on your makeup as she hops down from the dresser. “You call me either way.”

  “Of course.” You wave your phone in front of her face as she crosses her arms. 

  “Just know I’m extremely jealous of you right now.” She trails behind you as you make your way to the front door a little wobbly in your heels. 

  “Nothing to be jealous of…this could all crash and burn in my face.” A sudden wave of fear waves over you at the prospect but you shove that down. 

  “I highly doubt that hon.” She spins you once and places a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She’s leaning precariously in the doorway as you step out into the hallway. 

  “Would you do this?” You ask sheepishly. 

  “In a heartbeat.” The door shuts in your face and you’re left in the quiet. Only the sound of your heels clicking on the ground echo as you head to the elevator. 

  ****

  “If you’re gonna keep fussing with your tie you might as well not wear one.” Dave says as Frankie pulls uncomfortably at the collar of his dress shirt. 

  They’re sitting in the lounge where you all agreed to meet to discuss things and Frankie hasn’t been this nervous since his pilots exam. Dave is the picture of calm as he relaxes back in the blue crushed velvet seat. 

  “Where am I gonna put it?” Frankie aggressively rips the tie from his neck. 

  “Put it in your pocket or something.” Dave bites out as he leans forward to take a sip of his drink. 

  The two of them probably look ridiculous sitting here bickering. It’s been an uncomfortable few minutes since they finished their conversation about how the night could go. 

  Frankie was preparing for you to tell him that you would need to think things over for awhile since they lied to you initially and he didn’t come to you genuinely and say who he was from the beginning. 

  Dave was prepared for you to tell him that you were obviously going to choose your soulmate and that he was a creep for leading you on and basically stalking you in the process. He seems calm on the outside but inside he’s cursing the thought of returning to his lonely life of helping others find what he so desperately missed. 

  Frankie leans forward as he glances at his watch. “We said seven right? It’s been a little while.” He wrings his hands together nervously. “What if she doesn’t show?” 

  Dave swirls the glass in his hand as he looks over at Frankie. “Relax…she’ll be here.” 

  They both turn their heads as the sound of heels on marble floors sound in the room. 

  ****

  It’s serendipitous walking into the hotel lounge where weeks ago you and Alicia tried and failed at finding love. The very same lounge where you both decided that this was it and you were probably going to end up marrying each other and riding off into the sunset. 

  You see them before they see you. 

  Dave is sitting back in the chair, legs spread wide with a glass of amber liquid twirling in his hand. He’s wearing a fitted black suit with his hair combed back. Frankie looks about as nervous as you feel as he leans forward muttering something to Dave. You can’t hear his reply but he looks unbothered. He’s ditched his signature cap and his loose brown curls are styled somewhat to frame his face. He’s got on black slacks and his white dress shirt is unbuttoned a little so you can see a sliver of his tan chest peeking out. If you were a weaker woman you’d forgo any conversation and ask for Dave’s room key right now. 

  It’s the click.click.click of your heels that brings their attention to you as you approach the table. 

  ****

  “Holy shit.” Dave speaks first and for all his practiced effort to keep it cool his resolve quickly crumbles as he sees you approach wearing  something entirely not you but such a welcome surprise. 

  He would tell Frankie to close his mouth if his wasn’t hanging agape at the short silk, black dress. The barely there straps that he could break with his teeth and the front plunging low enough to see your sternum. 

  You’re standing there expectantly and he quickly realizes neither have them have spoken a word since you waltzed up to them. 

  Just as Frankie is about to speak a waiter appears at your side. “Excuse me miss, would you like something to drink?” His eyes linger over you a second too long Dave’s nostrils flare in annoyance. 

  “Gin and tonic with lime please.” You say politely as you sit in the open seat in front of them. Doing your best to cross your ankles to not give them a view you’re not ready for. The dress rides up your thighs as you sit on the soft velvet seat and Frankie’s eyes flit briefly to them as he clears his throat and adjusts in his seat. 

  You’ve barely said a word and you’ve got both men wrapped around your finger. You’re completely unaware of the predicament you’ve been in since your little stunt at the country bar and this is only making it worse. 

  “So I suppose you both have some things to say before I tell you my thoughts.” There’s a slight air of confidence to your tone as you survey both men. 

  Frankie glances at Dave before clearing his throat. “Listen, I'm sure you’re sick of hearing our apologies.” You nod once before letting him continue. “I still have to say I’m sorry for lying to you. I wrongly assumed you would just toss Dave aside.” 

  “Thanks.” Dave responds dryly and you have to suppress your laugh. It’s obvious they’ve formed some sort of connection that hopefully plays into your favor. 

  The waiter returns with your drink trying to gauge whatever interaction is playing out in front of him. You all awkwardly wait until he’s out of ear shot to continue. 

  “Anyways…everything else I told you was the truth. Including the fact that I think I’m falling in love with you.” The last part is rushed out as your eyes go wide. A small part of you thought you might be moving too fast, but the feelings you were developing for both of them were hard to deny. 

  Frankie wishes the floor would swallow him up whole right now. His practiced speech went out the window when he saw you walk in the room. 

  You take a sip of your drink and direct your attention to Dave. 

  “I don’t regret what I did.” Dave states matter of factly as Frankie brings his head up from staring at the floor. Of all the things you expected him to say it certainly wasn’t that. “If I could do it all over again the only thing I would do differently is tell you who I was as soon as Frankie met you.” His voice is low as he leans in a little closer. “Even if you never want to speak to me again, I’m glad I did all those things for you and I never lied when I said I care about you a lot. So much that it scares me.” 

  You finish the rest of your drink and sit back in your seat. This is really starting to feel like an episode of the bachelor and if they don’t accept your proposal you suppose more than one person is going to get hurt. 

  “Well…” You fidget with your hands momentarily as your voice shakes a little. “I appreciate your honesty…even if it’s a little late. I’m relieved to know that you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.” 

  Frankie feels like he can breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t just make a complete fool of himself. 

  “I’m not choosing.” You say with finality and Dave raises an eyebrow at you from across the table. “I don’t think I should have to after what you two put me through. So if you want out, now is your chance.” 

  ****

  You’re all three or four drinks deep, now the only ones in the hotel lounge. You’ve been swapping horrible dating stories and they’ve been swapping some more classified stories that you don’t care to remember for fear of your personal safety. These two unassuming and charming men have seen some things in their lifetime that you would never have imagined. It’s thrilling in a way to know how dangerous they are but when it comes to you they’re inculpable. 

  Neither one budged when you told them you weren’t going to choose and now that you’re sitting here a little more comfortable sharing the loveseat with Frankie as Dave relaxes back in the chair next to you it almost seems like this is how it was supposed to be. 

  Frankie’s strong hands rub small circles along the exposed part of your thigh. “So he calls you hummingbird?” 

  “That was our secret.” You say playfully to Dave as he brushes his fingers along your knuckles. 

  “Well, you share the tattoo with Francisco so I figured I should tell him.” He turns your hand over in his tracing the lines of the tattoo on your wrist. 

  “You don’t have to call me Francisco.” Frankie’s breath is hot on your neck as he’s moved a little closer to you. 

  “What if I want to?” Dave’s voice is anything but innocent as you watch a moment pass between him and Frankie. 

  This could work. 

  Frankie leans in whispering something as his lips brush your ear. He has to resist biting it as he sees the goosebumps raise on your skin at the close contact. Something in the air has shifted throughout the night and he’s done trying to overthink it. 

  “Who’s telling secrets now.” Dave grabs your foot that was trailing up his leg, your heels have been long discarded. His hands start to kneed and rub and you have to stifle a moan at how good it feels. 

  “I was just telling her what hummingbird means in Spanish…so we can have our own little name.” Frankie’s feeling bold as he kisses your neck. “Isn’t that right?” 

  You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the sensation of both of their hands on you but a pleasant buzz is running through your body. 

  A throat clears behind you and you lean your head back against Frankie as you lock eyes with the waiter. He looks a little annoyed but straightens up Dave and Frankie put their attention on him. 

  “The lounge is closing for the night so-“

  “Charge it to my room please. Dave York, Capri Penthouse suite.” Dave cuts him off and he’s gone before he could finish his sentence. 

  It’s quiet for a moment as you wait to see who’s going to speak first. You definitely don’t want the night to end yet but you have no idea where their heads are at. You exhale and look them dead in the eyes before you lose the courage to say what you’ve been wanting since they both walked into your lives. 

“I want you both.” They nod at each other but you’re certain they don’t interpret your true meaning. 

“We’re yours.” Dave says genuinely as he looks at Frankie. 

“Tonight.” It’s not a question, more of a statement as they both look at you wide eyed. Frankie tenses behind you and Dave’s shocked expression has you a little worried. It’s bold and so unlike you, you’re sick of doing the predictable thing. You want them and they clearly want you so these are your terms. 

Dave slides forward in his chair. “You’ve been drinking…” he whispers as if you’re not the only ones left in the lounge. “We don’t want to take advantage.” He emphasizes we….assuming Frankie feels the same and he nods at him. 

“We’ve all been drinking… and I made up my mind last night.” You gather your purse in your hand and start to stand. “Unless you don’t want to and we can discuss this at a later…”

“No.” “No.” You have to chuckle at their sudden enthusiasm. 

Frankie’s mind already starts to wander to all the things they could do to you. Things they could show you. All the ways he could make you come apart. Two hands are better than one and four hands….

It’s a little shocking to Dave that this scenario had never crossed his mind but it’s clear neither of them were about to let this opportunity pass them by, if even for one night. 

“I’ll give you two a moment to talk, I need to make a phone call.” You walk just out of ear shot to call Alicia who is no doubt picking up on the first ring.

****

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” You can hear her sigh and probably shaking her head on the other end of the line. 

“Clothes!…that’s what you’re worried about right now? I will bring you a change of clothes in the morning if you manage to pull this off.” 

You’re standing at the edge of the lounge door, not wanting to turn around and see whatever heated conversation could be going on behind you. 

“I’m mostly stalling, and mentally preparing myself to call a ride home in case they think this is crazy.” This is crazy right, how was this the next logical step in your brain. It all sounded right bouncing around in your head throughout the week and now your nerves seem to be getting the best of you. 

“Deep breaths…I doubt anyone with two eyes would turn down and offer like this.” Alicia mumbles something incoherent on the other end but you can take a guess as to what she may have said. 

You duck your head as some loud guests enter the lobby heading back to their room after a night on the town. You don’t know why you’re shying away, it’s not as if they could possibly know what’s going on behind you. 

****

“You said this would go one of two ways.” Frankie says as he fidgets with the label on his empty beer. 

“I know what I said…it’s just of course I didn’t expect…do you not want-“ Dave’s brief moment of clarity cuts through the sexual tension. Not even realizing what he’s asking of Frankie who’s already given up so much. 

“No, of course I want this.” His voice is sure and it’s the first time he actually says out loud the thing he’s been thinking since that first day in the coffee shop when he met Dave. Nothing in his wildest dreams would’ve imagined him here in this exact scenario. 

They’re both quiet for a moment, a little hesitant after admitting something that most men wouldn’t be brave enough to counter. It feels like that moment when you’re lucid and you don’t want to wake up because the dream is just too good. The lights in the lounge are perfectly dim casting a shadow along the walls. You’re standing there against the doorway, looking adorable and exposed in your shirt black dress and your heels haphazardly buckled because you didn’t want to walk barefoot away from the proposition you just dropped in their waiting laps. 

“Have you ever?” Dave asks timidly no ridicule evident in his tone. 

“Yes, but I didn’t care about them this way.” Once or twice when he was stationed overseas because Pope wrangled him into it, long before he was married. “I doubt she ever has.” 

Dave surveys you for a moment as you chance a look over your shoulder. “There’s no need to rush this, if this isn’t going to be the only time. I think it’s fair if you take the lead.” 

Frankie should be nervous or anxious at the prospect of your first time together being watched by Dave. There’s something else drumming below the surface as his voyeuristic tendencies start to rear  their head. Frankie adjusts himself trying to hide his excitement as Dave’s eyes linger too long on him. 

****

You’re glad you walked away to give you and them a moment to collect yourselves. You didn’t want to be present for any uncomfortable conversation if either of them decided this was just too much.

You can see it in their eyes as you approach, it’s clear what decision they’ve made. 

“So boys…are we doing this?” 

Frankie stands and takes your hand in his as Dave slides the room key out of his pocket. “Baby…we’re all yours.”

****

“You wore this to talk?” Dave’s fingers lift the strap of your lace bra as he slides down, brushing his thumb across your nipple through the soft fabric. 

“What can I say? I like to be prepared.” You bite your lip as small goosebumps raise across your skin. 

Frankie has to shake his head at the sentiment. The act you put on is not as innocent as he previously thought. Maybe your friend gave you a little push in the right direction. 

He’ll have to thank her later when she doesn’t want to kill him. 

Both of them standing in front of you, patiently waiting for your next move has you feeling a little exposed. 

Dave can sense some hesitation from you, you’re staring anywhere but at them as your hand covers your stomach. 

His hand cups your face, as he brushes his thumb across your jaw. “We don’t have to do this hummingbird.” You can see it in his eyes, how deeply he cares for you in that moment. 

“No, I want to…it’s just. I’ve never done this before.” You gesture between the two men and laugh a little. 

They both hold such serious faces then, not wanting to make a joke of your vulnerability. You are opening this part of yourself to both of them. 

Dave leans in, his lips brushing yours as you melt into the kiss. He turns your jaw slightly and Frankie is at your side, his large palm replacing yours across your stomach and then caressing your hip. 

His forehead meets yours for a moment, just breathing you in before he dives in for a kiss.  It’s like shockwaves whenever you touch him, the feeling skates down your spine into your toes and you’re leaning into his touch. 

Dave presses you impossibly closer, the growing bulge in his pants pressed against your back and the added pressure of his hand kneading your breast. You reach your hand back, reveling in the way Dave moans into your ear as you palm his cock through his jeans. The other hand tangled in Frankie’s hair as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“We’re gonna take real good care of you baby, aren’t we Dave?” His breath ghosts over your lips in a whisper. 

Dave just hums in response, he’s letting Frankie take the control. He wants him to have this with you. He’s already been given the world, now's not the time to get greedy. 

“Lay down on the bed.” Frankie hooks his finger around you, making quick work of your bra before he lets you go. 

You haven’t been this exposed for anyone since your ex and he used to look at you in disgust, all the tattoos that weren’t his. 

They’re staring at you now like a painting in a museum. It almost takes your breath away at the thought of him finally seeing his artwork adorned on the body meant solely for him. 

“Jesus…you’re beautiful.” Frankie half whispers to himself as you sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing to their clothes. 

They almost mirror each other as they strip their dress shirts and slacks. You’re practically salivating at the two of them stripped down to their matching black boxers and tan bodies. Dave looks over to Frankie and whistles and you can see the red flush creep up his neck. It’s a relief to know you weren’t the only one this nervous. 

Frankie nods his head and Dave takes the spot behind you against the pillows. He crooks a finger at you to join him and you crawl over settling in the spot between his legs. You lay your body back against him and you can feel his hard cock through his boxers as he adjusts to get you more comfortable. 

“We’ll go slow…this time.” Frankie says as he crawls on the bed, fitting his broad shoulders between your legs. His fingers hook into the lace of your panties as he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes are dark as he sets them on his prize and you swear you see him lick his lips. 

Your ex would go down on you occasionally but you could tell he was unsure of himself and so you never really could enjoy it. 

Frankie takes his time as he kisses at your stomach and nips at your thigh. Dave’s strong hands knead your breast and you giggle a little as he whispers in your ear that he knows you’re ticklish. The laughter dies in your throat as Frankie licks a stripe through your slit. His groan reverberates through you as you let out a soft whimper. Your senses are on overdrive as Dave’s hands work your body and Frankie’s mouth devours you whole. 

