#{ playing this one by ear 🎶 replies 🎶 }

[galeforged]

"Hey, you look really familiar for some reason... Your name is Forwin, right?"

Ah yes, no cause for alarm here! After all, it's only the absolute worst series of words he could possibly hear from an Adrestian noble. From her name and her own familiar appearance... yes, he knew her too, a whole other life ago: the one he left behind.

They only met, what, once? Maybe twice, before the Insurrection went down? Yet Hillevi would be the one to recognize him?!

If there were some small comfort Forwin could possibly glean from this, it was that she was mindful enough to approach him in relative privacy... but shy of his whole charade falling apart, it did little to ease his nerves. Professor Eisner really couldn't have chosen to teach the Blue Lions or the Golden Deer this year, could they?

"Y-yes, that's my name... Forwin Tyrell, o-of Leicester." Totally not suspicious to namedrop his supposed homeland, just a perfectly normal introduction aside from the one he and the other Ashen Wolves gave to her class. Surely he only happened to have one of those faces, right?

...right?

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Blue Flame - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Frat!Rafe x Reader x Reader’s Best Friend

(Rafe is interested in the reader romantically)

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 frat!rafe, swearing, name-calling, drinking, drug usage, pet names (daddy, doll, baby, babygirl etc, degradation, threesome, rough oral, teasing, throat fucking, cum play, oral receiving (female), public fondling, ownership kink if you squint, switch!rafe x dom!reader x dom female, spitting, Rafe is more interested in the reader than her friend

📖 Frat!Rafe x Reader x Reader’s friend based off of the lyrics from “Already Best Friends”. College student/former stripper reader has a crush on frat president Rafe. When she calls a buddy in, during a frat party, they have a little fun 💕

✨ “That’s right… And in an hour, you and I are gonna come back up here, and you’re gonna give me a private show. I want you to dance for me, y/n. Then, I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress.” ✨

3K <- mostly smut

🎶 She brought a buddy in

“What you studying?”

“Education, that’s where the money is.”

“You think you funny, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m the funniest.”

“So what about you?”

Her friend replied, “I don’t go to school.”

“Okay, what you do?”

“I’m a dancer, and quick question, are you a cancer?”

I said, “Hell nah, where you dance at?”

She said, “Blue flame, that shit be jam-packed.” 🎶

Cali: where are you, babe?

YN: outside come out here please

Cali: whats goin on

YN: hot tub

Cali: say less 💕

Cali: anyone out there with you?

YN: that guy 🤭 the one I was telling you abt. He’s out here

Cali: Rafe???

Cali: oh shit

YN: you wanna have a little fun

Cali: always ☺️

Reader’s POV:

“What are you two up to?” Cali asks as she walks across the deck toward the two of you. The hot tub had cleared out, leaving you and Rafe behind.

“Just smokin’, sweetheart’,” Rafe smiles, fishing out a joint from behind his ear.

“Wanna join?” You ask your bestie, who’s already stripping down to her bra and panties.

Cali chuckles and roll her eyes. “Obviously,” she breathes as she steps in, choosing a seat on the other side of you, putting you right in the middle. Rafe flicks his BIC, blazing up a joint before taking a haul. He releases his smoke up high, puffing once more before passing it to her.

Cali accepts, taking it between her plush lips. She rips the weed, letting the smoke pour from her mouth. “This is good shit,” she smiles, eyeing it between her fingers before shifting her emerald-green gaze your way. “Well, thanks for the invite, y/n; I hope I’m not interrupting. The two of you look pretty comfy.”

“Oh, please… I invited you, baby,” you smile, picking the joint off her fingers.

”‘Course… Shit. The more the merrier,“ Rafe adds, his voice already raspy from the smoke. “And, this is my shit… It better be fuckin’ good.” He eyes the fat joint in his large fingers, his gold ring shining bright.

“Smokin’ out of your own stash?” You tease, sliding a little closer to Rafe than you already were. His eyes drift from your lips to your chest; your Calvin Klein bra almost entirely see-through, giving him a tease. You smile even wider when his next couple words get stuck on his lips.

“Umm… Quality control?” He grins, his hazed blue eyes matching yours again, giving you butterflies. “I’m Rafe, by the way.” His focus shifts to Cali.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Rafe. I’m Cali. So, you run this place. Huh?” She chuckles lightly, swirling her finger around, gesturing to the party raging around you.

“Yeah… I’m the president-”

“Ooooh, fancy,” she adds, teasing him playfully as he drops his position in the house. Rafe smiles and shakes his head, looking away for a moment to collect himself, then back to you again.

“Hey, you asked. Aight? I wasn’t gonna drop titles.” He takes off his hat, brushing his wet hand through his dirty blonde hair before putting it back on. You swoon, seeing more of his handsome face: a chiseled jawline, perfect lips, and just the right amount of stubble. Cali squeezes your thigh, either catching you gawking or agreeing with you; this man is fucking fine.

“So, Y/n, what are you studying?” Rafe asks between sips of beer, looking your way. “I don’t think I ever asked – I mean, obviously we’re in that Comm class together. Is that your major?” You shake your head ‘no’. “Lemme guess then, yeah?” He looks at you, joint pinched between his lips, doing his best to get a read off you. “Education?”

You gasp and smile, “Mhmm… Education.”

“Heard that’s where the money is,” he teases, his smile widening as he sees your reaction. Rafe lifts the joint up high as you splash him with a little water, flirtingly.

“Well, what’s your major than, frat boy? Communications?”

“Nah, princess. I actually wanna make money one day.”

“You think you’re funny. Huh?”

“M’the funniest,” Rafe chuckles raspily before taking another hit, passing it to you.

“I’m sure you are, prez,” you challenge him as you lean in close — really fuckin’ close. Your mind starts to race along with your heart as you find yourself closer than you’ve ever been before, barely clothed, and soaking wet. “Well, let me guess now… Finance?”

Rafe shakes his head ‘no’ and smiles, “International Business.”

Cali looks over at you, eyes doubling as she sees your damp bra, joining the conversation again. “Fuck, bitch.” She reaches out, giving your tits a playful squeeze. “You look good, baby. Doesn’t she look good?” Cali asks, playing wingwoman as she looks over at Rafe with a smirk of approval for the man of your desires, his eyes never having left you in the first place.

“So fuckin’ good,” he smiles. You rest the joint on Cali’s lips with a smile. “So, what about you? What’s your major, Cali?”

“I don’t go to school,” she breathes through her exhale. “College is not for me.”

“Okay – okay, what do you do,” Rafe questions as he stretches his arm behind your shoulders, shifting even closer. You smile up at him, seating your hand on his thigh, making him bite his lip to fight back a smile.

“I’m a dancer – I work at Blue Flame downtown,” she adds. “This one did, too, before she declared her major. Fuckin’ bitch,” Cali bullies, flicking some water in your face in protest for leaving her behind for a higher education. “It’s not the same without you.”

“I miss it, honestly.”

“Guess you’ll just have to dance for your man instead.” Rafe’s mood shifts instantly, making Cali rush to assure him. “She doesn’t have a man. Her future man, Cameron. I’m sorry, baby. You looked like you were about to cry.”

“C’mon now,” Rafe snorts and laughs as Cali continues to give him shit. “I mean, yeah, I got a little disappointed. Can you blame me?”

“Not at all… She’s perfect. She’s my better half. Truly.”

You lean in, giving her a quick, playful kiss. “Love you, baby.”

“Shit, so you two are really close. Huh? I didn’t see you walk in with anybody. Better half? So, are you like dating or something?” Rafe asks, his curiosity peaked.

“Just besties,” you answer, with a giggle that has Cali joining in, falling onto your lap. Rafe cocks an eyebrow, clearly liking what he’s sees. Cali breaks the pattern of the smoke circle, passing the weed back to you. She straddles your lap, chest to chest with you. You take the weed between your lips, taking a hit. Cali leans in, the aroma of her vanilla perfume engulfing you as she moves closer, holding back just enough, letting you lean in the rest of the way. Your lips hover within mere centimeters of hers, casting smoke into her parted lips. She inhales without hesitation, taking it all. Her darkened eyes drift open, matching yours, the two of you putting on a show for Rafe.

”Well, fuck…” Rafe huffs. “So, uh… umm. Holy shit. What are – what are the two of you up to tonight?“ Rafe fumbles over his words again, too distracted with how pretty the two of you look together, his fantasies running wild. Cali shifts back, retaking a seat, the whole situation leaving you craving more. More of her, more of Rafe’s eyes on you. It’s the perfect storm. You look up at him, smiling, baiting him into the exchange as well.

“We can stay in here if you’d like, baby.”

“I mean, we don’t have to stay in here,” he answers hastily.

“Yeah? N’what do you want, Cameron?”

“Seems like you got somethin’ on your mind, prez,” Cali adds.

“Yeah, I got a few things on my mind,” he smirks. Rafe reaches over, resting the joint between your lips. You shut your eyes, relaxing as you toke nice and slow. Rafe’s large hand rests on your thigh. You place yours on top, guiding him in between your thighs. You repeat the same process with Rafe, his lips ghosting over the top of yours, accepting the shot. He stalls for a moment, just enough time to exhale. The next second, Rafe’s lips collide with yours, making you moan into his mouth when he cups your pussy. “This okay?” Rafe murmurs against your lips.

“Yeah,” you pant. He turns his eyes to Cali, posing the same question.

“Yes – Shit,” she answers, giddily.

“Can I?” Rafe asks, switching his eyes to her and back to you. “S’Okay if I kiss, Cali? I just – I was gettin’ this vibe that you liked me-”

“I do,” you stop him fast. “I like you… I like this, too,” you smile sweetly. “Let’s have a little fun tonight. We can talk about it later. Yeah?”

“Fuck, princess. Yeah – Damn… Whatever you want. I’m down.”

Rafe pulls Cali in by the waist, pressing his lips against hers. A smile stretches across your lips as you eye the placement of his hand, still reaching for you, not wanting to lose contact.

”Do you want to…“

“Come to your room?” Cali finished his sentence.

“Mhmm.”

“Please…” You sigh dreamily as your fingernails lightly scratch his clothed cockhead, his dick rock-hard underneath.

“Holy shit,” Rafe groans. “Let’s get outta here. Yeah?” He asks as he takes off his snapback, standing up carefully, covering his hard-on with his cap. Water drips off his muscular body, as he steps out of the warm tub. He slides on his Champion sweatshorts, tugging on a faded frat t-shirt. Rafe helps you out of the tub, doing his best not to gawk as he grabs your dry clothes off the ground. You turn toward Cali, pawing the water out of your hair, ass swallowing up your wet thong. You tug your sundress over your wet curves. Rafe pulls you in by your waist as Cali puts her garments back on. He leans down, kissing you nice and slow. “M’gettin’ your number after this. I’m serious. Are you free tomorrow night?”

You smile as you rise on your tippy toes, meeting his lip for another kiss. “I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I. Shittt… Let’s have a little fun. Yeah?”

The man’s already on cloud nine and all you did was kiss. You twine your fingers in Cali’s as Rafe leads you to his bedroom before shutting the door. You look back at Rafe, his lust-blown pupils locked on you. He’s soaking in this moment, studying the two of you carefully, taking into memory each detail.

Your tongue slips between Cali’s lips, swirling with hers. “Think your boy wants to watch for a bit,” Cali mumbles between kisses. Rafe continues to stare as he walks backward, feeling for a chair. The two of you strip off your dresses again. You crawl back onto the mattress as Cali slinks toward you, making your heart race. Cali lowers herself on top of you, kissing you deeply as your fingers rake into her hair.

Your head rolls to the side, meeting Rafe’s eyes as he palms himself through his sweats. Fuck, I wanna see his cock. “Co’mere. Please…” He begs, thinking he could wait but getting too impatient. Lucky me. You reach for the hem of his shirt, practically ripping the tee off his big frame as Cali watches on. Resting your hands on his chest, you push him back down to sit. He looks up wide-eyed, waiting for you to set the pace. Cali meets his lips; their kiss, messy and rushed, mouthwatering nonetheless, conjuring up something animalistic inside you.

You fall to your knees, slotting yourself between his big thighs. Rafe’s gold chain glints with every quick breath as Cali’s nails dig into his broad chest. Your hands drift lower and lower, goosebumps spreading across his tanned skin. You skim your fingers over the divots of his abs, following a slight trail of hair working below the waistband of his Champions. His hardened cock is aching to be freed, confined in his tight boxer briefs. A desperate moan from Cali snaps you out of your daze. You finger the waistband of his shorts, drawing all eyes to you again.

You push his sweats down his thighs, quickly tugging at his black briefs. Cali can’t help but pull back watching his dick swings out, smacking just below his belly button. Her eyes double, just as surprised as you at the sheer size of his cock. “Fuck, daddy,” she mumbles, returning her lips to his, the two of them kissing feverishly as their tongues battle for dominance.

You take hold of his thick dick, making Cali swallow his moan. Flattening your tongue, you glide it along his cock, catching the precum rolling slowly down the side. Rafe pulls away from their kiss, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, more interested in the attention you’re paying below than Cali’s lips on him.

Sinking down, you take as much of Rafe as you can, his fat cockhead pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You swirl slowly to his tip, watching his eyes roll back into his skull. Rafe’s gaze returns to yours, Cali’s full lips marking his thick neck as you suckle on his throbbing tip. You start to bob fast, watching Rafe’s toes curl. Cali’s nails scratch lightly through your hair, taking hold of the back of your head. She guides you, using your mouth to stroke Rafe’s cock as she praises you, your trained mouth drawing out moan after moan from him.

Cali’s hand slips out of your hair, moving between her legs. She pushes aside her wet lace panties, head falling onto Rafe’s shoulder as she runs soft circles on her pussy. You pull off his cock, spitting lewdly before taking him back in your fist, pumping Rafe for all he’s worth. “You want him to help you, Cals?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, just the sheer request making his cock twitch in your palm. His fingers quickly replace hers, earning a needy moan as his skilled hand works its magic. You grab Cali’s wrist, taking her fingers between your lips, sucking hard. “Y/n…” Rafe hails, watching you in awe as you taste her on your tongue.

“So sweet,” you mumble. Rafe swallows thickly, doing his best to hold back pleasure as you continue to pump, lowering your lips to his cock again.

“Shit… I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” Cali whimpers.

“Me either,” Rafe moans. ”Fuck, baby. Suck my fuckin’ dick, y/n.” You wrap your lips around his head, hollowing your cheeks, making the muscles in his thighs tremble under your hands. Cali’s about to burst, back arching, eyes fighting to stay locked on you.