Frankie doesn’t care that he has to share with the way you’re looking at him and the sweet noises you’re making he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. You cry out his name as your hands tug on his curls. He’ll do anything to have you say his name a thousand times over while his face is buried between your thighs. “Fuck…Frankie I’m gonna come.” You pant out between breaths. 

“Come for me hermosa, I want to hear you.” He dips two fingers into your pussy as his tongue works circles around your clit. 

Dave’s not sure how he thought tonight would go. He hoped you would forgive them both and maybe find a way for everyone to get what they want. He didn’t expect to have you splayed out in front of him while Frankie takes you apart. 

He’s always thought himself confident in the bedroom but he may have to ask Frankie what exactly he’s doing to elicit these noises. His cock twitches at every moan and whimper as you squirm against him. 

You arch your back into him and whine, he can tell you’re close the way your whole body shakes. 

“I’ve got you baby, you can let go.”

It has to be Dave in your ear because Frankie hasn’t come up for air. You can feel the coil tighten inside as your fingers grip his hair. He growls as you pull him closer. 

He’s missed this feeling, the craving for someone so bad you can feel it in your gut. 

He can taste it on his tongue, the moment you break and cry out his name. Your voice is hoarse and he’s barely had his fill of you. 

He looks up from between your thighs and locks eyes with Dave. Your chest is heaving as he holds you close trying to calm your breathing. there isn’t an ounce of regret in the way he’s looking at you both. Like this is exactly what’s been missing from his life. 

Frankie rubs his hands down your body, slowly bringing you back to him. He kisses that crease of soft skin before he raises up and captures your lips in his, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Don’t you taste so good?” He rasps against your lips. 

“Mhm.” Is all you can manage as Frankie squeezes your thigh, dimpling your skin between his fingers. 

“I think Dave wants a taste.” Frankie nudges you back as Dave moves down beside you. 

You can feel Frankie take the spot on the other side as Dave takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Gently holding you there while you catch your breath. When he presses his lips to yours it’s softer than you would imagine. The hard set line of his jaw and his intense stare don’t let on to the tender touch of his hand. 

His hand drifts from your chin to cup the back of your head further deepening the kiss as you both moan at the sensation. He’s achingly hard against your stomach as he rolls his hips into you, pulling you impossibly closer. 

You reach down and palm him through his boxers but he carefully grabs your hand pulling it up to his lips, placing a kiss to your palm. “Not tonight hummingbird.” You tense up at the slight rejection but he’s quick to assure you. “You’ve already made me the happiest man alive, I can be patient and wait my turn.” He looks over your shoulder to Frankie with some unspoken words as they effortlessly roll you to face him. 

Frankie’s hair is a wild mess as you reach over and run your fingers through it. “Sorry about this.” 

Dave laughs as he presses his lips to your shoulder. “I don’t know, I kinda like it.” 

If there was a competition on who could make Frankie blush, Dave would be winning by a landslide. 

Frankie suddenly looks a little shy. “We can stop now, if you want too.” 

“No Frankie…I need you.” You surge forward and kiss him as you feel two fingers dip into your entrance. A small gasp leaves your lips as Dave works your open. Frankie’s pulling his boxers down in one swift movement as you try not to balk at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m gonna go slow okay?” His breath fans across your face as you nod. Dave groans behind you as he pulls his fingers out dragging them slowly up and circling your clit. You whine and drop your head back on his shoulder as he lifts your leg over Frankie’s hip. 

You only let the two of them talk briefly about tonight and yet it’s like they’ve mapped it out for weeks. They have the blueprint to your body’s every need and they work together like they’ve studied you for years. You’re not afraid to call it what it is anymore…it feels even more than love to you the way you all fit within each other. Dave at your back and Frankie at your front, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. 

Frankie reaches between you to grip his cock, sliding the tip between your lips as you shudder. He pushes in slowly, experimentally rolling his hips as you grip his shoulders. Dave is nearly silent behind you as he places his hand along your abdomen, feeling the way you breathe. You grit your teeth at the slight pain that gives way to pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt. You wait there a moment, your foreheads pressed together as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Frankie please…” A stray tear rolls down your face as the sensation takes over your body. The feeling of Frankie’s cock inside you has you clenching around him.

“Fuck me…” Frankie hisses and Dave has to chuckle at the sentiment of you fucking him. “You’re so tight baby.” 

Frankie starts a slow agonizing pace and you can feel every ridge and vein as he drags his cock in and out, his eyes flit down to where you’re connected so he can watch the way your pussy takes him so well. He’s not going to last the way you feel right now and the way Dave’s looking at him. You bury your head into his neck, crying out his name as he picks up the pace, his grip tightens on your hips as Dave squeezes your stomach making Frankie jerk his head up to him. 

He can feel him and he knows it, your legs pull him in further as you match his thrusts and he finally locks eyes with Dave. He can see it in his eyes and he hopes he’s not wrong as Frankie leans in kissing him feverishly. He’s dizzy with the scent of you and Dave on his tongue. 

“Oh fuck Frankie.” You’re shaking as you whine into his neck. 

“You gonna come for me?” Dave’s voice cuts through the moans and sharp breaths and Frankie doesn’t know who he means but he’s dangerously close. 

Dave’s hand trails down from your stomach to rub your clit, his hand is pressed between your bodies and Frankie bites down on his lip to keep from coming right then, he wants to wait for you. He has too. 

It’s delirium having them all over you, inside you. You open your mouth as a silent scream leaves it, Frankie’s lips are on yours breathing it in as you come apart in his arms. You can feel his hips stuttering as Dave grips his arm. “Mierda, díme.” 

“English Francisco.” Dave grits out behind you. 

“Come inside me please…” Frankie groans as he pulses hot ropes of cum inside your pussy as you flutter with the aftershocks. You can feel a warm wet spot on your back as you cling to Frankie, his cock still pulsing inside you as you whimper at the overstimulation. 

It takes you all a minute to come down from your high and Dave rolls out of the king size bed to the en-suite bathroom. Frankie’s kissing your sweat soaked forehead as you rub circles on his back, still tangled up in him. 

“Okay lovebirds, I need to clean you up.” Dave says as he dips onto the side of the bed, wiping your back carefully with a warm washcloth. You glance at him over your shoulder as he blushes. “Not a word.” You laugh and mock zipping your lips. 

There’s a moment after he’s done where you’re unsure where to go from here. You can tell Frankie feels the same as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

Dave clears his throat as he takes his spot on the other side of you. “Generally speaking people sleep under the covers.” He pulls them back as you and Frankie deflate, his relieved smile etched across his face. It feels right between them, maybe a little hot at the moment but you know it’s where you’re supposed to be. 

You nestle in between the two of them as your eyes start to drift off to sleep. 

“Hermosa?” Frankie’s sleepy voice sounds from behind you. “You speak Spanish?” 

“In a pinch.” 

Dave snorts into the pillow as you both burst out into laughter. Ya this feels right

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

Babe pls if u listen to cute music like serani poji you wont be depressed pls i can change könig ALL THID PAIN IS NOT WORTH IT!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I am manipulating u)

okay but cleaning königs wounds after a rough mission, making engels tea less sweet because he knows she doesn't like too sweet thingies, stealing he underwear, have matching bracelets with her, torturing her with his horrible dad jokes, wearing her t shirts (his body convulsed bcs hes too big), he slipped and she hollered to the ground laughing, stealing her underwear (angst begone!!!!!!!!)

I'm telling you I'm so easy to manipulate

Cleaning his wounds? He would have a hard on in a second. Sorry, this was supposed to be fluff, but he would. He would be so proud and pleased if reader sank to her knees to check a wound on his thigh or hovered over him while he's sitting to clean a scratch or a scrape on his arm. If he came straight to her from a medic with a more serious injury, and reader would fuss over his health, force him to stay in bed while she treats him like a KING, he would be purring silently under that mask. (Finally, someone takes care of him ❤️) He might not be fit to make love to reader, but she could always take him in her pretty little mouth? Just to give him a warrior's welcome ease his pain.

And taking her underwear from the laundry bin again? He should be ashamed. But surprise, surprise… he's not. He never treats himself to them in front of Engel, though. Knows he would only get shocked, mousy looks. He brings them to his nose only when he's alone, to drive the smell of dry dust and acrid smoke and gunpowder and man-sweat from his system. Breathing her is like breathing the sun and honey and all things good. He's invigorated like he just downed a pint of pilsner.

The matching bracelets were her idea, and he allowed her to put it on his wrist – it looked colorful and funny, standing out against his black shirt and army olive greens, and it sort of itched and pricked, a new item that it was, pressing against his skin. But every time he looks at it he remembers her and all her cute jokes and silly little monologues. The other operators look at the new addition with their noses wrinkled and turned up. Thinking it's one of his oddities again... He doesn't give a fuck because they're stupid – they don't know it's an entire blessing he has received from his angel. That bracelet basically makes him invincible on the battlefield.

And of course he learns to prepare her tea just right in a manner of days. (It's a bit scary, how well he remembers every little detail about what she likes to eat, drink, wear, read, listen to...)

His dad jokes… Holy fuck. He tells her he was stopped at the airport for control and they asked about his occupation. He answered he's only here for work. ;( ((I can't do this lol))

Making him wear her t-shirt because surely it would look cute and funny? It nearly tears at the side seam, gets stuck in his huge head as if it was his mask now. The t-shirt is ruined by the time he forces his arms through, that little piece of clothing simply can't take those shoulders. He looks at her with a sigh – great, now it's ruined, and he looks even more stupid. What did she expect? Is this what she really wanted? Oh, she's laughing so much she bends over and has tears in her eyes. He feels warm and fuzzy, too. Perhaps it was worth it after all to entertain her like this. 💕 (But most of all he loves when she wears his shirts: she looks so small and cute inside them. Like a little pet... Not to talk of how the clothing smells after: the sweet scent of her caught on his tactical wear is yet another distraction when he's supposed to go to work.)

[tealfling]

A/N: It’s the first day of winter break and I’m sick (hope it’s not that flu that’s going around).

Let’s do that sick character trope everyone likes. Let’s go with Amaranth bc she’s still my favorite girl and bc she’s a cleric. Kinda proof read.

Probably going to strain canon a little bit, maybe bring in some more DnD concepts. Idk.

Astarion x Amaranth (named f!Tav), references to previous sexual encounters, but not smut 18+

S: Amaranth gets a little spell sick from a flower, Astarion fusses over her, and keeps her company until she feels better.

Unwell

It got worse so fast. Amaranth thought to herself. It hurt to think. There's an invisible pressure in her skull. Like her head was held in an ogre's grip and he means to crush her. Amaranth was lugged onto Wyll's back. It was so hard to focus. She couldn't make out their words. Her throat hurt. It was so dry. It pricked. Every attempt to speak failed. Her chest was heavy and her breathing labored. I just want to lie down.

The sun hung low preparing to set as Wyll's call cut through camp. Shadowheart. Not a good sign if the party enters camp calling for a cleric. Wonder who's hurt. Astarion thought amused. But then he remembered the other group cleric should be with him.

"A little help here!" Karlach's voice calls. Not a good sign at all.

Gale and Shadowheart were the first to meet the party. Astarion was in his tent finishing washing up after his supper. He flung the bloody rag in the wash basin and pulled on a fresh shirt.

"What in the hells happened to her?!" Gale exclaimed upon seeing Amaranth. The tiefling's normal deep amethyst color was so paled she was almost lilac. She was limply laid over Wyll, her tail nearly dragging the ground. Dark circles hung from her eyes.

"I'm not sure. She seemed fine, then suddenly she had trouble talking, and then this." Wyll shrugged.

Shadowheart lifted the back of her hand to the tiefling's cheek.

Amaranth whimpered in relief. "C-cold." Her word broke in her dry, raspy throat while she leaned into the half-elf 's delicate hand.

"Lady of Sorrows guide us. She's burning up. Almost as much as Karlach," Shadowheart stated, placing her other hand on Amaranth's face. Radiant light filled the raven haired woman's eyes and her hand glowed warm with healing magic. But the purple tiefling didn't respond. "It didn't take," whispered Shadowheart.

When Astarion had exited his tent, he had every intention of teasing whichever new found friend was foolish enough to get injured on what should have been a rather easy mission. Wyll, Karlach, and Lae'zel were all a little bloody. He could smell their dry crusted blood from his tent. What he didn't understand was why Wyll had a pale purple tiefling draped on his back. The pit of Astarion's stomach twisted. He couldn't smell a fresh wound from her, but she wasn't moving. Why was she so still?

"What's going on?! What's happened!? What's wrong with her!?!" He demanded storming toward the group.

In her feverish daze, Amaranth locked onto his voice, even if he was only a white blurry glow.

"Not to sound- ungentlemanly- but could someone else take her? She's a bit heavy," Wyll whispered.

Amaranth mustered all her strength to push off of the warlock's back, attempting to mutter apologies for her weight as she tried to slide off him. Her balance was completely off when she freed herself and she swayed wildly.

"Pay no mind to him, he can hardly lift his own blade," Astarion hissed at Wyll as he deftly grabbed Amaranth by the arm and pulled her into him. Gods. Her skin was so hot it surprised him that his own flesh didn't sizzle. "What's going on with her?!" He barked again, petting the back of her hair and caressing a hand on the back of her neck while she leaned into him. He cupped her feverish cheeks in his hands looking her over. She looked positively ill. He returned his hands to her neck and forehead in some pathetic attempt to cool her down.

Amaranth hummed in relief. Astarion's body was always perfectly cold. When the hand on her neck slid up to her forehead it felt the pressure in her skull ease. She lifted her face to him. There was a weak smile on her lips and her gaze seemed hazy, unfocused. She gripped Astarion shirt with one hand for balance as she used the other to rummage in the dagger pouch on her hip. Astarion was supporting all of her weight when she pulled out a blue dagger. She flinched. It was quick, almost missable. "I made this for you." Her voice was hoarse and broken, not its usual canter. He lightly pried it from her fingers.

"Oh," he paused, unsure of what to say. He really didn't need another dagger and currently was more interested in whatever ailed her. "Thank you, Darling."

"May I see that?" Gale asked with an outstretched hand.

The vampire eyed the wizard narrowly, "She just handed me this gift and you already want to eat it? I think not. It's mine."

"For Mystra's sake. I'm not some carnival sword swallower, I don't want to consume your new dagger. I just want to inspect it. Something doesn't seem right." Gale said exasperated.

"Ugh, fine." Astarion dexterously flipped the blade in hand offering the handle to Gale.

"Thank you," Gale said, grabbing the dagger in hand. He immediately winced in pain with an ah and let it fall to the ground.

Astarion protectively pulled Amaranth into him further, turning her away from the dagger. It hadn't been painful when he held it.

Gale looked at Wyll, "Where did you say you went today?" The wizard rubbed his aching fingers.

Wyll explained the teleporting to and from the Underdark, and how their leader had figured out how to use the forge at the Blighted Village.

"That certainly explains things," said Gale stepping back from the dagger further. He continued, "Sussur Trees are known for their anti-magic fields. The blooms will leech magic from mages and silence their ability to cast. Did you not feel its effects, Wyll?"

"I never went near the tree. There were Hooked Horrors surrounding the tree that we fought off while she collected the bark."

Gale sighed, "Of course she did. Alone. Short term exposure to the tree or any part of it like blooms or bark are easily recovered from, just a temporary gap in casting. But it sounds like our leader carried the bark of tree then the dagger made of it's essence for sometime, essentially magically exsanguinating herself. So worry not Astarion, I'll have nothing more to do with that new dagger of yours. I hope its service in your capable hands proves worth the effect it took to obtain it though. As for Amaranth, no amount of healing magic will help her just now. Luckily for her, this ailment is akin to a flu or pneumonia. Rest and fluids are the key! She should be right as rain in a day or two. Best get her to bed."

The crew divvied up. Gale put himself on soup duty. Shadowheart took Amaranth to her tent to help her out her armor and wash her up. Astarion only relinquished the tiefling bc he felt like she'd be more comfortable with Shadowheart undressing her. Ripping off her clothes in lust was one thing, this was...a different kind of intimate. He wanted to do it, but he wasn't sure he was ready to unpack all the implications that would come from the act. Or if Amaranth would want him to do so.