“Oh, Rafe… Just like that,” she cries as she throws her head back. The slick sounds of her cunt fill the room, along with Rafe’s moaning and panting breaths. Rafe grabs your head; hips pitching as he cums in spurts. You’re calculated with his climax, focusing on letting his seed pool on your tongue.

You stick it out showing Rafe his sticky spent before leaning into Cali, spitting it into her mouth. “Fuck me,” he moans, throwing his head back on the coach. His arms lay in exhaustion by his side, the most satisfied, blissful smile on his lips. “Best night of my fuckin’ life,” he pants as he returns his eyes to you. Rafe runs his thumb along your chin, catching the rest of his cum, before stuffing it in your mouth, letting you suck it off. Rafe presses down, parting your lips, spitting inside. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into with me, princess. You know you’re mine now. Yeah?” He smiles as he hooks his finger under your chin, closing your mouth, watching you swallow. “Your turn.”

Cali reaches around you, lifting your bra, letting your boobs bounce free. Rafe grabs your tits in his large hands as you watch his half-hard cock stiffen again. Rafe takes you swiftly into his strong arms, kissing you passionately as you reach the mattress. “Just pretend like I’m not here. Wanna watch you eat her pussy,” Cali whispers through a mischievous smile, crawling on the bed.

“That was the sexiest shit I have ever fuckin’ seen, Y/n, you… I have no words,” he mumbles between kisses.

“Yeah? You liked that?” You giggle breathily as Rafe smile stretches against lips.

“Loved it, sweetheart.” He tosses you down on the bed, watching with an insatiable thirst as your breasts bounce, mounting you fast. His warm tongue swirls your nipple, sucking and flicking your sensitive skin, making you moan and cry for more. Rafe works lower on your body, his eyes not lesving you. You lie back on the mattress, propping yourself up on your elbows between Cali’s thighs. She looks down at you, leaning in for a kiss. Rafe’s rough fingers draw up your skin, setting your body ablaze as they drift between your thighs. “So soaked, baby. Goddamn… Makin’ a mess already.”

Rafe touches your panties, making you gasp into your kiss as you feel the chilled sensation against your warmth. He releases a deep, sinful laugh, sending chills down your spine. You lift your hips as he hooks his fingers around the cotton band of your thong, pulling it down your thighs. Rafe grabs your legs, spreading them open, pressing your thighs into the mattress. “Bet you can’t wait to fuck her pussy-”

“Can’t fuckin’ wait,” he cuts Cali short. You can feel her soft touch, ghosting circles around your nipples, your pliant skin hardening under her touch as Rafe dips his thick fingers between your folds, spreading your slick.

“You’re so wet…” Cali praises. “Bet you could make a mess of Rafe’s cock, y/n.”

“Bet I could… Maybe he’ll let me clean him off when we’re done,” you smile.

“He said tomorrow, princess, after your little date. Or, does that greedy little cunt of yours need to be filled tonight, y/n?”

“You two are gonna kill me,” Rafe mumbles. His pleasure alone, enough to send you over the edge, embarrassingly close, feeding off of his high. You feel yourself dripping, Rafe’s tongue quickly laps up the mess between your thighs.

“Yes, daddy. Shit-” You sigh, unable to form the rest of your words as his lips lock down on your puffy clit. Cali’s small hands grab as much of your breasts as she can, pressing them together for him, tweaking and rolling your nipples as Rafe watches, longingly, moaning into your pussy at the sight of her toying with your tits. Rafe starts to rock his cock into the mattress, craving friction, dreaming about the nasty shit Cali was teasing him with.

Rafe takes you by surprise, looping his big arms around your thighs, pulling you close. He licks a fat stripe from your hole to your sensitive bud, making you cry out in pleasure. Rafe darts and flicks his tongue, watching you twitch and whine beneath him. The chill of his rings hits the heat of your inner thigh, working higher and higher, making your eyes roll back. Rafe slaps your drenched pussy, making tears gather in your eyes before doing it again. Your pleasure builds as he thrusts two long fingers into your soaked pussy, setting a fast gait, making your thighs quake uncontrollably.

He spits on your clit, working the pads of his fingers rapidly over your bundle of nerves, circling his tongue through your cunt, tongue-fucking you as you plead for your release. “Make me cum, Rafe. Fuck. M’right there,” you whimper. He buries himself between your thighs, suffocating himself in your drenched pussy. “Yes!” You let out a choked cry.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Rafe moans against your sex; the vibrations of his low voice sends you over the edge, straight into ecstasy. You scream his name, knitting your fingers in his hair as you hold him close. Rafe continues to please you through your orgasm as your release drips from your pussy, wetting his sheets below. “Good girl… S’good. Look at that mess, Cali,” he rasps. “She a dirty fuckin’ slut. Huh? Just perfect f’me.” Your eyes flutter open on his. Rafe quickly takes purchase of your lips, kissing you deeply as you do your best to catch your breath. “Shit, princess… I don’t think I can wait.”

“You can’t wait, baby?”

“No… No I can’t.”

“Mmm… What about tomorrow?” You tease.

“Unless you stand me up it’s happening. But this party is gonna clear out in an hour. Everyone’s gonna leave for the night, and it’ll be just you and me.” You smile up at Cali, your bestie matching your energy as Rafe continues to grind into you nice and slow, mumbling into your ear. “I’m gonna treat you like a fuckin’ slut tonight but you gotta know I’m serious. I wanna get to know you too.”

“Okay,” you giggle happily, making Cali cover her mouth to conceal her squeal of excitement for you.

“Am I your man, baby?”

“You’re my man,” you coo, cuddling into him as you wrap your arms around his trim waist.

“That’s right… And in an hour, you and I are gonna come back up here, and you’re gonna give me a private show. I want you to dance for me, y/n. Then, I’m gonna fuck you into the mattress.”

You smile, as your fingers trace up his back, scratching into his hair. “You promise?”

Rafe chuckles deeply against the warmth of your neck, his swollen tip teasing your soaked hole, doing everything but pushing inside. “I’m gonna ruin you princess.”

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post

@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[mc-lukanette]

Luka laughed into the phone. "Marinette, I'm sure you don't need lessons anymore. Your playing already sounds amazing."

"You say that all the time," she huffed, Luka grinning as he imagined the pout on the other end of the line. "Besides, it'll—it'll be different! We'll be in a real place you'd play music instead of your room, so you can judge my playing fairly!"

"Mhm~"

"And I already called Penny so she could get it! There'll be some extra time too if you want to call the others to practice—!"

"You don't have to try to convince me," he cut in, leaning back on his bed casually. "I'm looking forward to it."

"It? How—?!" She paused, then let out a sheepish giggle. "Right, our lesson. Gotcha. See you later!"

She hung up before he could reply. Still, he said a fond, "See you," into his phone even though she couldn't have heard it. As he took it away from his ear, he navigated to his gallery and tapped on the picture that Juleka had taken of Marinette's first guitar lesson with him.

More specifically, it was a screenshot he'd taken of Marinette's post online that contained said picture. He already adored the picture itself - even if he'd been a fool to be staring at Marinette while a camera was being pointed at him, trapping his love-struck face into eternal replay - but Marinette's caption just made it better.

Starting guitar lessons today courtesy of Luka! 🥰🎶

He grinned wider, the heart face in particular warming him. Regardless of how Marinette saw him romantically, she clearly thought highly of him and that was enough.

She was good - really good - at guitar, just like he knew she'd be. She listened to him with every lesson, asked politely for feedback, and was willing to admit when there was something she didn't understand.

The only tragedy that came with seeing her get better was knowing that their lessons would get shorter and eventually come to an end altogether. Luka vividly recalled Marinette asking Juleka to take a picture of her first lesson to post online, then muttering about how glad she was that pictures didn't capture the sound of her awful playing.

He honestly didn't think she sounded that bad for her first time, but he might've been too focused on the song she played without need of a guitar.

——

Eventually, Luka arrived at the TV studio, trying not to smirk too wide at the guards who now had to let him in. The ride up the elevator felt long compared to what he expected, but he knew he was impatient when it came to Marinette.

Even if it was as simple as a guitar lesson, he loved spending time with her.

He entered the room slowly, a mix of positive and negative memories rushing back to him at the mere sight: the designs and music in their video getting stolen, getting mocked by Bob Roth and XY, Marinette being threatened, and finally getting the justice they deserved that let Kitty Section play on live TV.

In the center of all of it was Marinette, who he saw sat down on the stage they'd played while holding a guitar - his guitar - in her lap. It was technically something he let her borrow, but he also had no intention of asking for it back. After all, he had two black-and-white guitars, not one. Both had the same base, but the neck design was different for them. The one he gave to Marinette continued the black-and-white theme with a monochrome neck, whereas the guitar he used for himself had a wooden one.

Because there was so little difference between them, it made it easy to instruct Marinette on where her fingers should go, especially when he could either guide her hands or use himself as an example. She'd always appreciated the ease of it.

Seeing her cradling it like she was, despite already having it for so long, made him unreasonably happy.

"Hey, Marinette," he greeted.

She made eye contact with him, her shoulders relaxing as he approached. Taking one hand off the guitar to wave, she greeted him back with a smile.

He took his guitar case off, then sat down next to her and set it beside him. He turned away from her to undo the latch keeping the case shut, but her hand caught his arm before he could.

"Wait."

Glancing at her, he raised a brow. Her face seemed oddly serious all of a sudden, but he couldn't imagine why she wouldn't want him to take his guitar out.

"I, ah..." She pulled her hand back, fingertips rubbing against her thumb self-consciously. "I wanted you to listen to something before our lesson?"

He perked up. "You wrote something?"

It hadn't been his intention, but his enthusiasm alleviated her anxiety. She took a breath, sheepishly averting her gaze as she replied, "Um, sort of?"

He leaned towards her with intrigue, watching quietly as she checked, double-checked, and triple-checked the guitar to ensure it was properly tuned. He wouldn't have doubted if she'd also checked it before he arrived.

He was absolutely fascinated. Marinette had already had so many talents and hobbies that he thought she was just picking up guitar for the sake of it or as a tool to get her emotions out, but for her to go and actually write something?

He couldn't wait.

Once Marinette was ready, she closed her eyes and strummed a simply melody. It was a warm-up that Luka had taught her - only drawing him in further - but the moment she was done, the real song began.

It started out slow and even a bit bitter. While she didn't add any lyrics, Luka could feel the emotions in the song: loneliness and a lack of hope. It sounded strangely familiar to him, yet he couldn't place it.

Then, the song picked up, and the familiarity came with it. It didn't take Luka any time to catch it because he'd not just heard it, but played it himself. It wasn't a perfect recreation, but it was the song he'd played for Marinette when they first met.

She'd remembered it all this time.

It took one more change of tune, but that was when it clicked for him: she was playing them. She was playing all of their moments together and how they made her feel, from their slightly shaky beginning to his song for her and everything after that. He swallowed, already overwhelmed.

It all culminated when she got to the day they'd learned their music video had been stolen. He could hear the anger of the realization, the low subtlety as they snuck into the studio together, the fear when Bob Roth threatened her, the shock when he'd gotten akumatized to save her, and finally the tenderness when he'd confessed to her.

It took a lot to put one's feelings into music. It required a sense of vulnerability that Luka genuinely admired in a person: the ability to lay one's feelings bare to someone they trust. He almost wanted to ask Marinette to stop - seeing the visible strain on her face at everything she was trying to play right - but he couldn't bring himself to tarnish her efforts in any form.

Thus, he kept listening, almost forgetting to breathe in his awe of her.

There had always been something he could hear in the background of her song whenever he was with her, but he hadn't been sure of it. He thought he may've been fooling himself or was simply mishearing, yet now Marinette was playing it right in front of him as if to make sure he heard.

Love. She was playing not just their experiences together, but her feelings for him. She hadn't fallen as hard as he had when they met, meaning that those feelings started small and only grew over time. He hadn't noticed or at least tried not to, unwilling to be wrong despite his intuition so often being correct.

This was her way of confessing, her way of saying that she cherished their time together, that he was important to her, and that she was even sorry for taking as long as she did for it all to come together. Luka couldn't imagine a single thing that she needed to be sorry for, and certainly not when she was making him feel such a way. His heart was pounding like it wanted to escape his chest and he could barely sit still.

Eventually, the song came to an end, Marinette's face flushed red as she rested her arms on the guitar. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she explained shyly, "Y-you did it in words, so I thought... I thought I should do it in your language." Turning to him, eyes glistening with emotion, she added, "I know I'm still learning, but I couldn't wait! I wanted you to know, and if I waited too long, I was afraid you'd—mmphf—"

He kissed her. He'd never been the one to just act, but his guitar was still in his case and he needed her to know that he still reciprocated regardless of how much time had passed. He'd even scooted closer to be within distance to kiss her, and the guitar that she'd used to play such beautiful music was suddenly a nuisance, keeping him from showing his full affection.

Marinette, either reading his mind or being naturally in sync with him, used a hand to move it off her lap and to the side opposite of him. Legs free to move, she turned fully towards him and grabbed his jacket to pull him closer, Luka moving in response to cup her face with both hands.

He'd already been breathless from her performance, but he held the contact as long as he could, no other thought in his head beyond showing her that she was loved.

When they both pulled back, it was only a few inches away from each other. Luka simply had no intent to get any further away than necessary and Marinette still had a firm grip on him.

They made some attempts to speak, opening their mouths a few times to form words, but nothing came out. He thought that perhaps she'd seen him opening his mouth and stopped herself, but the timing was all off. They were both lost for words that they didn't need anyway.

A gentle yet insistent tug was all he needed to kiss her again, thoughts of inviting the rest of Kitty Section there having been abandoned long ago.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

Ch 5 of Until the Devil's Last Dance ~ 3.6k

RadioApple₊⁺⋆ 50s Human AU ₊⁺⋆ Omega!Alastor ₊⁺⋆ Explicit~

Angst. Hurt/Comfort tones

Follow on Ao3

// thought I'd slip the first sexy chapter of my ongoing fic~ Check it out if you want like, story or something XD CW: Alastor here is a virgin in a world that is real backwards about omega sexuality. He has misconceptions. He has shame. He doesn't have the words to say he's on the ace spectrum. Lucifer is a damn decent alpha about it. // CW: Mentions of Alastor's experience offering sexual acts as a means of survival.

♫ ♫ ♫

Lucifer’s lips tasted of whiskey and yearning.  Alastor savored the smoky flavor, matching the alpha’s passion with his own carefully controlled fervor. Their kisses danced between tender and hungry, a delicate push and pull that was slowly worming past all of the omega’s carefully constructed walls. 