Astarion instead got everything Shadowheart needed to prepare Amaranth for bed, then he gathered his new dagger from the ground. It was weighted well enough, with an interesting tree pattern, and a faint blue glow. Dangerous to magic casters, huh? She'd made this for him and made herself ill in the process. Why was she so damn stupid? That's why using her as a target was so easy. There's no way she had it that bad for him, surely. Astarion knew he was good, but not 'make one senseless and stupid' good. No, this was all her own foolish habit of people pleasing. Something she didn't have to go through such lengths for, certainly not for the likes of him. He decided to hide the damned thing in his tent for now, he couldn't look at it while she was so sickly.

He returned to Amarnath's tent, pacing outside until Shadowheart called him to get the water bowl to fetch fresh water. When he entered, Shadowheart had the other woman cleaned and wrapped in blankets on the bed roll. Amaranth for her part, was weakly trying to kick off her covers. He wasn't sure if her brow glistened from being washed or sweating, those extra quilts surely weren't helping.

Astarion tsked. "You know she hates that! That's far too many blankets," he fussed kneeling to adjust the bedding. "Don't wrap her so tightly. You need to leave room for air to circulate."

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. "Well, if you can do better, why don't you?"

"I can and I will. Your service is no longer needed," he snapped.

"Fine." Shadowheart flipped her ponytail and left the tent.

Amaranth shakily grasped Astarion's hand when it was within reach. "My Star?" She croaked.

He paused. Something squeezed in his chest before he responded as cheerfully as he could muster, "Yes, my pet? How can I help?" He brought his other hand to her cheek. She leaned into his cool palm, but her glassy eyes stayed in him. Each breath a struggle. Her skin was nearly uncomfortably warm. This was terrible. How could those idiots let this happen? They should have been paying more attention. He should have gone. If only he could make her better. Seeing her like this was.... distressing. Knowing no healing they had at their disposal would help was--awful.

Through unsteady breaths Amaranth said, "Can you h-hold me? I know you don't like to be t-touched and I-I hate to ask, but I just really want to snuggle with y-you." Her eyes watered a little and her voice cracked as she pleaded. "Your cold feels n-nice," she added, as if there needed to be some reasoning excuse for him.

Gods. That was heart wrenching. He was beginning to think he'd made a grave mistake. This woman would be the death of him. He'd chosen the wrong target. As true as her statement might be, she was also wrong. He craved her innocent soft touches. Time and again her tender caresses had shown him that she could melt him, break him down, and re-forge him into something new. He liked her touch, it's the fact that he wanted it so badly considering what he was doing to her that repulsed him. But she never touched him like anyone had before, in fact this was the first time she'd ever asked him for anything. Even then, the look in her eyes told him she'd already resigned herself to be denied. As he should, it would be the right thing to do. But Astarion wasn't known for being selfless, he liked when she allowed him to be selfish with her.

"Oh, my poor little sweet, how could I say no to you in this condition?" He purred. There was a flicker of joy in Amaranth's eyes as she smiled weakly, a glimpse of her normal brightness. That in itself had been worth it to Astarion. She feebly tried to gather and rearrange pillows, but Astarion was quick to move in and overtake the task. Her pillow collection had grown increasingly since his nighttime visits had become more frequent and prolonged. He could scoff at how she always accommodated other people (even him) over herself, it made him fluff a pillow a little too aggressively and Amaranth had noticed.

"Astar-?" She started worryingly.

"Shhh, my dear, you want to snuggle? Come closer," his said velvetly, snaking one arm under her neck while using the other to pull her close. He allowed her to adjust for a moment, somehow she found a way to bury a horn beside his neck so she could rest her cheek on his throat. Once that was settled she quickly tangled her other limbs amongst his, locking her legs over and under his, curling her tail around his calf. Karlach had said tieflings didn't like their tails messed with because they could be easily broken and they only touched their tails to their most trusted friends- or lovers. Astarion felt like his heart was in his throat. Amaranth trusted him, actually trusted him. He hoped her blind faith didn't come back to haunt them. She grabbed his hands, smacking one to her forehead with a delightful sigh. The other she laced her own behind his and placed his palm through her opened shirt on her chest, just below her throat. He could feel her heart, thumping, hard at work trying to gather the energy to heal. Astarion gently smiled, pressed his hand to her chest, and squeezed her fingers as if encouraging it to heal quicker.

He rested his chin on her head, taking in her minty scent, feeling her heart, listening to her breathing. Counting the moments until she finally settled into some form of sleep. Astarion felt so warm. And not just physically. This was a first. No one had ever asked this of him before. She had wanted this to comfort her, but it was oddly comforting to him as well. He unexpectedly, released a small kiss on her forehead and risked waking her by embracing her in closer. If only this moment could last forever.

Shadowheart threw open the tent flap. She halted, absorbing the scene before her to insure she was seeing correctly before commenting, "My, don't you look comfortable."

"Well, when our fearless leader requests a cooling touch, who am to deny her? It is an honor and a privilege to play 'personal icepack' for our incapacitated leader. At least someone gets to benefit from my undead chill," he said pompously, lounging back further. "And for my part, I get to relax on a bed of pillows- exempt from all camp chores, mind you- while lying under the most beautiful woman in Faerûn? Please. Of course I'm comfortable. I can't think of a place I'd rather be," Astarion boasted. "So don't think if asking to trade places."

Shadowheart rolled her eyes, "Well, then, here's fresh water, towel, and Gale says the soup is almost ready," she paused looking over the pale tiefling. "But I think we should just leave her be. She can eat after she rests."

"Of course she can! I'm not disturbing her for Gale to stroke his culinary ego." Astarion bit, quietly stroking at the back of the sleeping tiefling's sliver head. There was a slanted look from Shadowheart instead of a reply. Her eyes trailed down from Astarion stroking Amaranth's hair to the parts of their limbs exposed from the sheets where a purple tail tied around his ankle. "What?! What are you looking at?"

"Oh, nothing," Shadowheart hummed mischievously. "But you might want to be careful, Astarion, or people might get the impression you have a beating heart." She teased over her shoulder, exiting the tent. Gone before Astarion could find a free pillow to chuck at her.

Amaranth squirmed on Astarion's chest. "Hush, my sweet, go back to sleep." He shushed, gathering her close.

"You think I'm beautiful," she meekly questioned. He could feel her lip move over his throat, her warm breath ghosting over chest.

Shit. She was awake? It'd be easy enough to play off. "Of course, Darling. I'm a man of exquisite taste. Would I settle for anything less? You're pure perfection."

"You're the only person besides my father that's called me beautiful."

How depressing was that. What was he supposed to say? Every day he noticed something else about her to admire. He didn't know which god had sent her down, but they had definitely put in the work. "Then I suppose it's to my benefit that other people are blind. Your beauty is mine to relish in and I don't plan on sharing." Astarion huffed. He didn't really know what to say. He really did find her utterly, devastatingly gorgeous, but how was he supposed to explain it all. Doing so would only complicate things anyway. Either way, how could he just picking things about her that were wonderful? She was a better mirror than him. Oh. He lifted his finger to the tip of his ear, sure enough there was a wayward curl wrapped around it. This is her favorite one. He thought, twisting the curl around his finger. A fluttery feeling danced in his stomach. Shit. Her and her poetry.

"Do you like the dagger?" Thankfully her hoarse voice ripped him from the rabbit hole he was crawling into and broke him back.

"You mean the thing that drained you of your magic more grievously than I've ever drained you of your blood? Yes, let's talk about that," he sneered.

Amaranth pushed off his chest to face him. "You don't like it?" She sniffled.

"Oh no you don't! You put that pouty lip away right now, sweetheart." Astarion grabbed her shoulders to help keep her up right. He made an exasperated noise with his tongue when he saw her eyes water, "I never said I didn't like it. It looks like a very nice dagger and I'm sure I'll use it to violently end the lives of many wizards- while imagining they're Gale, of course, but Darling. Look at you." He grabbed her face. "Look at the state you put yourself in to get a dagger of all things. You're practically a shadow of your former glory. Luckily, Gale says you'll regain your magic, but who knows how long you'll be indisposed. It was an absolutely inane thing to do to mess with something you're unfamiliar with alone. Gods, it's hard enough with you triggering traps all the time, now I have to worry about you touching plants?" He grazed a hand over her head, her fever was coming down. Astarion grabbed Amaranth's water flask and held it to her lips.

"You worry about me triggering traps?" she asked before taking a sip. The first one went down smoothly so she braved a larger gulp.

That made her cough and Astarion pulled the flash away. "Darling, if you blow up in a trap, I will also, blow up in a trap, and I'd rather not. Honestly." He thumbed the remaining water from her lips and swept the silver hair from her face. "No, the lesson here, my love, is that I need you to be more selfish. You care too much about other people, and I need you to worry about yourself more."

"But I wanted you to have a new dagger. One isn't even enchanted and the other we found in a roast. When I saw the instructions for the forge contained a dagger, I just...thought of you," Amaranth fidgeted with her hair.

"And now I'm one dagger deadlier and you're missing your healing abilities that I've come to rely on so dearly when all the stabbing goes wrong. If you want to think of me, think like this: How can I keep my beautiful vampire companion alive?"

"But I'd thought it's pretty."

"It is pretty, but I don't see what that has anything to with this. Honestly, you don't normally worry about such things, that flower must have really done a number on you," Astarion said.

"I just wanted you to have it because I know you like pretty things," she replied softy.

"Yes, well, I could just grab you the next time I want a pretty thing to fi-," Astarion cut off his sentence with a cough.

Amaranth's eyes widened, wondering why Astarion cut off his sentence. His pinking ears confirming it would have been racy.

"Ahem," Astarion collected himself, "It seems like you're feeling a little better. If you're well enough to argue, you're well enough to eat." Astarion elegantly popped to his feet. "I'll fetch you dinner. Hope you're prepared for Gale's soup."

"I guess. You'll come back right?" Amaranth seemed worried.

Honestly, she was acting more clingy that normal. Astarion smiled, "Of course, Darling." It was a nice stroke to his ego. He tried not to dwell the other brain stroke he almost had.

Astarion went to grab her supper, but ended up arguing with Gale over his choice of tea. Amarnath doesn't care for tea so why bother preparing something if it's not the kind she likes?

Amaranth was sitting up when he entered her tent. He fussed as he tried to make sure she ate while the others kept popping in to check on her. Eventually, she tired, re-tangling herself around him as she drifted off to sleep. Astarion ran his fingers through her hair until he entered mediation.

In the morning, Amaranth popped up cheerfully planting an exaggerated kiss on Astarion's cheek.

"What was that for?" His groan obviously fake, as he stirred.

Amaranth planted another one closer to his ear, "Thank you."

"For what?" Astarion said propping himself on an elbow. Amaranth admired his disheveled look.

"For staying with me, obviously," she rolled her eyes. She lifted her hand. He brow pulled as she concentrated on something and a golden spark sputtered from her fingers, but nothing more happened. "Tank's not full yet I guess, but I feel it, it's there." She said softly. When she went to stand Astarion grabbed her arm.

"Where in the Nine Hells do you think you're going?" He snapped.

"Um, out?" Amaranth tilted her head and scrunched her face.

"Why?"

"Um, because we have a list of shit to do to free us of these parasites?" Amaranth tried to stand again.

Astarion pulled her back into bed, "You're not going anywhere until you can cast something. I don't often agree with listening to Gale, but here I must concur that you need bed rest until you're up to your normal capabilities. If that means another day in bed then so be it."

Amaranth pouted, then smiled, "Will you stay with me?"

"Why, so I can wait on you hand and foot again? Like some nursemaid?" Astarion said pointedly.

"Didn't you say you liked lying on my bed of pillows? Free from the burden of camp chores?" Amaranth wormed her way around Astarion where she could whisper in his ear, "Under the most mildly attractive women in Faerûn?"

Astarion flipped Amaranth to the side so he could face her. "Don't you dare misquote me. You know I think you're beautiful, almost as beautiful as myself and I won't settle for less," he preened. "But... That is a thought. I can think of several activities to do under a beautiful woman that don't require magic, and several more over them." His eyes darkened and his tone lowered as he pulled her body close, nuzzling into her neck.

Amaranth leaned back palming his chest, weakly pretending to keep him at bay. "Sorry, Darling, my nursemaid says I'm not cleared for such strenuous activities." She teased dodging neck kisses.

He rested his head on her shoulder with a sigh. She was right. Her body needed rest to recover. He would feel worse afterwards if she was weakened again. "Fine. You're right." He said finally into her collar bone.

Tsk. "Awe. You gave up so easily. It's fine though, we can just cuddle." Amaranth said petting his white curls. "After breakfast though, I'm really hungry."

Astarion laughed, "Of course, my dear. You need to regain your energy. Maybe we can revisit your restrictions with your nursemaid later when you're more- energized." He pecked her lips before leaving to get her breakfast.

[starsurface]

I was wondering if you have any more hc's for regressor Vanitas and cg Ventus, but also cg Vanitas and regressor Ven? Like when one regresses, the other takes care of him? I'm bad at putting things into words, sorry.

You were great with your words, don't sweat it!! :D

I couldn't find gifs of them together, for some reason, so there's only one pic and it's whoever the regressor is, I'm so sorry. 😭

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Ventus w/ Regressor Vanitas Hcs

🍏 Once they get past the whole “You sure your still not evil?” “I already said yes, idiot.” “. . . You sure sure?” phase, these two are actually very close, both big and little

💀 Ventus becomes Vanitas’s main CG, that’s his ‘brother’ after all!!

🍏 Vanitas is a baby bat all the way, this man doesn’t do bright colors or such while small

💀 Speaking of him being a baby batt, Ventus got Vanitas his first regression item!! It’s a sippy cup with black wings on it

🍏 He gave it to Vanitas when Vanitas was already small, because he knew big Vanitas would make a big fuss about it, and it was definitely the right call

💀 Vanitas gave Ventus a small thank you and had a death grip on it for the rest of the day, even when it was empty, it’s his now, no one else gets to touch it

🍏 Surprisingly, Vanitas isn’t necessarily a brat

💀 If Ventus says no to something, he’ll huff and pout, but he won’t scream or hit, he just gets really upset and sulks

🍏 Now, he’ll scream and yell when he’s big, which most times ends up with him regressing small and teary-eyed, but Ventus knows how to handle these types of meltdowns

💀 Putting his foot down, but also soft words and asking if Vanitas needs some alone time, which Vanitas most times takes

🍏 When Vantias hesitantly comes back to Ventus, now small and upset about his actions, Ventus just scoops him up and tells him that no, he shouldn’t have yelled like that, but everythings okay now

💀 This doesn’t mean he isn’t a sassy little though

🍏 Ventus said no to more candy? Well he’s not going to like it!! >:( . . . But an eye roll and laying on the ground for five minutes will eventually change his mood

💀 I spoke a lot about Vanitas going to Terra and Aqua about nightmares, but I think Vanitas would also mainly go to Ventus, especially when he’s small

🍏 Sometimes Ventus will wake up to a teary-eyed toddler, other times he’ll wake up to Vanitas leaning over his bed (especially when he gives Vanitas his room key)

💀 Either way, Ventus will cuddle his baby until Vanitas falls asleep (and then talk about it in the morning)

🍏 Vanitas adores wrestling!! It’s so fun!! :D

💀 But, uh, he’s a little bit rough with wrestling, not using his strength correctly

🍏 So he’s not allowed to wrestle other littles >:\ (except for Repliku, but they have a habit of crashing into things, so that’s not allowed either)

💀 Other than some occasional wrestling, Vanitas is more of a softer, quieter regressor

🍏 He mainly regresses for comfort, and most times on the verge of breaking down (Ventus is working on it with him, he’s getting better)

💀 So activities like watching tv, or coloring, cuddles, those are his main go-to’s

🍏 Although if he’s a bit happier while small, maybe he’ll indulge in a game of tag (and act like he hates it, but Ventus knows otherwise)

💀 Ventus is a very fluent CG!!!