 🎶Men are not a new sensation I’ve done pretty well I think But this half-pint imitation Put me on the blink🎵 

The alpha pulled back for a breath. His eyes softened with concern as they looked to meet the omegas–to check on him.  As if Alastor’s defenses weren’t weak enough.  “Just thinking,” the omega murmured, before quickly diverting that train of thought mid track. “That you certainly know how to make a fella feel special.” “I told ya,” Lucifer gave a mirthful little chuckle. “I aim to please, sweetheart.”  Deft fingers curled under the omega’s chin, and pulled him back to continue their heated exchange of lips and the taste of tongues.  Alastor was bracing himself for what usually came next.  He knew what would happen when an alpha grabbed for him. He made sure to keep enough space, to have his escape route–and here he’d trapped himself between chairs and a table–in his own damn kitchen. He’d cornered himself, and he’d surely pay for it.  Those powerful hands with intricate tattoos reached for him, and he steeled his nerves for the inevitable. To be pushed and bent and pinned in the mockery of mounting.  But Lucifer surprised him. Yet again.  Instead of pawing at him greedily, the alpha grasped Alastor’s waist, like he was about to lift him on the dance floor, and he did so—right out of his chair.   Alastor found himself straddling Lucifer, their faces mere inches apart. “Is this alright?” The blonde asked, his voice husky. Alastor’s heart raced.  No, no, this was not okay. This was…unexpected, thrilling even. He was used to being pushed down, manhandled. But here he was, in a position of power, on the alpha’s lap. “More than alright, darling,” Alastor replied, his usual confident smirk in place despite his swirling inner turmoil. He cupped Lucifer’s face, relishing the smooth skin beneath his palms. “Though I must say, you continue to surprise me.” Lucifer’s hands settled on Alastor’s hips, firm but not forceful. “Good kinda surprises, I hope?” “The very best kind,” Alastor murmured, leaning in to capture Lucifer’s lips once more, his fingers curling into golden hair.  The omega marveled at the gentleness of this alpha.The difference was so stark. And so intoxicating.  A heady cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursed through him.  For once, he wasn’t being shoved into a wall or pushed onto his knees to satisfy someone else’s predilections. He was the one setting the pace, and Lucifer seemed content to follow his lead. The hand on the back of his neck was warm–and the hold didn’t tighten when he turned his head away and denied Lucifer his lips. Just to see how the alpha would react.  Only to have his heated mouth skim along the omega’s jaw, humming as he teased at his ear. Alastor felt a laugh bubble out of him. Not just from the cheeky sensation.  “Still playing the gentleman, are you?” Alastor murmured, pulling back slightly to study the alpha’s face. Lucifer’s eyes glimmered with warmth, even as he chuckled, “Trust me, I’m thinking some very, very ungentlemanly thoughts.”

🎵 He can laugh, but I love it Although the laugh’s on me🎵 

Alastor snickered, but inwardly, his despairs roiled. Did he trust Lucifer? The man had been nothing but noble since they’d met, despite how he looked. Even now, those smirking lips were claiming every inch of Alastor’s neck–without pushing past the barrier of his shirt collar.   He’d never experienced this level of consideration from an alpha before. His past encounters had been...less than pleasant, to put it mildly. “I must admit,” Alastor said, tracing a finger along Lucifer’s jawline, “this is rather new territory for me.” “Oh?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his hands still resting lightly on Alastor’s hips. “I find that hard to believe, given how charming you are.” Alastor’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. He certainly hoped that the blonde wasn’t questioning his virtue–not when he’d worked so damn hard to maintain it.  His omega record was clean. His files claimed proudly that he was untouched–because, technically, he was.   But the reality was far more complicated…and undignified. He’d never let any of his alpha dates touch him. But a riled up, unpleased alpha could be an intimate type of threat for an omega.  Instead of dwelling on those thoughts, Alastor leaned in for another kiss, relishing the way Lucifer responded eagerly, without aggression.  Alastor would happily keep up this little dance…but Lucifer’s hands began to wander, sliding down his back…to untuck Alastor’s red dress shirt. The omega’s eyes snapped open during the kiss, warning bells going off in his head as palms pressed to bare skin. Pressing him further into Lucifer’s lap. The alpha was growing hard beneath him. And that sent tension rocketing through Alastor.  Old instincts flared to life, screaming at him to retreat–but he didn’t want to.  He didn’t want to be let go. He didn’t want the sweet touches and devoted attention to stop…when Alastor didn’t surrender enough of himself up.  He gripped the blonde’s hair, pressing harder into the kiss. Hoping it would last just a bit longer, before he did what he had to do. What he always had to do.  Sometimes, most times, it was just easier, safer, to get on his knees. To let the alpha have his mouth before they could take anything more.  No matter how humiliating it was.  “Al?” Lucifer asked, like something the omega had done had already given his thoughts away. Alastor forced a smile. “Just…savoring the moment.” Lucifer was not convinced.  Those eyes searched Alastor’s face, concern evident in his gaze. “Alastor?” he asked softly, his thumb tracing circles on the omega’s hip. Old habits warring with newfound passions. He needed to regain control of the situation, to steer things in a familiar direction.  “Perhaps we might be more comfortable on the sofa?” he suggested, his voice a silky purr despite the anxiety churning in his gut. The carpet would be easier on his knees than the kitchen tile.  “That’s a brilliant idea,” Lucifer agreed, pecking Alastor’s lips once more. Before the brunette could move, Lucifer’s muscular arms encircled him. With effortless grace, the alpha lifted him, cradling Alastor against his chest as he stood. The omega let out a yelp of unadulterated astonishment, clinging to the blonde’s shoulders, lest he be dropped on his ass.  “See, stronger than I look,” Lucifer chuckled, his breath warm against Alastor’s ear. “I told ya I coulda dipped ya on the dance floor.” “You certainly could have.” An amalgamate of fear and exhilaration flooded his veins.  He clung to Lucifer, inhaling the alpha’s tantalizing scent. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of being held, of being cared for. Before Alastor remembered where—and what he was.  “Maybe, you’ll have your chance.” Alastor murmured, nuzzling into Lucifer’s neck. As Lucifer carried him towards the couch, Alastor steeled himself. He was ready for what would come next, what always came next–another act of submission, another alpha using him for their pleasure. At least this time, he thought, it might not just be for survival’s sake. 

🎵 And long for the day when I’ll cling to him Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I 🎶

Alastor’s back met the soft cushions of his sofa, his breath catching as Lucifer’s weight settled over him.  The alpha’s lips found his again, more eager, want practically pouring from him. But the nips were playful, nudging. Not dominating or pinning him down.  It left Alastor dizzy, his usual charm and calculated responses slipping away like sand through his fingers. “Lucifer,” Alastor gasped, turning his head to the side.  He needed a moment, just a second, to catch his breath, to think clearly before he lost himself altogether. Lucifer obliged, his attention shifting down Alastor’s neck, dipping past the collar of his shirt.   The omega’s eyes widened as he felt the alpha’s mouth trailing down his throat, inching dangerously close to his mating gland. Pleasure and terror jolted through him. “Wait,” Alastor whispered, his body clenching.  Most alphas avoided that spot, wary of accidentally claiming an omega they only wanted for a night.  But Lucifer was different, wasn’t he? Lucifer’s gaze retreated, a flicker of worry shadowing his eyes.  “Hey, I wouldn’t bite ya without asking, Al,” he promised softly. “I just want to make you feel good. Is that alright?” Alastor blinked, surprised by the alpha’s perceptiveness. How had Lucifer known? He hadn’t said anything aloud, had he?  “I…yes,” Alastor found himself saying, his usual mask of confidence faltering. “That’s alright.” As Lucifer’s lips returned to his neck, gentler this time, popping open the top buttons of his shirt. Even then, he took his time before trailing back to his intended target.  This tenderness, this care—it was unfamiliar territory. He didn’t know how to navigate it, how to maintain control. For the first time in a long while, Alastor felt truly vulnerable.