🍏 Sora wants to have a tea party? Of course they can blast some music! He’ll ask Aqua if they can steal some cookies

💀 Vanitas just wants to read a small sory (by shoving it into Ventus’s chest and blinking at him), well he could put on some soft background music and make it the best storytime yet!!

🍏 Ventus is helping Vanitas with a lot of things, like asking for stuff politely, or encouraging him to ask for help when he needs it

💀 Most times Ventus only knows Vanitas is small because he gets a upset toddler at his bedroom door

🍏 But sometimes Vanitas will ask for some small time, and Ventus tries very hard to make sure he has a fun time

💀 Ventus’s CG nicknames are Bubba and Ven-Ven (mostly just Ven, but tiny tiny Vanitas finds Ven-Ven funny)

🍏 Vanitas’s little nicknames are Bunny, Cookie, Tough Guy, Sweetie, Death-Destroyer, Rascal

💀 Vanitas isn’t secret secret of his regression? But very few people know, and he’d gets super defensive whenever someone new fidns out and lashes out

🍏 . . . Okay, he is super secret about his regression, but it’s not his fault!!

💀 Ventus encourages him to come to other world with him while small, but he’s really only okay with going to Disney Town

🍏 ^ And it’s really only to see Queen Minnie (I like to think they have a friendship, I dunno why) and get ice cream (loves ice cream, one of the few foods he eats while big too)

💀 It’s okay, they’ll have adventures someday, right now it’s just quiet peaceful time

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Vanitas w/ Regressor Ventus Hcs

💀 Ventus regresses from about 2-6, mostly a toddler headspace

🍏 It takes time for Vanitas to take a CG role, but he does make a pretty decent babysitter

💀 . . . Oh, did I say pretty decent? I mean he lets Regressors cause CHAOS (unless it effects him)

🍏 Except, Ventus is a pretty ‘good’ little, and doesn’t enjoy getting in trouble (Terra or Aqua always end up catching them in the end anyhow)

💀 He will push some rule boundries or ask why and whine and pout if you say no though

🍏 Vanitas tries really hard not to snap at Ventus when he gets all whiney, and he’s done a great job every time

💀 The main reason Vantas became a CG for Ventus is because little Ventus would cling to him, or play nearby him, or just ask to sit beside him

🍏 Ventus is a very clingy little, and Vanitas wll let him snuggle to his side 

💀 Plus . . . he actually really likes hanging out with Ventus, and he enjoys watching him while he’s small (You didn’t hear anything though!!)

🍏 Ventus has many favorite little activities!! But his all time favorite is coloring

💀 The problem is where he colors . . .

🍏 Papers good! Coloring books are good! But walls and floors and tables also look just like canvasas!! :D

💀 He’ll try to push the boundries time and time again, but no one lets him get his way :(  (Especially Aqua!!)

🍏 However . . . Vanitas has no idea why there’s a kitty cat and a flower on the wall in marker, he defiently didn’t see anything

💀 At first Ventus was iffy about Vantias’s Unvirse, but now they’re his playmates

🍏 Vanitas acts likes it’s a big deal summoning them, but it actually helps him too (the universe are suppose to be his bad or negative feeligns in the games and manga? Which is why it hurts him when theyre killed) (<-- Tell me if I’m inncorrect though!!)

💀 Ventus’s favorite is the Hareraiser (it’s my favorite), and Vanitas likes them too, they’ve very content with sitting on one of their laps and being treated like a stuffie

🍏 Although Ventus likes normal Floods too!! They’re great to play hide and seek with!! (even if they cheat >:\)

💀 Ventus likes games like tag or hide and seek, but Vanitas rarely lets him win :(

🍏 If it’s tag, he’ll run a bit too fast!! Or he’ll have a secret secret (almost impossible) hiding place

💀 It makes Ventus super upset, so Vanitas eventually lets his pride go and lets his baby win, he’s not terribly mean to regressors on purpose, or tries not to be

🍏 Ventus’s favorite stuffie is this froggie stuffie he owns, and only a few people are allowed to touch it

💀 Vanitas made fun of it once, and got sent to time out before of how upset Ventus was because of it (Big Vanitas doesn’t do timeouts . . . but he did that one time with little complaint)

🍏 As an apology, Vanitas got Ventus one of those froggie bucket hats so he could be like his froggie, and Ventus adores it!!

💀 Ventus will share his snacks with Vanitas, and now Vanitas really likes rainbow goldfish (one of Ventus’s main little snacks)

🍏 Vanitas’s CG nicknames are Vani (Vanny) and maybe Dada when Ventus is more on the tiny side? More leaning on Vani though

💀 Ventus’s little nicknames are Baby Boy, Venty-Wenty (when Vanitas is being mean), Squirt, Little Guy

🍏 ^ Vanitas is still getting use to calling Ventus nicknames though, so Venty and Little Guy is a big one

💀 Ventus loves going to other universes while small!! But only those who know he’s small, he's not super open about his regression either and would rather it stay a secret

🍏 Like some of the Princesses!! He adores making flower crowns with Snow White, and Vanitas is there to get the dwarfs to back off

💀 Vanitas did not cry when Ventus made him a flower crown, stop making up lies 🙄 (. . . One of y’alls a lier)

🍏 Ventus adores going to Disney Town while small

💀 There’s a bunch of cool games and stuff to do!! 

🍏 Vanitas will let him run around and get them ice cream, plus he gets more stares than Ventus does, so if he has to be the distraction so Ven can be small, that’s okay with him

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I actually love the idea of their friendship. 🥺

Like, the only reason I said Terra accepted Vanitas first was because I adore Terra. And he had the least interaction with Vanitas, and he's an extension of Ven, so there has to be some light in him.

Ventus and Aqua could totally work too!! For Ventus, that's his other half, why does he not deserve the chance and life he got? For Aqua, she was stuck in darkness for almost ten years, she knows how it is to suffer.

[viking-raider]

A Witcher's Legacy - PART FOUR: MUTAGENS

Summary: What should have been a short stay in Beauclair, turns into something much more complicated. Both to your and Geralt's present and future.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Parts: I II III

Warning: PG - Witcher!AU, Dad!Geralt, Protective!Geralt, Sassy!Reader, Language, Nicknames, Medical Experiment, Portals, Monster Fight, Mention of Smut, Fluff, Mention of Grave Robbing, Witcher Mutagens, Bickering, Mage Technology

Inspiration: A subject from my story, A Witcher’s Destiny, Season Two of Netflix’s the Witcher and the quest, Turn and Face the Strange, in The Witcher 3!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to be added A Witcher’s Legacy Tag List, please message me!

I also have the story on my AO3

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

“Who's the letter from, Geralt?” You asked, watching the little carrier boy run off, excited about the ten crowns Geralt had kindly given him.

Frowning, Geralt unfolded the parchment, finding another piece of folded paper inside with a familiar writing in black ink. “Yennefer.” He said softly, casting his eyes up to you for a moment.

“Oh.” You replied, a tight smile pulling across your lips. “A wonder how she found out we were in Toussaint, since we just arrived.” You commented to yourself, moving to a vine covered staircase, with roses the size of your hand, the color of butter and the finest Toussaint Red, making the air so fragrant.

Letting out a humming grunt, Geralt read the letter aloud.

“My dear friend, I've been told you're on a jaunt in Toussaint, with your sweetheart. I've come upon some information which might be of interest to you. While browsing through a colleague's, Tomas Moreau's, book collection, I found mention of him conducting research into mutations.” Geralt scowled at the letter, a troubled feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. “The details I've come to learn are rather vague and his laboratory's location remains a mystery. Yet his journal should at least provide hints as to both. It is said he was laid to rest with it in his tomb. I enclose a map I found in the tome I happened upon. Though less than completely legible, I trust it will prove useful.”

“Your friend, Yennefer.”

“So, mutations.” You echoed, turning back to Geralt and folding your arms tightly over your chest. “What kind of mutations? Was he trying to mutate the normal stuff or do you think he was trying to fuss around with Witcher mutations?”

“It's hard to tell without finding his laboratory and discovering more about his research.” He replied, pushing his jaw forward has he stared down at the letter, mulling it over in his mind. “I need to look into this. If he was testing mutagens for Witchers, then I have to find it and get it back to Vesemir.”

“Before anyone else finds it.”

“All right then.” You nodded, chewing on your lip, just as concerned. “Where to first?” You asked, wishing to help.

“Yennefer's letter said he was possibly buried with the location of his laboratory.” He said, unfolding the map the Sorceress had enclosed. “So, we go there and find it.” Geralt examined the map for a long moment, his brow twitching in his concentration. “It looks as if he was buried in Orlémurs Cemetery. That's not too far from here.”

“We can walk.”

“Lovely.” You smiled, then glanced about. “Which way, you big grump?” You asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Geralt smirked back at you, waving a hand towards the gently sloping, pathway. “This way, Firefly.” He replied, with a cock of his head.

Nodding yours at him, you started down the brick street, Geralt following closely behind you. The Capital city of Toussaint, Beauclair, was gorgeous and it filled you with a light, gaiety that put a skip in your step and a pleased smile on your face. As you looked about. Taking the architecture in, the hot sun beaming down on top of your head and shoulders, reflecting your mood. Geralt smiled at the back of you, seeing and sensing the joyfulness inside of you. He felt it seep into him.

You had an effect on him and his ordinarily sulky moods.

“It's so beautiful here.” You commented, glancing at Geralt over your shoulder.

“That it is.” He agreed, looking about, seeing the bustling stalls and shops, the Toussaintois going about their business and day. “We'll have to make our stay a more serious one.” He said, moving around to your side, his arm wrapping around your waist as you passed through a thick crowd. “I know this is your first time here.” He smiled, dipping his head slightly to press his lips to your temple, in a rare show of public affection.

“Hm.” You hummed, nudging your shoulder into his side. “That would be nice.” You cooed, looking up at him, trusting him to guide you. “You do still have a few injuries to nurse from that Wyvern contract, you took in Caravista.”

He grunted back at you, still smiling as you crossed out of the city gates. “It's settled, then. I'll investigate this matter, and afterwards, we'll find the best room in the best inn, and we won't leave until you wish to.”

“So, until they kick us out?” You quipped, giggling.

“As you wish.” Geralt chuckled, as you both stepped off the paved path of Beauclair and onto the well trod trail to the large, Orlémurs Cemetery.

Making it to the Cemetery, that looked like a manicured set of ruins with grave-sites dotting it, you and Geralt drifted apart, searching the faces of cracked and crooked, tombstones, that had seen many years out in the open weather and tears of loved ones.

“What did Yenn say, this colleague of hers name was?” You called out to Geralt, reading the worn name of Patrick Moulins, who, according to his headstone, had talked himself to death.

“Tomas Moreau.” Geralt returned, walking along a line of graves, before stopping. “Found him!”

You joined him before the overgrown and disheveled grave, the heavy stone that was meant to seal Professor Moreau's coffin in the ground, slightly askew. You looked at Geralt a confused and questioning expression on your face. Frowning back at you, Geralt moved closer to the grave, dropping to a squat to read the mossy etching.

“Typical Mage. It's in Elder Speech.” He huffed, shaking his head. “Ellas k'havani allder aen Dol Naev'de, ellas allder n'corrason. Glorsann a'Aelirenn.” He read aloud, despite it sounding like gibberish to you. “Salvation lies not in Dol Naev'de, but in our hearts. Glory be to Aelirenn.” He translated, as he reached into the grave, through the small opening, feeling around.

“Oh god.” You frowned, biting your lip and imaging his hand touching one of the Professor's bones.

Not the worst thing he's ever touched, honestly. You thought, shaking your head.

“Do you think it has anything do with what you're looking for?” You asked, as he glanced side to side, knowing he was falling into his Witcher seek and find mode.

“Maybe.” He rumbled back. “Someone's robbed the grave, the journal isn't inside.” He said, narrowing his eyes against the bright, cloudless sun and looked around, before standing back up. “The grave won't tell us anything more.” He said, pull Yenn's map from his back pocket.

“A regular ol' treasure hunt.” You quipped, peeking around his arm. “Anything helpful?”

“The map has mention of Aelirenn and Dol Naev'de, also known as Valley of the Nine.” He said, pointing them out on the map for you. “There's a small mark on it. So, it's worth a look. I'll have to grab Roach to make the trip though. It's a long way from here.”

He folded the map up and tucked into his pocket, then turned back towards Beauclair.

“Geralt.” You called out to him, motioning to the grave, when he turned back to face you.

“What?” He frowned, not catching the meaning of your gesture.

“Close it.” You cooed at him, with a somber expression. “It's not right someone disturbed him for a book.”

“We just disturbed him for a book, min minne.” Geralt countered, the corner of his lip twitching.

“Still, Geralt. He deserves his rest, as we all do.” You entreated him.

Drawing a soft sigh, Geralt returned to the grave side and leaned over it, he used the strength of his powerful arms to shove the thick stone slab back into its rightful place over Professor Moreau's coffin. He straightened up and looked at you, lifting a brow, and you nodded at him, satisfied.

“One less dead person risen from the grave you have to deal with.” You commented, sarcastically. patting him on the back and kissing his cheek.

“Funny.” Geralt chuckled, giving your bum a playful smack, making you yip. “You can't come with me.” He said, as you returned to Beauclair and where you had left Roach.

“Why not?” You frowned, a bit disappointed, you enjoyed helping him with his contracts.

“I don't know how dangerous this could be.” He reasoned, grabbing Roach by the reins. “I won't endanger you. So, I'm going to take you to the Rose and Knight inn, in the center of the City, and you'll wait for me there.”

“What if something happens to you?” You argued, following after him, while he led you through the streets.

“What else would be new?” He chuckled at you over his shoulder.

“The new thing is this matter isn't about you going to slay a monster in the countryside.” You huffed, annoyed by how nonchalant he was being. “This professor was mucking about with mutations.”

Geralt's shoulders slumped and he stopped, his head hung for a second, before he finally turned around to look at you. He could see all the concern and fear in your eyes over this task, more so than usual. Which he understood. Considering it for a minute longer, Geralt tugged Roach around and mounted up, then reached down and pulled you up behind him.

“If anything should happen-”

“I know, I know.” You assured him, leaning against his back. “Tuck tail and run.”

The ride through the Toussaint countryside was stunning. The rolling hills of vineyards baking in the cloudless sun, their vines drooping with fat grapes waiting to be picked and turned into area's finest wine. Homey and extravagant villas dotted the landscape as well, abuzz with their daily chores as you Geralt rode by them.

You sighed, pressing your cheek against Geralt's shoulder blade, relaxing. “I could stay here forever.” You cooed, as Geralt guided Roach onto a path that led in a thicket of trees, cooling you with their leaf-y shade, after the unrelenting heat.

“Oh.” Geralt answered, his chuckle rumbling against your cheek. “That's because you haven't seen it in the winters.”

“It can't be much worse than Kaer Morhen.” You commented, smirking.

“Oh, you'd be surprised.”

Coming out of the woods and around the bend of a sloping hill, Geralt pulled Roach to a stop on the shore of a large and startling clear lake, where the two of you got down. Geralt took a sword from a holster that hung the horse's saddle and the pouch of his vials from in the bag, before the two of you started looking for any indication of an entrance to a mysterious laboratory. You walked along the one side of the shore, where the bank was built up, eroded from years of the lake water lapping at, while Geralt check the water.

“What is it with Mages and their mysteries?” You sighed, shaking your head.

“They live too long.” Geralt grunted back. “After so many years on the Continent, they become paranoid and full of themselves.”

“Starting to make a lot of sense.” You agreed, spotting a unique little rock sitting on the edge of the sand and grass. Going for the rock, you noticed a narrow, grassy culvert that went back a good way. You couldn't see where it ended, or if there was an end, with the limbs of several trees flanking the culvert drooping over it, like a leafy curtain.

“Geralt.” You called out, cocking your head and taking a step into the ditch. “What about over here?” You mumbled, inching further.

The Witcher turned, just as you disappeared and called out your name. “She'll be the death of me.” He sighed, hurrying to follow after you. “Wait.” He hissed under his breath, grabbing you by the wrist as he came up behind, pulling you to a halt. “We don't know if the Professor's lab is down here or what is.”

“You need to be careful.” He softly scolded you, protectively.

“Sorry.” You whispered back, but cast your eyes up ahead. “But don't you think we should check it out?”

“I will investigate it. You will stay behind me.” Geralt corrected you, pulling his sword and moving forward.

You stayed on Geralt's heels, while he used the tip of his sword to part the tree branches, the muscles of his body tense and every one of his keen senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary and wishing ill intent. You jerked and gasped softly at the whoop of a bird in the distance, instinctively grabbing the back of Geralt's black shirt.

Coming out of the other side of the foliage, you and Geralt discovered a decayed stone wall. It was covered in moss and dead, creeping vines, several of its ashy stones laying in the spongy, overgrown grass and mud. You saw nothing special about it and figured Geralt hadn't either, so you started to turn back.

“Fuck.” Geralt growled under his breath, stopping you.

“What's wrong?” You frowned, turning back to him.

“I hate portals.” He scowled, moving closer to stone wall and bent over, picking up what you had figured was just a rock, then slotted it into one of the gaps.

A low hissing, hum filled the space around you and the hair on your forearms stood up as the static from the portal mounted. Geralt stepped back from the wall, took a deep breath, and with a jerk of his arm, produced the Sign of his Aard. The Aard hit the stone, making it wobble in its base, before it started to glow and an arched portal appeared on the face of the wall.

“That's promising.” You commented, looking at Geralt with a lifted brow.

He shot you a dark, narrow eyed look and approached the portal, taking deep slow breaths. “What's wrong with a good, solid locked door?” He complained under his breath, before stepping through.

“Kills giant, poisonous monsters for a living. Terrified of portals.” You grinned, hooting with laughter, and following after him.

You came stumbling out the other side, gasping for air, disoriented and nauseous. But managed to land on your feet and was slowed down by Geralt's strong arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his torso. He looked you over, with an expression that wanted to make sure everything was in the right place and you had all the part you were meant to have.

“I'm fine, Geralt.” You cooed at him, gently kissing his stubbly cheek.

Nodding, he let you go and glanced around the cavernous room you had been spit out into. It smelled damp, moldy, airless and like a nest of Kikimore had been using it as a litter box. You could hardly see more than two feet in front of you, but thankfully Geralt had no such issue. His sharp, cat-like eyes could see around you, as if it was a well lit room. So, you made sure to keep near him, putting your feet where his had been.

The place was like Elven ruins that had caved in or been covered over across time. With tall arches and columns. Rubble and rubbish littered the ground, making your footing unsure as you went deeper in. Geralt stopped, causing you to bump him, your lips parting in question of why he had halted, until you saw the spark of his Igni, lighting something you couldn't quite make out in the shadows. Until, it ignited, a iron brazier, casting an amber glow against the wall and a small radius around its base.

“This is a crazy place to have a lab.” You criticized, giving the place a better look, now that the brazier was lit. “I can understand wanting to do your research in peace and privacy. But hiding your portal in such away, then having to navigate through a ruin to get to it.” You shook your head, confused.

“It seems like over kill.”

“It is.” Geralt agreed, lighting another brazier, that revealed a crumbling set of stairs. “It's only making me more suspicious of what type of mutagens he was working with.”

Your eyes shot up to the back of his head, an uneasy feeling filling your stomach at the thought of Professor Moreau testing Witcher mutagens.

Carrying on, you descended the stairs and passed through a narrow hallway, coming out into an elevated cross way, leading off in three directions, one of which was blocked off by a large statue of a panther. Sighing, Geralt moved forward, investigating the other two paths, in doing so, he discovered the body of the grave robber.

“Hm.” He grunted, shaking his head at the poor soul, but nevertheless, he searched his person for the Professor's journal, only finding a few loose pages of it.

“Geralt.” You called out, softly.

“One moment.” He answered, scanning the pages, learning the Professor had become paranoid with someone trying to break into his laboratory, and had installed security measures.

“Geralt.” You called again, a bit more urgently.

“What is it, min minne?” He sighed, turning on his heels to look back at you.

Your eyes were fixated on the panther statue standing menacingly above Geralt. “Is-is that-” You licked your lips, trying to compose yourself. “Is that statue-the panther's eyes—supposed to glow?” You asked, your voice squeaking a bit at the end as your eyes flared.

Geralt's head jerked upward to the statue, just in time to have the creature strike out against him. “Run!” He roared back at you, fumbling for his sword.

Not needing any other prompts, you turned on your heels and bolted down the hallway from where the two of you had just come. The panther knocked Geralt flat onto his back, forcing him to brace his forearm against its throat in prevention of its powerful jaws from biting into anything vital. Unable to grab his sword, Geralt brought up one foot, yanking a dagger from inside his boot and driving the needle thin blade into the snarling animal's neck. The panther gurgled, then dissolved into a pile of ash, revealing itself to be a specter, one of Professor Moreau's security attempts.

Getting up, Geralt searched for you, running almost full speed down the passageway and up the crumbling stairs. But skid to a halt, when he found you by the first brazier, a look of terror and worry on your face. Seeing Geralt was all right, you ran to him, colliding into his chest and locking your arms around his torso, to hide your face in his neck.

“You see now, why I didn't want you to come?” He sighed, resting his head on top of yours.

You nodded, still to overcome to speak for a second. “I do, but I still want to help.”

“I don't know what help you can be.” He countered, tipping your head back, so you looked at him, studying your eyes. “You are the most stubborn woman I've ever met.” He chuckled, shaking his head, knowing he couldn't deter you.

“It's why you fell in love with me.” You quipped back at him.

“One of the reasons.” He teased back, before becoming serious again. “You'll stay in the room I've cleared, before going any farther, do you understand me?”

“Loud and clear, Witcher.” You nodded, pushing up on your toes to kiss him.

Continuing on, You and Geralt navigated through the maze, hoping you were getting closer to the Professor's lab and the answers to your questions. There hadn't been any more specters to jump out and attack either, but there had been a few traps Geralt needed to disarm, before either of you could move forward. Such as a spike trap, that came up out of the floor.

“This place is endless.” You remarked, edging around the disarmed spikes, heart pounding in your chest.

“Seems that way.” Geralt answered, waiting for you, then entered the next room. “The fuck.” He barked, brow wrinkling.

“What?” You called out, staying in the other room, just like he wanted you to. “Is it safe?”

Geralt took a deep breath, studying the creepy Gargoyles that lined alcoves on the main level, with an inactive portal, while the next two levels were lined with inactive portals. “Stay there.” He barked, slowly approaching two pedestals in the center of the room, on either side of a massive statue, and examined them, finding scrap marks on the sides.

Looking at the Gargoyles, he noticed two of them were missing hands. Narrowing his eyes, Geralt approached one and broke the hand off with blast of his Aard. Taking the heavy piece of stone to the pedestal, he rested it on top and a loud clicking noise echoed in the room, followed by the unmistakable whoosh of a portal opening. Turning in a circle and casting his eyes around, Geralt found one of the portals on the upper level active.

“Geralt.” You shouted, planting you hands on your hips.

“Just wait.” He growled, seeing if he could map out a way up to the portal, but wasn't sure where it would take him or if he could get back.

Taking the stone hand off the first pedestal, Geralt shifted it to the other one, gaining the same results he did with the other one, but opening a portal on the middle tier. Humming, he broke off another Gargoyle hand and set it on the other pedestal, activating both portals, but not the portal on the main level.

“What's the issue, Geralt?” You called out to him, growing curious.

“Mage shenanigans.” He growled under his breath, circling the statue and regarding the other gargoyles and inactive portals.

Impatient with waiting for Geralt to tell you the way was safe, you strode into the room, but jerked back a step, surprised by the thick set of grotesque gargoyles. You recovered quickly though, spotting the singing portals and your frustrated Witcher.

“What's the rub?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“That portal-” He pointed to the portal in question. “needs to activate. But so far, only these two have.” He explained, motioning to the others.

“Mmhm. Quite the situation.” You nodded, biting your lip.

“Yes.” Geralt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I loathe mages.”

“Didn't you date one?” You inquired, giving him a teasing and sharp gaze.

“Against my better judgment.” He replied, rolling his eyes.

“So, what happens, if you only have one of the pedestals active?” You asked, studying them.

“Only one of the portals open.”

“Have you tried going through one of them?”

“No, not yet, and I'm not really in a rush to.” He answered, pacing. “I don't know where they go, or if once I go through them, that I can get back here.”

“Perhaps, you're right.” You sighed, gazing at the statue. “Mages do live too long.”

That brought a soft chuckle out of Geralt. “They do.”

Seeing no other options, Geralt began climbing towards the portal on the middle tier, just as you noticed a crevice, low in the robe of the statue. Glancing between it and Geralt, you slipped your hand inside of it, praying not to come into contact with any unsavory creatures that could make their home in the small space, and felt around.

“Geralt, wait!” You called out, your fingers coming into contact with something.

“What is it!” He called back, spinning around as he stood before the portal. “What's wrong?”

“I found something! But I can't quite manage it.” You told him, staining.

“Don't touch it!” He warned you, jumping back down and quickly moving to your side. “It might be a trap.” He told you, his breath hot on your neck.

“And if it's not?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Move, I'll do it. Go back into the other room. In case, something happens.” He ordered you, jerking his white head towards the door.

Knowing that arguing with Geralt was useless, you did as he asked of you, but angled yourself so you could see him. Geralt pulled his glove off and wedged his large hand into the crevice, just finding the button that was hidden inside. With a little wiggling, he pressed on the button and yanked his hand back out again, readying himself for the worst.

Several of the gargoyles turned on hidden bases in the floor, all turning to face the statue and the direction of the inactive bottom portal, and a suspenseful moment later, the portal came to life. Geralt let out a huff of amused surprise, looking the portal over.

“It worked!” He called out to you. “And, it's safe.”

You ran into the room and grinned at the portal, proud that you had figured out a Mage's security system, but felt your stomach twist a little bit. “So, do we go through it?” You asked, looking up at Geralt.

“It's through there or back the way we've come.” He replied, pulling his glove back on. “I'll go first, in case there's anything dangerous.”

“Very well, I'll wait a minute, then follow after you.” You nodded, lightly touching his arm.

Nodding, Geralt stepped through the portal with no further ado and you waited anxiously for a minute or two, stomach in knots not knowing if Geralt was in the fight for his life on the other side, wherever it led. Unable to wait any longer, you slipped through the portal after him, coming out the other side gasping and sick to your stomach, but intact.

“Geralt?” You called out, pressing a hand to your tummy.

“Welcome to Professor Moreau's laboratory.” He replied, coming from around a corner.

You looked about the strange and disheveled space with a shake of your head. “I expected more.” You answered, moving down a set of stairs.

Geralt had lit the many braziers and standing candelabras situated around the room, giving the already unsettling room an unsettling feeling. You found cluttered tables, bookcases, tall brass instruments, a Mage communication device, a large, iron cage and a huge and grotesque, glass specimen jar with something black and almost human floating in it.

“Well, have you learned anything yet?” You asked, hugging your arms against your chest, even with the braziers, there was an eerie cold about the place.

“There are Megascope crystals on a pillow next to Moreau's Megascope.” He motioned to them, next to the mage communication system of three stands, that stood in a circle, a loop at the top, where the crystals rested and a powerful piece of glass to project the image magically etched onto the crystal. “I found another on that desk over there.” He added, motioning over to it.

“I'm going to see what our dear Professor has on them.” He said, moving over to the Megascope.

“I can dig around, see if there are anymore.” You said, glancing about. “Or anything else of interest.”

“All right, just don't touch whatever those are.” He said, pointing to the brass instruments, one of which looked like a strange Iron Maiden.

“Don't have any plans to, love.” You gulped, getting goose-bumps as you edged by them.

Geralt picked up the three crystals, slotting them into the Megascope and turned the rune cylinder at the bottom of one of them, activating that specific crystal's information. A bleak image of Professor Moreau, devoid of color, flickered to life in the center of the Megascope stands. Professor Moreau wore typical mage robes, he had a wrinkled face with a pair of pinch glasses perched on his nose, and spoke with a typical Toussaint accent.

“Today, I begin my great life's endeavor, one greater and more significant than any I have thus far undertaken, for it relates to me personally. To me and my son.” He spoke, confessing his son, Jerome, was a Witcher and he made an oath to recover him, his apparition turning in circles as he spoke.

“So, it is Witcher mutagens.” You said, poking around a bookcase.

“Yes.” Geralt nodded, troubled.

The crystal ended with the Professor vowing, Gods being on his side, to reverse the Witcher mutagens in Jerome and make him an ordinary man again.

“I wonder if the Professor managed to do so.” He frowned, turning on the next crystal.

“Observation twenty-two, despite applying a surfeit of toxic substances, significantly more than usual, the subject displayed no symptoms of overdose.” Professor Moreau's reanimated projection explained, as Geralt stroked his scruffy cheek. “This is a minor success. Jerome may be able to tolerate better toxicity.”

The crystal ended with a soft pop and Geralt moved on to the next crystal, explaining how to make the mutagens less taxing and listing the mutagen base. He slotted the last crystal he had in, listening to Moreau speak about how one mutagen could be transmuted into another through the addition of certain ingredients, and of his subject, though on the brink of death, was much stronger than he had been and came back from the edge of death.

“It seems he's enhanced his subject, instead of cured them.” Geralt commented, more to himself than you.

“Have you never met this Jerome?” You asked, coming to stand beside him.

“No.” He shook his head. “But that's not too uncommon. He might be from another Witcher school or dead.”

“Ah. Well, I did find the Professor's journal on Witcher Mutagens.” You informed him, holding up the worn, purple, cloth bound book to him. “I suppose, you want to take it and the Megascope crystals back to Kaer Morhen with us.”

Geralt gave you a golden glance from the corner of his eyes, that told you he did, but not before getting into something you weren't going to be happy about. You sighed at him, letting your hand drop back to your side, eyes falling shut for a moment.

“You want to test this mutagen stuff out, don't you?” You asked, needlessly.

“I do.” Geralt answered, with a short nod.

“Why?” You groaned, looking up at him with a pleading look. “Can't we at least go to Kaer Morhen and do it in a safe environment, with Vesemir? That way, if something happens, we'll have him to revive your stupidity?”

A broad grin passed over his lips. “But all the equipment is already here, min minne.” He cooed at you. “We'd have to build all of it at the Keep.”

“Then, you'd have to fight Eskel and Lambert for first go inside.” You added, knowing that was going to be his next argument. “I thought you were over the whole Trial of the Grasses! You bitch about how hard it was! How much it hurt and blah blah! But you're all pony up to do this?” You scolded him, shaking your head. “Jaskier would be tripping over his lute, if he was here to witness this.”

“What if it fails and you die!” You protested, waving the book in his face.

“I'm sure I'll be fine.” He smiled, kissing you lightly on the forehead.

You rolled your eyes at him. “It's not like I can talk you out of it. So, what do you need me to do?” You sighed, giving in.

“I want you to go through his book and tell me what ingredients I need.” He said, brushing the back of his fingers against your cheek, trying to pacify you.

“Very well.” You glanced around and found a low stool by the table, next to the strange Iron Maiden, and took it up, starting to skim through the book, while Geralt investigated the rest of the laboratory.

“Something about a Pale Widow.” You said aloud, still skimming. “Getting a syringe full of mutated giant centipede albumen from the Pale Widow and the Ashwagandha herb.” You looked up at Geralt.

“That's all it states.”

“Well, he has to have it readily here.” Geralt answered, scanning the room, spotting an opening in the stone wall inside the iron cell and a well used needle on the wooden table you sat beside. “Stay here, I'll be right back.” He said softly, heading that way.