🎶I’m wild again, beguiled again A simpering, whimpering child again🎵 

Lucifer’s mouth ghosted over Alastor’s mating gland, sending voltaic shivers down his spine and tingling through his skin. As the alpha carefully teased the sensitive spot, humming like he was satisfied just getting his mouth on the omega—until Alastor felt the obscene way the blonde rolled his hips, grinding their centers together.  “Oh,” Alastor breathed, his eyes fluttering shut.  A rush of arousal flooded through him, leaving him wet and flustered. This feeling…it was so foreign outside of his heats. He squirmed as his mind fought to process the magnitude of it. A whimper nearly escaped his lips, and the omega prayed it and the vulgar reactions of his traitorous anatomy would go unnoticed.  “Fuck,” Lucifer’s nostrils flared. A slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. “You smell so good,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. Alastor couldn’t wrap his mind around it, around what he was supposed to do now? All his scripts had run out of pages and his composure was ruptured down the middle.  Alphas weren’t supposed to be able to control themselves around the scent of omega slick.   “I’d love to taste you right now,” Lucifer purred against his neck.  Alastor’s eyes snapped open, his entire body burning.  Alphas using an omega’s mouth? Certainly. Frequently, even. But going down on an omega? That was beneath them, wasn’t it? Even once mated.  “I…what?” Alastor stammered, his usual eloquence deserting him. “You want to…?” Lucifer nodded, his eyes dark with hunger. “I do, so much, sweetheart.” This was not how things were supposed to go.  He was the one who offered to alphas, not the other way around. And yet, the thought of Lucifer’s mouth on him sent a tingle of excitement through his body. “I’ve never…that is, no one has ever…” Alastor trailed off, uncharacteristically flustered.

 🎶Bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I 🎶

Nerves seized Alastor’s chest, constricting his breath.  This was uncharted territory, a vulnerability he’d never allowed himself to experience. Before he could voice his concerns, Lucife’s expression shifted, brow furrowing. “Alastor? Are you alright?” His voice was gentle, laced with genuine worry. The omega swallowed hard, dragging a smile. “Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t I be?” He tried to infuse his voice with its usual confident intonation, but it sounded hollow even in his own ears. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, searching the omega’s face. “Have you ever…been with an alpha before?” The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.  “Of course not,” Alastor huffed, putting on offense as he bought time to choose his words carefully. “I’ve never let an alpha have–knot me.”  It wasn’t a lie, not technically. Understanding dawned on Lucifer’s face.He retreated, severing the intimate contact between them. Alastor felt the loss acutely, an unexpected ache blooming in his rib cage. “I see,” Lucifer said softly. “Maybe we should just, take a breath–” “No!” Alastor blurted, surprising himself with the desperation in his voice. And how he reached for the alpha the moment he pulled back. “I mean, there’s no need for that, darling.”  He needed to regain control of the situation.  Alastor’s hand trailed down Lucifer’s chest, a rehearsed move he’d perfected over countless encounters. “I’m quite skilled with my mouth, you know.” Lucifer caught the omega’s wrist gently. “Alastor, you don’t have to—” “I want to,” Alastor prevaricated.  But this, at least, was familiar territory. He could distance himself from his own vulnerability, focus on Lucifer’s pleasure instead of the confusing maelstrom of his own desires. “Please, let me do this for you.” Alastor had found himself in the bittersweet position of being caught up in the clutches of a good man. He might just enjoy having a cock forced down his throat.  No. He wouldn’t.  But he would recover before his broadcast. He could satisfy this bizarre need to be touched with the alpha’s hands in his hair.  and he might just be happy to have pleased Lucifer.  The alpha’s gaze bored into him. “Do you actually enjoy that, Alastor?” The question caught the brunette off guard. No alpha had ever asked him that before. He swallowed hard, plastering on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “Of course I do, darling,” he lied smoothly, reaching up to pull Lucifer into another kiss. For a moment, Lucifer reciprocated, his lips moving against Alastor’s with that same bewildering blend of affection and tenderness. But all too soon, Alastor felt him pulling back, slowing down. Frustration bubbled up inside him as he tried to deepen the kiss, to reignite that spark from earlier. “Alastor,” Lucifer murmured against his lips, “there’s no rush.” Alastor let out a small, impatient huff. “My dear, I assure you, I’m quite ready to—” “I’m not,” Lucifer interrupted softly, pulling back to meet Alastor’s gaze. “Not like this.” The admission stunned Alastor into silence. He’d never encountered an alpha who wanted to take things slow, especially not when Alastor was trying to throw himself at them.  A familiar sense of shame crept in, and the brunette pulled back, covering his face.  Had he misread the situation entirely? When he had turned into such a wanton whore? Lucifer must have sensed his distress because his expression lightened. “How about we just…touch for a while?” he suggested, his hand coming to rest on Alastor’s chin, nudging the omega to look at him. “Doesn’t have to be anything more.” “I…suppose that would be acceptable,” Alastor managed, trying to conceal his uncertainty.  Just as long as Lucifer didn’t pull away from him. Something in the omega just couldn’t handle that right now.  With a sweet smile, Lucifer’s hands moved back to his hips, and this time Alastor was on board with the next move.  Gracefully, he slid one of his legs over Lucifer’s, settling into the alpha’s lap, gripping to his shoulders as he rocked forward to kiss him again. Slow, heartwrenchingly slow. 

🎶I’ll sing to him, each spring to him And long for the day when I’ll cling to him🎵 

Still, Alastor knew when he’d gotten through to the alpha when hands started to wander again. To the buttons of Alastor’s shirt, slowly undoing them one by one.  “Is this alright?” Lucifer asked softly, his eyes never leaving the brunette’s face. Alastor nodded, not trusting his voice. The omega held his breath, waiting for the moment when Lucifer would grow impatient and simply rip the garment off. But it never came. Instead, Lucifer’s fingers trailed reverently over each newly exposed inch of skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. This gentle exploration was entirely new to him, and he found himself melting into Lucifer’s touch, craving more in a way he’d never experienced before. His fingers curled into the hair at the base of the alpha’s neck. Needing the alpha and everything he gave. His pulse fluttering as the vest and suspenders slipped off of his shoulders. 