“Ger-” You started to call after him, before giving up and going back to reading the book.

Geralt ducked into the opening in the wall, finding a dank and dripping tunnel, following it into a large, cavernous space, the floor deep with stinking mud. He slowly pulled his sword as he dropped into the mud, knowing a space like this was a ripe place for a creature to live and attack. But he only saw the walls lined with eggs, quiet and dormant. His medallion was still, giving no indication of magic or monster wishing ill intent upon him.

Though, he kept a firm grip on the hilt of his sword, approaching one of the eggs. He squatted down and pulled the dagger from his boot, slicing open the egg, to be greeted with a putrid scent, making his nose wrinkle. There was a long dead, juvenile, mutated giant centipede inside. Geralt wouldn't have been surprised if the Professor had been keeping its parent as a pet, breeding it for the eggs in his countless Mutagen experiments, then killed the elder after he gave up, leaving the babies to starve and rot off.

Stuffing his dagger back into his boot, Geralt pricked the curled up corpse with the syringe and drew out what little albumen was left inside of it, getting half a syringe full. He cut open another, until the needle chamber was full, then returned to you.

“All right, Albumen acquired.” He said, holding up the syringe.

“I found the herb, Ashwagandha, in one the chests.” You answered, pointing to where you laid it on the table. “All you have to do, is put them both in that boiler, then get into the machine yourself.” You told him, a hard lump forming in your throat, at the thought of your beloved Wolf getting into the iron maiden contraption.

Nodding, Geralt set the syringe down carefully, along with his sword, before pulling off his boots. He stripped naked and looked at you, seeing the worry and conflict on your face. “I'll be fine, Firefly.” He cooed at you, reaching out to cup your cheek for a moment.

“You best be, or I'll never forgive you.” You whimpered back, turning your head to kiss his palm.

Adding the ingredients and activating it, Geralt stepped into the machine, while you stood there, helplessly. You paced before the machine for several minutes, figuring that's all it would take, listening to it pop, hiss and clank. But ten minutes went by and Geralt didn't step out. Thirty minutes, still Geralt was inside. You grew concerned, debating on whether or not you should open it and check on him.

Perhaps he'd passed out and couldn't open the door himself? Or what if he was-

No, he's fine. You cut off the thought, pressing a fist to your mouth. He knows what he's doing. Geralt knows his limits. You tried reassuring yourself, pacing from the bottom of the stairs to the back of the room, your restless impatience growing as the hour and half mark was passed.

You started at the sound of unoiled hinges opening, lifting your head from the table you had rested yourself on, several hours before. However, seeing the door to the machine open and realizing Geralt was finally coming out, you jumped to your feet and rushed to him, just getting your arms around his torso as his legs gave out from under him.

“Geralt!” You panted, feeling his burning skin through your clothing, his head heavy on your shoulder as you both went down to your knees. “Are you all right?” You inquired, hearing his breathing slightly labored.

You cupped his face in your hands and pushed his head up, shocked to find his eyes glowing, the skin of his face dark and marked with black lines, as if he had taken one of his potions or elixirs. He didn't speak for a long time, just catching his breath and resting against you, his eyes and skin returning to normal.

“I'm all right.” He rasped, gulping thickly, his throat and mouth dry. “I'll be all right.” He groaned, pushing himself up onto his feet, wobbling for a second. “How long was I in there for?”

“Hours.” You replied, standing as well. “I was starting to think you weren't coming back out.”

He nodded, moving around the table for his clothing, which in your anxious impatience, you had folded. “We should go.” He said, sluggishly pulling them on.

“For fuck sake, Geralt, sit down and rest for a moment.” You barked at him, pointing to the stool by his leg.

“I'm fine.” He grunted back at you, bunching up his black shirt to pull it over his head and jamming his feet into his boots.

“All right, fine.” You huffed back. “While you were having a merry jaunt in there, I found a map of this place in the Professor's journal.” You told him, with a lifted brow. “Behind that bookcase is supposed to be a hidden passage out, that's shorter.”

“Good.” He nodded, looking towards the Megascope.

“I have the crystals and the journal.” You assured him, resting your hand on his back, feeling the tense muscles there. “I took care of all that, while waiting for you to finish cooking in your Mutagen steamer.” You quipped, forcing a smirk.

Grunting and nodding again, Geralt continued and shoved the bookcase out of the way, finding a vulnerable wall behind it. Without hesitation, he used his Aard on the loose bricks, blasting them inward and rocking the room around you.

“Gods alive!” You gasped, grasping the back of Geralt's arm.

Geralt chuckled and the two of you followed the low ceiling tunnel, finding another portal, that was simply activated by a crystal that laid on the ground. Stepping through, you found yourselves back on the shore of the lake, but a mile or two down from where you had originally entered. With a shrill whistle, calling Roach, you and Geralt walked along the water, to meet the horse, while also enjoying the fresh and cool air.

“I look forward to that luxurious room at the inn.” You commented, getting up behind Geralt on Roach. “To a nice, hot bath. That experiment has made you a bit-foul.” You chuckled, resting your chin on his shoulder and peeking around at him.

“More than usual?” He asked, cocking a brow at you.

“Just a tad.” You laughed, squeezing your arms around his waist.

He spurred Roach back to Beauclair and got a handsome room for the two of you, at the Rose and Knight Inn, that sported its own tub and a balcony, letting you see the vineyards and apiaries in the rolling hills past the city gates in the distance. You stayed for two weeks, not leaving the room for anything. Having your meals brought up to you. Preferring to stay in bed or the bathtub together. It was romantic and refreshing.

[sallysavestheday]

15 questions for mutuals...

Tagged by @welcomingdisaster (thank you). Fact-checking, 5'8" buddies for the win! I've done this before, I think, but can't find it to link, so let's do it again. Any inconsistencies between old and new versions are fair game for questions ;).

1. Are you named after anyone? First name no, middle name yes.

2. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. It clears the ducts, physically and emotionally. As good as a walk on a thundery day.

3. Do you have kids? Two living. Lights of my life, harpoons in my heels. Parenting's a treat and an adventure.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes, but I try to make it about things and situations, not at particular people. It's a balance that has taken some time to acquire.

5. What sports do you play/have played? Dance (very seriously for many years), swimming (for fun only), horseback riding and hiking. And lately, juggling! Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? How they carry themselves: ease and set and posture. Balance and openness (or not). All the little physical tells about the mind and heart inside.

7. What's your eye color? BROWN!! The best color. ;)

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Eh, happy endings, I guess. I appreciate an occasional startle, but I don't like gore.

9. Any special talents? When the collapse comes, I will keep your children laughing and learning while you forage for food and filter the water and get the fire going. After the meal, I'll sing everyone to sleep.

10. Where were you born? In a place that no longer exists.

11. What are your hobbies? Reading, writing, singing, gardening (badly), cooking when the mood strikes me, enjoying the marvelously serious and silly minds of my children while I can.

12. Do you have pets? Hard no. Grew up in a house full of them. Other people's pets are fun, but I deeply appreciate the lack of fur and fuss and extra responsibility in my own space now.

13. How tall are you? I was 5 foot 8 at my peak. I have weathered to 5 foot 6 and 3/4.

14. Favorite subject in school? Languages and social sciences.

15. Dream job? I'm in it! Although I still wish I had more time for family and fun.

Not tagging anyone in particular, but feel free to hop on in!

[aerodaltonimperial]

Hook trying to find the perfect Valentine's gift.

(Okay I think soft girl time is over after this LMAO don't choke on how sugary it is)

He is not good at this. He just isn't built for it; it doesn't come naturally, nor easily, and thinking too hard about it manages to summon an embarrassment that heats the sides of his neck. And he would absolutely have fled already if Anthony hadn't been his ride, if there were any other options besides waiting awkwardly in the aisle overfull with pink and red, with hearts and streamers, with balloons and bears with inane sentiments stamped across them.

Wow, he is really, really not good at this.

"Yo," Dante says, holding up a card that looks just like a hundred others, the same nauseating color of magenta. "Heartfelt or funny?"

"Heartfelt," Anthony says. "Always go for the heart."

Dante looks at Hook next, and oh, he expects an answer. Shit. He wants an answer?

"Uh," Hook tries, tongue fumbling behind his teeth. "Same?"

"Okay," Dante says, and nods, like he's satisfied. "Maybe like a poem or something."

Hook cannot think of anything less romantic than a greeting card poem typed up on a piece of cardstock marked 300% higher than it should be, but Anthony makes a noise of affirmation. "Always a good move."

Is it? Is this something people really do? Like, not to laugh at, but legitimately because they think it's nice? Or, worse, that it's expected?

Shit. Shit, is this expected?

His palms are getting sweaty the longer he stands in the aisle that's exploded in glitter and manifestations of what people think love is, a representation that Hook has never understood. He can't find words on a good day; how is he supposed to be able to find the right ones on a card while under pressure? Nothing is ever going to actually hit close enough to mean anything: thanks for putting up with me even though I don't ever say the things you probably deserve to hear?

Shit. He's starting to panic. Anthony and Dante are both pulling cards out and reading them, putting them back and reaching for more, and Hook eyes the door longingly. He can't do this. He really, really can't do this.

Anthony seems to finally notice his discomfort. "Yo. Hook. Y'okay?"

Hook nods once, and hopes it's convincing. The two figure out what they want to buy and start towards the registers, and the further they get away from the ticking Valentine's time bomb, the better. Hook's nausea doesn't dissipate until after they've paid and are heading back to the rental car.

He slides into the back without fuss, mostly just so he can tug his phone free and open up the message thread. He shakes a little as he writes, do I need to give you something for Valentine's Day?

It takes a minute for the response to come through: It is a very strange holiday, isn't it? No real connection to anything. Humans are fond of spending money on each other.

but do I need to? Hook replies. I don't know how to do this.

No, Danhausen doesn't think so, Hook’s phone displays, and Hook exhales so quickly it burns his throat. Danhausen does not need cards with silly things written on them.

okay, Hook types. And then adds, I would rather just spend time with you.

Really? comes the follow-up. That's fortunate, because all Danhausen wants is to see Hook, too.

Hook grins, biting down on his lower lip. He's glad he doesn't need to worry himself sick over finding a card that somehow manages to be sentimental without cheesy, meaningful without specific.

He might not have very many words, and most of them might get stuck before he can force them out, but he knows the ones that really matter. When he finally sees Danhausen a few hours later, backstage, he grabs his wrist and tugs him into one of the dark hallways before throwing his arms around Danhausen’s shoulders.

"Hey," he whispers, tangling his fingers in the back of Danhausen’s hair.

"Hey," Danhausen responds, with a low note of surprise. He sounds pleased.

Hook sucks in a deep breath. "I love you, you know?"

"Ah," Danhausen says, and laughs. His arms, a mirror of Hook’s own, tighten. "This is about your question from earlier."

"No, this is about you," Hook tells him.

"Well, in that case, Danhausen loves Hook, too. But Hook already knew that."

Hook did, but there's something about hearing it that helps the concept settle down into his bones, becoming part of him. And maybe that's the whole point of the smarmy cards and overpriced bouquets, at the heart of things.

Still. He'd rather just be like this, wrapped around each other for long enough that the endorphins are triggered in his brain, flooding his limbs with warmth.

"Mm," Danhausen says. His palm flattens against the nape of Hook’s neck. "Hook is Danhausen’s favorite person."

"Ditto," Hook says, and laughs when Danhausen pinches his skin.

[cremisino]

@steavia

❝L'ora D'oro is never particularly too busy, but the start of Alice's shift is noticeably calm. The salmon walls of the cafe echo only their own footsteps and that of the occasional customer. There is little buzz even less fuss, only the breeze rustling the spider plant and weeping figs by the window.

It's a small place, with four wooden tables and chairs inside and three more outside, all with pastel colored paint, chipped in a tasteful, rustic look. Or... maybe they're just old tables.

The stillness of the cafe is not unwelcome. Alice can sit down behind the bar as opposed to standing up. They can have a coffee of their own, and do some reading, maybe play with their phone, maybe have a quiet existential crisis before making drinks.

Were the start of their work days more eventful, Alice is pretty sure she'd have given up the barista job already. They felt a little pathetic about it, truth be told, ashamed of how little they tolerate effort. At this point, though, they just count their blessings for, in fact, having a nice calm before the storm of five in the afternoon, when there is, in fact, much buzz, and often even fuss.

Only a few customers come in at this time. Regulars, usually, including one that Alice dubbed in their mind "tea brunette", a woman who almost always just wants to sip her chamomile tea in peace before, presumably, going back to work.

Alice tried not to make a habit of scrutinizing everyone they saw at the cafe, but it was hard not to wonder, when it was calm like this. What must their lives be like? Do they have a little guy with abilities like Moonchild, too? Did they think about death and dying as much as she did? Were they, too, stuck in the limbo between fear of death and wishing for it?

Take Tea Brunette, for instance, who had just arrived. Alice felt an edge from her. Anxiety, maybe? Was her mind full of neurotic thoughts like Alice's? Did the chamomile tea make it better, or was it just a ritual, like Alice's lattes?

Did anyone alive grow up unscathed?

"Hi, good afternoon," Alice greets, far cheerier than how they feel. It's an existential crisis day, it seems.

At the order, they smile and nod. "Sure thing! I'll bring it to you in just a second." Alice doesn't bother asking her if she wants something to eat, too - Tea Brunette would have said so.

The small talk is new, though. Alice pauses for a second before her brain catches up. "Y-Yeah, you too! I mean, I hoep you're, er, having a productive day too! Producing... many things."

Alice's awkward smile lingers a tad too long. Augh. They're totally gonna fail at this social interaction.

"I'll be just a second," they turn around, and her apron's skirt twirls with the motion as they go about boiling some water.

[quinloki]

Some Direction

Fem Reader x Roronoa Zoro

CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd 18+ only

Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -

Chapter 15: Festive Route

"If you're worried about crowds, then you should consider going to the festival next week." Mihawk offers. "It's relatively small, and the crowds will be small. Going out in a controlled manner with a small group may help."

You had been back to work for a couple of days without incident. Zoro hadn't just escorted you to work, he had stayed with you the entire day. You were worried he'd be bored, but he had no issue finding a book to read, and he had been useful to have around when you were shelving books.

He got along well with Robin, seemed to be neutral toward Brook, and the only person who you thought was bothering him was Nami. Not that you thought she was trying to give him a hard time on purpose, it's that Nami talked. Zoro did not.

"We could invite one of your coworkers." Zoro suggests, and you know which one he means.

"I don't think I could invite Robin and not Nami." You admit with a smile. "Robin got a Matchbook while I was out, so it might not be a bad idea to invite her and her match and Nami. It would create a good opportunity all around." You glance at Zoro. "Is that okay?"

He nods. "If you think it'll be for the best."

You smile warmly. "I'll keep Nami from pestering you too much. That'll give me something to focus on other than the people." You were in your phone, sending out a group text, and see how well things would come together. "I haven't been to a street festival in a long time."

"They used to be quite the activity for young people." Mihawk states. "Once the Government stepped in and altered the need for dating, the activity has become more for children and their parents."

Some Matches would go out on dates, and a few schools of thought recommended going on regular dates even after you were married. It helped people bond, but the kind of almost spontaneous dates of Middle and High School students were a thing of the past. Most activities that had been popular among those age groups had either adjusted to the new times or faded into obscurity. Festivals had adjusted, but most festivals had been a mix of couples and families and friends long before things changed, so the fact that they survived wasn't surprising.

You made a face and twitched as you got a string of texts back from Nami. The sound you made was a mix of displeasure and uncertainty and Zoro looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"Nami wants to have everyone wear Yukata." You sigh and look up to the ceiling.

"It's not too cold yet."

"No. It isn't." You admit.

"Don't have one?"

"Huurgh." You make a displeased sound again. "No, I do."

"Ah." Zoro says finally. "You dislike Yukata."

"I dislike the fuss that comes with them." You clarify. Yukata on their own were fine, and comfortable, but ladies tended to wear brighter colors, and get all dolled up, especially for a festival, and you were very sure that Nami wouldn't let you hear the end of it if you let the opportunity pass you by.

You sigh in utter defeat. "It's literally a special occasion though, all things considered, so...ssssuuu-rr-hey Zoro, do you dislike Yukata?" You realize your voice is almost hopeful.

"No, I like them." He responds without looking at you.

"Of course you do," you grumble a little, sending your text to Nami and Robin and agreeing to wear Yukata to the street festival. There were a couple more days of work to do before it happened, and that was at least enough time to get yours unpacked and sorted out.

. . . .

Nami, Robin, and Robin's match, a stern-faced fresh-out-of-med school young man named Trafalgar Law, had met up at the dojo prior to the festival. Nami had decided it would be easier for the three ladies to get ready if they could help each other do their hair, and admittedly you had to agree. Your hair would've been in a bun if Nami was lucky, and a ponytail if you hadn't felt like anything more.

Law and Zoro seemed to get along well-enough, mostly because neither bothered to say anything more to the other than was necessary, and both had the same seemingly well-practiced 'neutral scowl' down cold. You wouldn't be surprised if the two ended up as drinking buddies, if they got the chance to know one another better.

Utilizing your nearly unused room, the three of you got ready for the festival together. It was a small, but efficient flurry of make-up, hair pins, simple hair ornaments, and a little fussing over the finer details of each other's outfits, while gossiping a bit about the two currently omitted men who were out in the family room.

"Are things going smoothly for you, Robin?" You ask, your eyes closed as Nami promises a light touch on the makeup she's applying.

Robin hums positively. "He's busy getting his feet under him as a new surgeon, but he's certainly kind enough. His uncle and my mother also seemed to get along quite well." She muses, a happy smile on her face.

"Uncle?"

"It's a bit complicated, but Rosinante raised Law most of his life, and was legally his guardian." She explains. "He's not really his uncle, but that's the term they use."

"Robin can handle herself well enough, (Y/N)." Nami says sternly, poking you in the shoulder as she finishes up. "You always fold too easy. How are you getting along with your match?"

You're not really sure how to put it into words, given how wild things had been. It was hard to translate the comfort of all the quiet moments, of the feeling of warmth. You were fairly certain Nami would laugh herself into hysterics if you told her you had likened him to the sun on more than one occasion.

Apparently, your facial expression was enough for Nami and Robin.

"Oh." Nami says, her eyebrows rising slightly.

"It seems our concerns were completely unfounded." Robin adds with a bemused tone in her voice.

"You sure you don't want a little more makeup, (Y/N)?" Nami's eyes take on a mischievous edge.

"I didn't want any makeup, this is the compromise, Nami." You reply sternly. "Are we good?"

"Yes, and yes." She answers, and the three of you file out of your room and head to the family room where Zoro and Law are waiting.

Robin enters first, and you could see the flash of approval on Law's face, even if the slackness in his jaw didn't last for long. You had come to appreciate quiet connections like that, a little different from the more overt overtures that seemed more prevalent in songs and shows.

"Hey, Marimo, I expect proper thanks for my work." Nami states, causing the scowl to deepen on Zoro's face for a moment before she turns his attention to you.

For the first time in a long time, it was hard for you to sort out what his reaction was. Though after a second you realized he was struggling to keep his face neutral, and you assumed that he just hadn't wanted to give himself away in front of Nami.

"Are we ready?" You question, looking over the whole group. "The bus'll be by soon, we should head that way. It's just a couple stops away, but I figure that would be easier than walking, since Nami so kindly suggested Yukata." You say pointedly.

"Please, no one else here is complaining." Nami shoots back with an exaggerated 'humph'.

Everyone begins to file out and you smile at Zoro as the two of you fall behind a little. He offers his hand to help you get down the front steps, and now that you're closer to him you can feel his body tense.

"You okay?" You ask quietly.

"... Yeah."

"You sure? You seem on edge." You don't normally question his statements, but his behavior is a little different from usual.

"I am." He admits. Leaning down he whispers in your ear. "The Yukata looks good on you."

You feel the heat rise up in your face as he continues on ahead.

"Ah, y-you too!" You practically squeak, catching up to him as he opens the small door for you. "Your Yukata suits you well."

Stepping out through the gate for the first time in a long time wasn't as bad as you expected. Having Zoro distract you probably didn't hurt, but you found you were even relaxed on the bus. Talking with Nami and Robin mostly, with quiet assurances from Zoro and Law that they weren't spaced out. The whole outing was mostly for your benefit, but you wanted everyone to have a good time.

The festival was beautiful, for something so small. The stalls that lined the street were bright and cheerful, paper lanterns providing strings of soft light - enough to make the area safe without being so bright as to blot out the evening sky overhead.

There was music, food, games, and the crowds weren't all that heavy either. Because you and your friends were in Yukatas, you weren't dashing around madly here and there, and the relaxed pace also helped put you at ease. Your fingers stayed laced comfortably in Zoro's, and you were pleased to see a similar comfortable connection between Robin and Law. Hopefully things would progress as easily for Nami, when her Matchbook arrived.

Nami had taken over as a kind of group director, deciding where to go and what to see, and everything fell into a pace. One that caused you to zone out for a little bit.

Zoro had left to find a bathroom, and Law and Robin had excused themselves to go learn more about a concert - some extra event for the night at the end of the festival. When you looked around you couldn't see Nami, and before you could try and sort out what to do a small surge in the crowd shuffled you away from the booth you had been waiting by.

It was hard to keep your feet planted when wearing geta. Especially since all your practice in wearing them amounted to a few hours prior to today. They weren't uncomfortable, but there was a skill to it that you didn't quite have. The last thing you wanted to do was lose your footing and end up on your rear in the midst of a bustle of people.

You managed to scramble away from the surging crowd, but you weren't really sure where you had ended up. Since you'd left where to go up to Nami, you hadn't been paying good attention to the overall layout of things. Patting about your outfit you realize that you had not brought your phone with you. With an internal and external sigh, you realize that it's sitting on the dresser in your room.

You decide to stand near-ish the crowd, but far enough back you could scan for either Zoro, or Nami's distinct hair colors, or maybe even Law's you-were-never-gonna-tell-him-it-was-adorable, adorable hat.

You were a little nervous as the minutes ticked away, but panicking or trying to find everyone else from inside the crowd seemed like it would just make things worse. Something prickled at the back of your neck, and you looked over to see a group of young men walking toward you. You moved a little closer to the crowd, but their movements and body language already had you shifting to defend yourself. If you hadn't been in a Yukata – dammit Nami – you'd be in running shoes, and already in the crowd.

"You look like you could use some company, Miss." one of the four said slyly, his intent clear.

"I'm matched." You kept your voice even, but there was already anger on your face. "So, I already have company."

The laws could be pretty fierce about dating after being matched, or even alluding to ideas associated with dating. People would often have to attest to long standing friendships in order to avoid automatic issues with law enforcement. Stalkers and harassers could see severe penalties as well, far worse than with unmatched citizens. You were suddenly aware that in light of everything else that had happened you and Zoro hadn't exchanged tokens as a sign of being engaged.

"A ringless match? You can just say you're shy, lady." Another of the men pipes up as they all drew closer.

"I'm not shy, and I'm not lying." Your hackles were up, and you weren't even trying to be polite at this point. "Back off."

"Couples don't come to festivals," one of them says darkly. "Just families and girls in yukata lookin' to be made more worldly before they're matched." He leers at you, licking his lips.

Your hand went up, heel of your palm into his chin as hard as you could, clamping his teeth against his tongue and sending him staggering back a couple steps.

"I said I'm matched!" You yell at him, trying not to feel bad for the blood coming from his lips.

The angry look in his eyes made you wilt a little, and his friends seemed to be aligned with his thoughts. He didn't even say anything as the other two came at you, guards raised, trying to grab you without getting hit. One of them got a hold of your wrist and twisted it, but you managed to drive your geta into the ankle of the other before you lost your balance. You grunt from the sharp pain in your wrist, and realize you're not going to get out of this easily.

You were getting ready to scream when suddenly the two nearest you were yanked away. Law and Zoro had pulled them back and the 3rd guy, the one with the bloody mouth, was growling curses - Zoro had twisted his arm around by his thumb and wasn't letting go.

The look on Zoro's face was objectively terrifying. He wasn't looking at you, he was glaring at the guy who had twisted your wrist. From the look on that man's face, he was regretting most of his life choices. He'd gone so pale so fast you were expecting him to pass out.

"I told them I was matched." You tone was angry, even if you were relieved to have been found. "Twice! Assholes!"

"Ew 'lit mah tung!(You split my tongue!)" The man at Zoro's mercy tries to talk, but his bitten tongue was swelling.

"It was three against one," Law interjects. "It would've been within reason for her to break your jaw." His tone of voice suggests he willing to do just that on your behalf.

"You okay?" Zoro asks, when he looks at you his expression is hard, but not terrifying.

"I'm fine. I'm just mad." You admit, a scowl on your face. "The crowd surged, and I lost Nami and I was trying to find someone before I went back into the streets, and then these..." You choose swear words from the language you knew Zoro knew. "Showed up and wouldn't listen."

"What should we do?" Robin questions, her voice the usual almost otherworldly calm she manages to always have.

You rubbed your wrist, it was red and was going to bruise tomorrow, but it didn't look too bad right now. It certainly wasn't broken, but it was going to be tender for a while.

"They'll live." Law says flatly. "We don't need to get them to a hospital."

"You want to file a report, (Y/N)?" Nami asks.

"I have to." You admit. "Officer Smoker would be furious if I didn't. I mean, they're not connected to all that other stuff, but-."

"Yeah." Zoro agrees, holding the one guy by his shirt, the other still by his thumb. "It could help."

Your group got the attention of an officer, and everyone gave statements. It wasn't the best event for your festival night out but given how your luck had been with the outside world it wasn't the worst event in the last two months either.

After the incident was handled you were able to make it to the concert at the end of the festival. Robin and Law had bought tickets for everyone and had come back to Nami panicking because she couldn't find you. Law had spotted Zoro stomping off in a direction with a scowl on his face and had followed after him. The rest was as you had known it.

Nami apologized, but you wouldn't hear it. The whole deal wasn't her fault, or anyone else's, and honestly things had ended well. You defended yourself, and you hadn't panicked. You'd have to thank Mihawk for all the training and frankly the byproduct of all the therapy he'd accidentally provided over the last month. Or purposefully. The older man was wise enough, it wouldn't surprise you if he'd done more than just teach you to fight.

It was late when you got back home. Zoro didn't let go of your good hand for the rest of the evening. You were always either in front of him or right beside him. It was sweet, but you worried a little that you'd have trouble doing work at the library if he was determined to hold your hand for forever. You hadn't asked him how he was doing, only because you knew he wouldn't want to admit to anything in front of the others.

When you got inside the gate you finally asked him. "Are you okay?"

He looks away for a moment and then turns and hugs you. "Yeah. I was mad at Nami for a minute." He admits quietly. "And myself. But you were right, it wasn't anyone's fault." He leans back looking down at you with a pleased look on his face. "You hurt someone. On purpose."

Your face went flat, along with your tone. "You're not supposed to praise someone for that, and it was in self-defense."

"Mm. Next you'll be competing."

You remember the conversation from the official first meeting and your face goes red. "You're teasing me!" You gasp and are rewarded with a smile from him before he kisses the top of your head.

"A little." He admits, and there's a warm pleasant sound that escapes him.

"Humph. I was going to ask you to help me with my Yukata, but I'll sort it out on my own. Teasing me like that." You pout and start toward the doors.

You can feel the amused grin forming on his face and are only a little surprised as he easily scoops you up into his arms. With easy movements he had you over one shoulder so he could get the door.

"Zoro!" Your voice has some urgency to it as your face goes red, but you're not trying to wake Mihawk so your exclamation comes out more like a hiss. He's steadying you against his shoulder with his hand palming almost your entire ass and the idea of being seen this way is embarrassing.

"Quiet, or you'll wake the house." Zoro admonishes you, his hand squeezing your rear. You make a noise, and cover your mouth, but you hold onto him without further protest as he marches both of you to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

Next Chapter

[mugiwara-no-toshokan]

Some Direction

CisFem Reader x Roronoa Zoro

CW: Language, stalking, violence, sexual themes and situations, ptsd -- surprisingly fluffy despite it all. 18+ only

Chapter 15: Festive Route

"If you're worried about crowds, then you should consider going to the festival next week." Mihawk offers. "It's relatively small, and the crowds will be small. Going out in a controlled manner with a small group may help."

You had been back to work for a couple of days without incident. Zoro hadn't just escorted you to work, he had stayed with you the entire day. You were worried he'd be bored, but he had no issue finding a book to read, and he had been useful to have around when you were shelving books.

He got along well with Robin, seemed to be neutral toward Brook, and the only person who you thought was bothering him was Nami. Not that you thought she was trying to give him a hard time on purpose, it's that Nami talked. Zoro did not.

"We could invite one of your coworkers." Zoro suggests, and you know which one he means.

"I don't think I could invite Robin and not Nami." You admit with a smile. "Robin got a Matchbook while I was out, so it might not be a bad idea to invite her and her match and Nami. It would create a good opportunity all around." You glance at Zoro. "Is that okay?"

He nods. "If you think it'll be for the best."

You smile warmly. "I'll keep Nami from pestering you too much. That'll give me something to focus on other than the people." You were in your phone, sending out a group text, and see how well things would come together. "I haven't been to a street festival in a long time."

"They used to be quite the activity for young people." Mihawk states. "Once the Government stepped in and altered the need for dating, the activity has become more for children and their parents."

Some Matches would go out on dates, and a few schools of thought recommended going on regular dates even after you were married. It helped people bond, but the kind of almost spontaneous dates of Middle and High School students were a thing of the past. Most activities that had been popular among those age groups had either adjusted to the new times or faded into obscurity. Festivals had adjusted, but most festivals had been a mix of couples and families and friends long before things changed, so the fact that they survived wasn't surprising.

You made a face and twitched as you got a string of texts back from Nami. The sound you made was a mix of displeasure and uncertainty and Zoro looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"Nami wants to have everyone wear Yukata." You sigh and look up to the ceiling.

"It's not too cold yet."

"No. It isn't." You admit.

"Don't have one?"

"Huurgh." You make a displeased sound again. "No, I do."

"Ah." Zoro says finally. "You dislike Yukata."

"I dislike the fuss that comes with them." You clarify. Yukata on their own were fine, and comfortable, but ladies tended to wear brighter colors, and get all dolled up, especially for a festival, and you were very sure that Nami wouldn't let you hear the end of it if you let the opportunity pass you by.

You sigh in utter defeat. "It's literally a special occasion though, all things considered, so...ssssuuu-rr-hey Zoro, do you dislike Yukata?" You realize your voice is almost hopeful.

"No, I like them." He responds without looking at you.

"Of course you do," you grumble a little, sending your text to Nami and Robin and agreeing to wear Yukata to the street festival. There were a couple more days of work to do before it happened, and that was at least enough time to get yours unpacked and sorted out.

. . . .

Nami, Robin, and Robin's match, a stern-faced fresh-out-of-med school young man named Trafalgar Law, had met up at the dojo prior to the festival. Nami had decided it would be easier for the three ladies to get ready if they could help each other do their hair, and admittedly you had to agree. Your hair would've been in a bun if Nami was lucky, and a ponytail if you hadn't felt like anything more.

Law and Zoro seemed to get along well-enough, mostly because neither bothered to say anything more to the other than was necessary, and both had the same seemingly well-practiced 'neutral scowl' down cold. You wouldn't be surprised if the two ended up as drinking buddies, if they got the chance to know one another better.

Utilizing your nearly unused room, the three of you got ready for the festival together. It was a small, but efficient flurry of make-up, hair pins, simple hair ornaments, and a little fussing over the finer details of each other's outfits, while gossiping a bit about the two currently omitted men who were out in the family room.