🎵 And worship the trousers that cling to him Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I 🎶

Lucifer’s inked fingers traced lower, skimming along Alastor’s abdomen and pausing at the waistband of his trousers.  The alpha’s eyes sought permission, a silent question in their depths. Alastor felt a rush of nervousness, but nodded his assent. He wanted it. He lusted after it.  And as Lucifer’s hand slipped beneath the fabric, Alastor instinctively pressed his thighs together, a concoction of anticipation and apprehension coursing through him.  “I’ve never…” Alastor’s whispered voice tried to break. “That is to say, I’ve never had anything…inside me.” “Oh…” Lucifer’s movements stilled. “Not even during your heats?” he asked, honest curiosity in his tone. Alastor shook his head. “No, of course not,” he replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. Even as he had to bite back the shame that surged again.  “Hey, it’s okay,” Lucifer soothed, pressing a soothing kiss to Alastor’s temple. “Nothing inside, I promise.” Alastor hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright,” he agreed, willing his body to relax. Lucifer’s fingers resumed their exploration, his kisses gone slow and meandering as he slipped into Alastor’s undergarments–and found him drenched with slick.  The omega gasped as he realized just how wet he’d gotten from the alpha’s attentions, but Lucifer seemed far from put off by the lewdness of it.  The alpha was just tracing over his folds, teasing the most delicate part of him like Alastor had never let anyone–when a jolt of pleasure unlike anything the omega had ever experienced shot through him. That whimpering sound clawed its way out of the omega’s throat.  Lucifer smiled against him, continuing his ministrations as he whispered against Alastor’s ear, “You’re beautiful like this, sweetheart.” Fuck, how could Lucifer even think this was beautiful? He was a mess. A creature of nothing but need and hunger that demanded to be satisfied. Could think of nothing other than the way that those fingers played with his clit.  The only other thing that Alastor felt…was overwhelmed, caught between the physical sensations and the soft words.  It was nothing like the rushed, impersonal encounters he’d known before. This was something entirely new, a gratification he’d never allowed himself to imagine possible. “That’s it,” Lucifer murmured, his lips brushing Alastor’s mating gland, singing pleasure from it, too. “Just feel it, sweetheart.” Then, the sensation crested and crashed over him all at once.   Alastor clung to Lucifer, burying his face in the alpha’s neck. He breathed in Lucifer’s scent, letting it ground him as he trembled with each new sensation. “ I’ve got you.” And for the first time in his life, Alastor let himself believe it.

🎵 I’ve sinned a lot; I’m mean a lot But I’m like sweet seventeen a lot Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I 🎶

As the last tremors of pleasure subsided, reality came smashing back. As it always did.   Alastor’s face burned with shame, his contentment evaporating like morning mist. He jerked away from Lucifer, covering his face with trembling hands as he nearly tumbled from the alpha’s lap. “Whoa, hey, Al, what’s wrong?” The tattooed arms clutched him, just trying to settle him onto the couch before he could fall off it.  “I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered, voice muffled behind his palms. “I don’t know what came over me…” “Sweetheart, I can’t understand you when–just talk to me.” Hands wrapped around his wrists, but Alastor couldn’t bear to meet those golden eyes. “I swear I’m not…I’m not some easy little slut–I’ve never done that before.” “Whoa, hold on. You’ve never…orgasmed before?” Lucifer’s voice was incredulous.  And Alastor felt an entirely different way to burn. He wanted to turn to cinders, to ashes, and to dust.  He knew what he’d been taught, and he’d desecrated any semblance of dignity he had.  Omegas should never be so desperate for it. So keening and mewling for pleasure. He had to find a way to salvage his carefully cultivated image, he wasn’t some whore. He wasn’t.  Lucifer’s voice cut through the panic. “Alastor, baby, look at me.” Reluctantly, Alastor lowered his hands, meeting Lucifer’s gaze. The alpha’s eyes were soft, filled with understanding rather than judgment. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” Lucifer said firmly. “Enjoying it doesn’t make you easy or…any of those other things.” “I…am not supposed to—omegas shouldn’t…” “Who says they shouldn’t?“ Lucifer shrugged. “They aren’t here. And I liked it.” Alastor’s face flamed as he looked at the alpha, who just gave him a big goofy grin. “ And…” Lucifer’s tongue flicked teasingly against his teeth. “I’d really like it if you did it again.’“

 🎶 He’s a fool and don’t I know it But a fool can have his charms🎵 

As he spoke, Lucifer brought his fingers to his lips, savoring the evidence of Alastor’s arousal. The omega’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. “I’d love to taste more of you,” Lucifer purred, a mischievous glint in his eye.  The words sent a fresh wave of heat through Alastor’s body.  The shame, it still lingered, roiling in his gut. But…it was quickly being drowned with desire. If Alastor could only let it.

🎶Vexed again, perplexed again Thank God, I can be oversexed again Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I. 🎶

[shelbyshoe]

Toxic Work Environment 🎶

(Unedited Aeon Drabble) [The one where Ada is a secret Britney Spears Fan]

Ada never expected to find Leon here. But with the same enemy, they were bound to meet. She'd startled when he crawled right into her hiding spot. At first, she hadn't heard him over the music she had playing in her earbuds.

"Ada?" His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" She held a finger up to her lips.

"Waiting." She'd taken refuge in one of the bigger facility vents and watched through the slatted vent cover into her target's lab. He'd be there any minute.

"Wait. It was you." Leon squeezed in behind her and peered over her and out of the vent at the empty room below. "You set up that trap."

"Right." It wasn't her best work, but it would get her target into the lab.

"Who are you working for?" he asked. So much for being quiet. Leon slouched awkwardly in the vent and shrugged when she gave no reply. "Had to ask."

Ada pulled out her SAT phone and pulled up the map her employer had sent. Leon leaned in.

"Where did you get that?"

"That's classified." Ada couldn't hold back her grin, and Leon returned it. She held out her hand. "Give me your comm." He handed it to her without anymore questions. She found his comm number and sent him a copy of the map. He took it from her when she handed it over and scrolled over the layout.

"Thanks," he said. The comm screen lit his face in a dim green. They sat in silence while she waited.

Ada adjusted her bluetooth earbud as the next song began to play. She often listened to music while she waited in between missions, or while waiting for her targets. The little bud beeped a couple times with low battery.

Before she was able to do anything about it, the earbuds died. Instead of turning off her music, it blasted out of her speakers.

"I'm addicted to you. Don't you know that you're toxic?" Her phone sang. She quickly silenced it, but the damage was already done.

Leon looked up from his comm and stared down at the phone in her hands. They stayed like that for a long time before he laughed. He attempted to hold it in with a hand over his mouth. Ada kicked herself for not charging her headphones before she left.

"A Britney Spears fan?" he asked. Ada wanted to scold him, but she couldn't find it in her while his face shown with genuine delight.

His laughter stopped when hers started. She hadn't laughed in so long that she barely remembered the feeling.

The vent cover ripped off and a mutated version of their target reached in with a long tenticle and took Ada's leg. Leon grabbed a hold of her and attempted to pull her back.

"Looks like the dance party is going to have to wait," Leon said in her ear as he latched his arms beneath hers and pulled.

"Sorry, looks like I already have a partner," Ada said. Their opponent roared into the vent. Their bodies slid across the metal surface toward the BOW below.

"Remind me to quit my job. This is a toxic work environment," Leon said as the mutated scientist finally pulled them from their hiding spot.

[incorrect-play-it-by-ear]

This week on the Play It By Ear Book Club we are working out which episode is the best to introduce new people to the show!

I could have made this a poll, but that is not what the book club is for! So, please, reblog (or reply) with the episode you think is best suited to introduce someone to PIBE with, and include your reasoning! Was the plot especially coherent and impressive? 🦸‍♀️🤵🏻 Was there a particular musical moment that blew your socks off? 🎆🎶

Let's figure this one out once and for all 🔽 💪🏻

[sorceress-queen]

For the spotify ask: 1, 50, 99

Thank you! I had great fun with these. I hope you will enjoy the short fics inspired by the songs as well. :D

1. Francesca by Hozier

🎶 Da-, darling, I would do it again (ah-ah, ah-ah)

I wouldn't change it each time

Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I 🎶

Arthur and Morgana have a secret relationship while knowing. that they (might be) related

They both know they should not be doing this, hiding in alcoves after council meetings. Waltzing into each other's chambers unannounced and embracing like they are the only two people left in the world, and yet they keep doing it.