"Are things going smoothly for you, Robin?" You ask, your eyes closed as Nami promises a light touch on the makeup she's applying.

Robin hums positively. "He's busy getting his feet under him as a new surgeon, but he's certainly kind enough. His uncle and my mother also seemed to get along quite well." She muses, a happy smile on her face.

"Uncle?"

"It's a bit complicated, but Rosinante raised Law most of his life, and was legally his guardian." She explains. "He's not really his uncle, but that's the term they use."

"Robin can handle herself well enough, (Y/N)." Nami says sternly, poking you in the shoulder as she finishes up. "You always fold too easy. How are you getting along with your match?"

You're not really sure how to put it into words, given how wild things had been. It was hard to translate the comfort of all the quiet moments, of the feeling of warmth. You were fairly certain Nami would laugh herself into hysterics if you told her you had likened him to the sun on more than one occasion.

Apparently, your facial expression was enough for Nami and Robin.

"Oh." Nami says, her eyebrows rising slightly.

"It seems our concerns were completely unfounded." Robin adds with a bemused tone in her voice.

"You sure you don't want a little more makeup, (Y/N)?" Nami's eyes take on a mischievous edge.

"I didn't want any makeup, this is the compromise, Nami." You reply sternly. "Are we good?"

"Yes, and yes." She answers, and the three of you file out of your room and head to the family room where Zoro and Law are waiting.

Robin enters first, and you could see the flash of approval on Law's face, even if the slackness in his jaw didn't last for long. You had come to appreciate quiet connections like that, a little different from the more overt overtures that seemed more prevalent in songs and shows.

"Hey, Marimo, I expect proper thanks for my work." Nami states, causing the scowl to deepen on Zoro's face for a moment before she turns his attention to you.

For the first time in a long time, it was hard for you to sort out what his reaction was. Though after a second you realized he was struggling to keep his face neutral, and you assumed that he just hadn't wanted to give himself away in front of Nami.

"Are we ready?" You question, looking over the whole group. "The bus'll be by soon, we should head that way. It's just a couple stops away, but I figure that would be easier than walking, since Nami so kindly suggested Yukata." You say pointedly.

"Please, no one else here is complaining." Nami shoots back with an exaggerated 'humph'.

Everyone begins to file out and you smile at Zoro as the two of you fall behind a little. He offers his hand to help you get down the front steps, and now that you're closer to him you can feel his body tense.

"You okay?" You ask quietly.

"... Yeah."

"You sure? You seem on edge." You don't normally question his statements, but his behavior is a little different from usual.

"I am." He admits. Leaning down he whispers in your ear. "The Yukata looks good on you."

You feel the heat rise up in your face as he continues on ahead.

"Ah, y-you too!" You practically squeak, catching up to him as he opens the small door for you. "Your Yukata suits you well."

Stepping out through the gate for the first time in a long time wasn't as bad as you expected. Having Zoro distract you probably didn't hurt, but you found you were even relaxed on the bus. Talking with Nami and Robin mostly, with quiet assurances from Zoro and Law that they weren't spaced out. The whole outing was mostly for your benefit, but you wanted everyone to have a good time.

The festival was beautiful, for something so small. The stalls that lined the street were bright and cheerful, paper lanterns providing strings of soft light - enough to make the area safe without being so bright as to blot out the evening sky overhead.

There was music, food, games, and the crowds weren't all that heavy either. Because you and your friends were in Yukatas, you weren't dashing around madly here and there, and the relaxed pace also helped put you at ease. Your fingers stayed laced comfortably in Zoro's, and you were pleased to see a similar comfortable connection between Robin and Law. Hopefully things would progress as easily for Nami, when her Matchbook arrived.

Nami had taken over as a kind of group director, deciding where to go and what to see, and everything fell into a pace. One that caused you to zone out for a little bit.

Zoro had left to find a bathroom, and Law and Robin had excused themselves to go learn more about a concert - some extra event for the night at the end of the festival. When you looked around you couldn't see Nami, and before you could try and sort out what to do a small surge in the crowd shuffled you away from the booth you had been waiting by.

It was hard to keep your feet planted when wearing geta. Especially since all your practice in wearing them amounted to a few hours prior to today. They weren't uncomfortable, but there was a skill to it that you didn't quite have. The last thing you wanted to do was lose your footing and end up on your rear in the midst of a bustle of people.

You managed to scramble away from the surging crowd, but you weren't really sure where you had ended up. Since you'd left where to go up to Nami, you hadn't been paying good attention to the overall layout of things. Patting about your outfit you realize that you had not brought your phone with you. With an internal and external sigh, you realize that it's sitting on the dresser in your room.

You decide to stand near-ish the crowd, but far enough back you could scan for either Zoro, or Nami's distinct hair colors, or maybe even Law's you-were-never-gonna-tell-him-it-was-adorable, adorable hat.

You were a little nervous as the minutes ticked away, but panicking or trying to find everyone else from inside the crowd seemed like it would just make things worse. Something prickled at the back of your neck, and you looked over to see a group of young men walking toward you. You moved a little closer to the crowd, but their movements and body language already had you shifting to defend yourself. If you hadn't been in a Yukata – dammit Nami – you'd be in running shoes, and already in the crowd.

"You look like you could use some company, Miss." one of the four said slyly, his intent clear.

"I'm matched." You kept your voice even, but there was already anger on your face. "So, I already have company."

The laws could be pretty fierce about dating after being matched, or even alluding to ideas associated with dating. People would often have to attest to long standing friendships in order to avoid automatic issues with law enforcement. Stalkers and harassers could see severe penalties as well, far worse than with unmatched citizens. You were suddenly aware that in light of everything else that had happened you and Zoro hadn't exchanged tokens as a sign of being engaged.

"A ringless match? You can just say you're shy, lady." Another of the men pipes up as they all drew closer.

"I'm not shy, and I'm not lying." Your hackles were up, and you weren't even trying to be polite at this point. "Back off."

"Couples don't come to festivals," one of them says darkly. "Just families and girls in yukata lookin' to be made more worldly before they're matched." He leers at you, licking his lips.

Your hand went up, heel of your palm into his chin as hard as you could, clamping his teeth against his tongue and sending him staggering back a couple steps.

"I said I'm matched!" You yell at him, trying not to feel bad for the blood coming from his lips.

The angry look in his eyes made you wilt a little, and his friends seemed to be aligned with his thoughts. He didn't even say anything as the other two came at you, guards raised, trying to grab you without getting hit. One of them got a hold of your wrist and twisted it, but you managed to drive your geta into the ankle of the other before you lost your balance. You grunt from the sharp pain in your wrist, and realize you're not going to get out of this easily.

You were getting ready to scream when suddenly the two nearest you were yanked away. Law and Zoro had pulled them back and the 3rd guy, the one with the bloody mouth, was growling curses - Zoro had twisted his arm around by his thumb and wasn't letting go.

The look on Zoro's face was objectively terrifying. He wasn't looking at you, he was glaring at the guy who had twisted your wrist. From the look on that man's face, he was regretting most of his life choices. He'd gone so pale so fast you were expecting him to pass out.

"I told them I was matched." You tone was angry, even if you were relieved to have been found. "Twice! Assholes!"

"Ew 'lit mah tung!(You split my tongue!)" The man at Zoro's mercy tries to talk, but his bitten tongue was swelling.

"It was three against one," Law interjects. "It would've been within reason for her to break your jaw." His tone of voice suggests he willing to do just that on your behalf.

"You okay?" Zoro asks, when he looks at you his expression is hard, but not terrifying.

"I'm fine. I'm just mad." You admit, a scowl on your face. "The crowd surged, and I lost Nami and I was trying to find someone before I went back into the streets, and then these..." You choose swear words from the language you knew Zoro knew. "Showed up and wouldn't listen."

"What should we do?" Robin questions, her voice the usual almost otherworldly calm she manages to always have.

You rubbed your wrist, it was red and was going to bruise tomorrow, but it didn't look too bad right now. It certainly wasn't broken, but it was going to be tender for a while.

"They'll live." Law says flatly. "We don't need to get them to a hospital."

"You want to file a report, (Y/N)?" Nami asks.

"I have to." You admit. "Officer Smoker would be furious if I didn't. I mean, they're not connected to all that other stuff, but-."

"Yeah." Zoro agrees, holding the one guy by his shirt, the other still by his thumb. "It could help."

Your group got the attention of an officer, and everyone gave statements. It wasn't the best event for your festival night out but given how your luck had been with the outside world it wasn't the worst event in the last two months either.

After the incident was handled you were able to make it to the concert at the end of the festival. Robin and Law had bought tickets for everyone and had come back to Nami panicking because she couldn't find you. Law had spotted Zoro stomping off in a direction with a scowl on his face and had followed after him. The rest was as you had known it.

Nami apologized, but you wouldn't hear it. The whole deal wasn't her fault, or anyone else's, and honestly things had ended well. You defended yourself, and you hadn't panicked. You'd have to thank Mihawk for all the training and frankly the byproduct of all the therapy he'd accidentally provided over the last month. Or purposefully. The older man was wise enough, it wouldn't surprise you if he'd done more than just teach you to fight.

It was late when you got back home. Zoro didn't let go of your good hand for the rest of the evening. You were always either in front of him or right beside him. It was sweet, but you worried a little that you'd have trouble doing work at the library if he was determined to hold your hand for forever. You hadn't asked him how he was doing, only because you knew he wouldn't want to admit to anything in front of the others.

When you got inside the gate you finally asked him. "Are you okay?"

He looks away for a moment and then turns and hugs you. "Yeah. I was mad at Nami for a minute." He admits quietly. "And myself. But you were right, it wasn't anyone's fault." He leans back looking down at you with a pleased look on his face. "You hurt someone. On purpose."

Your face went flat, along with your tone. "You're not supposed to praise someone for that, and it was in self-defense."

"Mm. Next you'll be competing."

You remember the conversation from the official first meeting and your face goes red. "You're teasing me!" You gasp and are rewarded with a smile from him before he kisses the top of your head.

"A little." He admits, and there's a warm pleasant sound that escapes him.

"Humph. I was going to ask you to help me with my Yukata, but I'll sort it out on my own. Teasing me like that." You pout and start toward the doors.

You can feel the amused grin forming on his face and are only a little surprised as he easily scoops you up into his arms. With easy movements he had you over one shoulder so he could get the door.

"Zoro!" Your voice has some urgency to it as your face goes red, but you're not trying to wake Mihawk so your exclamation comes out more like a hiss. He's steadying you against his shoulder with his hand palming almost your entire ass and the idea of being seen this way is embarrassing.

"Quiet, or you'll wake the house." Zoro admonishes you, his hand squeezing your rear. You make a noise, and cover your mouth, but you hold onto him without further protest as he marches both of you to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

[cryopathiic-a]

To say that Inosuke's blood was boiling was quite the understatement. He seemed ready to explode as he sat in his chair, wrists virtually glued to the armrests as the lady before him painted his freshly cleaned nails into a deep, blood-red color.

Oh, he should have knowns this was a trap when rainbow-eyes promised to treat him later. He should never have walked past those doors.

The incessant cackle of voices was nothing short of insufferable. Honey, did you know? No, she didn't, and Douma was probably about to tell her. And I was like, "no waaaaaay!" Yes way, moron.

Inosuke rolled his eyes as slowly as he could manage. What was stopping him from breaking these lady's fingers, breaking out of this place, and setting fire to the entire mall?

"Uncurl those little fingers, young man." The lady told him off in a stern voice, inbetween two giggles at whatever delightful tale the blond young man was telling. Inosuke bit so hard into his lip that he drew blood.

Something prickled at the back of his head. The man was looking at him. As Inosuke allowed the words to reach his ears again, what little he caught immediately sent his rage off the meters. Something about the boars. The mud, the dirt, the benevolence one had to have to reach out to such a dirty hand, and offer it the roof it had always sought.

There was a shriek as Inosuke ripped his hand free and grabbed the vial of nail polish. The liquid spilled from its container as Inosuke chucked the bottle right at Douma, very much hoping that it would not only land right in his stupid face, but also stain his stupid clothes – and with some luck, spill into his stupid mouth as well.

He still remembers her eyes.

Big, doe-like, filled with wonder. Their color; a deep green like forest trees with veins of emerald and glimmering gold; the sort of thing you can only find on ancient temple statues and be humbled before the beauty that can come from mere earthly rocks. Thick lashes laden with tears. Her dillated pupils had harbored his reflection, her lips, soft and puffy, had donned that final gasp so delicately. And then—

Every tme he looks at that child serves as a reminder of that night.

Dōma tends to avoid it. His days are flooded with activities that leave little space for mulling over several themes in his life; and more often than not, the menace in his custody gets dragged along for the ride. The smile stretches further on his visage, facing his appointed nail lady with near unblinking elation. Eternal Paradise has several business fronts. This salon is just one of many. And Mei-Mei here, she has known Dōma since he was about Inosuke's age.

❝ She was absurd about it, Auntie. ❞ As most of the older women in the Family were often referred to. ❝ We aren't even together and she expects a full report of my day and night? It reads a little toxic, in my opinion. ❞

" She is insecure, being next to a man like you. But that's nothing new, for a woman. Men like to be mothered and some women pick up on that and think it applies to everyone. You don't need this kind of energy in your life, honey, take it from me. Right now... " She nods towards Inosuke. " — you should be focusing on stability. I've been married seven years and I know first hand what it takes to raise a child. You need a partner that can show up, not add more fuss to your life. " The 'Auntie' comments nonchalantly, whilst glossing over his pinky. It is held up in her hardened grip, confessing to a lifetime of toil. Dōma's flawless skin is a stark juxtaposition; as is the blase look he wears whilst browsing through his Instagram feed.

❝ Mhm. ❞ Nonchalantly, prismatic eyes traverse the room for the one in question. Inosuke is seething on the manicure chair, just as Auntie's colleague, another girl from the cult that was offered a job here, tries to reason with the kid. A huff slips through Dōma's teeth. The woman lowers her voice, leaning a bit closer over the manicure table.

"How is it going, with the little one? " Dōma purses his lips.

❝ Ah... there's been some challenges. He has learned so many misconceptions, out there with the boars and whatnot— but it's a slow pro-- ❞

Hushed words cut with the abrupt movement from somewhere in the room. The girl lets out a squeak when something is flung across in the Dōma's direction; it's cool and thick when it connects. A spritz of red paints the counter and drips down his chin onto his silk shirt. The fabric stains crimson. Dōma's eyelids flicker in effort to push a droplet out.

"Good gracious heavens!" 'Auntie' exclaims. She turns harshly towards the girl that sits stunted on her knees. "Well don't just stare like that, go, fetch towels!" What other clients were present in the background are roused; coming to Dōma's aid. Within a couple of labored blinks he is surrounded by warm towels, wipes and a glass of water — as if the entire ordeal would have shocked his throat dry. But the man merely looks down, demurely tapping at the fresh stain in his lap. He reaches for the bottle, but someone gets it for him first, with the expected word of reassurance.

Don't worry about it. How can I help?

I'm so sorry! Would you like me to rub it clean?

Oh, what a disaster! Lord Founder, I can wash your shirt for you!

Is there something you need? What can I get you?

They flock to him; drawn into the humility of such a measured reaction. The most appropriate one, some might say, when dealing with a problem child. 'Auntie' spares Inosuke a scolding word in the meantime; something about messing up her salon. Only then does Dōma seem to perk up — quick to brush past the people crowding his seat and interject.

❝ I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, 'Auntie', I will send someone to clean up this mess, okay? I apologize for the mess and the inconvenience. But I think we should just go. Inosuke, where is your coat— ❞ He begins to shuffle about, knowing well the child most likely would reject putting it on in either case.

"Don't apologize-- are you sure you don't need us to drop you off somewhere--"

❝ No, that's fine.It's fine. I'll just call Nara to come pick us up. ❞

And that he would. Without a second look towards the child. Without so much as a scoff.