Morgana keeps waking up in his arms, only for either of them to need to return to their respective chambers as dawn breaks and the sunrays slowly fill the room, touching the bed, bringing to light what the night keeps covered.

Neither of them wants to end what is between them. Even when they ought to, when they both know that Morgana is more than Uther's Ward, that the King thinks she is his daughter, and with her mother gone, and Gorlois, her father gone, she cannot ask either of the truthfulness of Uther's words. For all she knows, it is a lie, for whatever reason only the King is privy to.

And so without the hope of being allowed to marry, while the King is alive and well, that is. They keep to their love in secret. Both Arthur and Morgana are aware of the consequences if Uther is to find out about them, and yet neither of them cares enough to stop. They love each other, and even if it ends tragically, Morgana knows that they will still keep on loving each other.

Arthur would still keep on winning in tournaments as her champion, and he would still carry her favours on his arm and treasure each and every cloth. And Arthur knows that Morgana will keep on being his lady, assuring him with her very presence of the kind of Prince and future King Camelot needs him to be, to become. That she will still walk arm in arm with him into any council room, any ball, ignoring the whispers and sideway glances they receive at such actions.

50. LoveGame by Lady Gaga

🎶 A Love Game, a Love Game Hold me and love me Just wanna touch you for a minute Maybe three seconds is enough for my heart to quit it 🎶

Morgana teases Arthur in a sauna, they are dating, modern au.

Morgana has to be on a mission to see just how fast she can rile him up. Arthur pulls the towel tighter over his waist as she moves to sit down next to him in the sauna, her long hair is up in a bun, with a few loose strands framing her face.

She hums along to some song playing in her earbuds as she lies down on the bench next to him, seemingly careless about the way her towel rides up her thighs or how while she moves to adjust her bun, the top of the towel loosens and slips slightly down, exposing the pale flesh beneath it, exposing her cleavage.

"What are you listening to?" He asks her, quirking up his brow as he reaches out a hand to adjust the towel on his girlfriend's thigh, she is distracting enough already.

"Lady Gaga." She replies, with a twinkle in her green eyes as she sits up, holding the top of her towel, not quite wanting to bare herself to him yet completely.

"Would you like to have a listen, my love?" She asks, pulling out one of her earbuds, and after wiping it in her towel, she places it in his ear, leaning over him, while her movements are steady Arthur still moves to hold her hip as she does it.

,"This is what you are listening to all the time?" He chuckles, shaking his head at her, but he does not hate the song at all; certainly, it is not what he tends to listen to, but he has to admit it is quite catchy. "No wonder you are so horny all the time," He jests, expecting her to swat at his arm or pout or jibe back, but she surprises him by climbing into his lap, once again that damned towel rides up her thighs.

"It's more what and whom I think about while listening." She teases, wrapping her arms around his neck, allowing the loosened towel to pool in her lap as she does so. Arthur bites back a moan from escaping, but he does not stop himself from kissing her and tugging her body closer to himself while Lady Gaga's music blasts in their ears. The heat is quickly turned up without any need to pour water over the hot rocks.

99. Can't Pretend by Tom Odell

🎶Yeah, love, I hope you know How much my heart depends I guess that's love I can't pretend, I can't pretend oh, oh🎶

Morgana and Arthur are in an arranged marriage.

They cannot pretend that there is nothing growing between them, something other than mutual respect and acceptance of their situation.

The daughter of the Duke of Cornwall, married to the Crown Prince of Camelot. A perfect match, everybody says, everybody thinks, except for the two involved in the marriage.

Neither wanted to get married so young, much less to each other. Practically strangers even on their wedding day, with only a handful of childhood memories of playing together and formal dinners and banquets over the years for them to form opinions on one another.

And while they do not dislike each other nor hate, there hardly seems to be any common ground between them when they marry. Arthur enjoys hunts, Morgana prefers to delight in the wonders of nature during her rides, without any particular desire to shoot the animals in her path. Arthur trains with his knights while Morgana is confined to embroidering and having discussions with the ladies of the court.

But as they get to know one another after their marriage, in a few months, Arthur realises that Morgana is not a bore and that she is more than willing to learn how to wield a sword. He does not mind teaching her, some part of himself is relieved that she will know how to protect herself should he be away while there is danger brought upon the castle.

And Morgana comes to learn that Arthur is not a brute, that he is open to her teaching him of the herbs growing in the forests, that he enjoys learning the different bird songs and teases her over it when she shows him what the coastal birds sound like.

Slowly, perhaps even without them realising it, they start to spend more and more time together a year into their marriage. Arthur dances with her more during the feasts, unable to bring himself to watch her dance with another man.

And Morgana joins him whenever he and the other nobles go on hunts. She tends to keep her eyes on the other ladies who join them, some she knew to be rather fond of her husband. And for whatever reason, she cannot bring herself to speak aloud, she does not enjoy the idea of having him ride next to and talk to another woman for hours while on the hunt. Even if, to Arthur's credit, he is either with her or with his men, and even then, his gaze flits back to where Morgana is in the hunting party;

God forbid he loses her in the crowd, in the forest. He does not know what he would do with himself if he lost her, even if he would never admit it, such is not only unimaginable because it would be tedious for him to marry another woman, but because he would actually miss her terribly.

The great breakthrough in their marriage comes when Arthur has to go for an extended amount of time on a campaign, bringing enforcement to the Duchy of Cornwall attacked by its neighbour.

Morgana not only fears for Arthur's life but for that of her family in Cornwall.

"Come back home," She tells him as she adjusts his armour on his shoulder, barely managing to hold back her tears and her words. She wants to go with him and ride into battle by his side, but she knows that such is a foolish idea. He cannot guarantee her safety in battle, and he needs her to stay in Camelot and uphold what they have built together following the death of his father.

"I will," He assures her, leaning down to kiss her forehead, his hand hovers over her waist before it settles on it, feeling the soft material of her dress beneath his hand, the warmth of her body that was one with his a few hours ago. "I will come back to you, my kingdom, my people." He says, his hand brushing against her stomach in contemplation. The young King cannot help but ponder whether they have been blessed with a child yet, they have been trying more in the past months than they did at the start of their marriage.

"To me, specifically?" Morgana asks him, her hand sliding down to his chest, resting on his chest plate. While they have come to be more open with one another over the years, the revelation of their true feelings for each other, in particular, has never been their strong suit.

"Yes, to you, my wife." He smiles down at her. "I do not have a home without you in it," Arthur admits. There was something in Morgana's eyes at her question which made him want to be more open with her, he could not bear it if she thought him to be unfeeling towards her.

"Mine is with you too, Arthur," Morgana leans up to press her mouth to his cheek. "Come back to me." She whispers then, allowing herself to open up to him too, right as he has no choice but to leave her, to go and fight. Arthur once again smiles, kissing her softly on the mouth. as goodbye, as a way for him to reassure her that he will return to her, for her, for the woman he came to care for and love, for his Morgana.

He returns to Camelot after helping the Duke defend his territories. He is bloody and muddy as he gets off his exhausted horse. He refused to stop and make camp unless it was necessary, he was so eager to return home, to return to her.

Morgana is waiting for him. She rushes down the grand stairs of the castle in her nightgown, not caring for once about appearances, as she rushes to her husband, who welcomes her with open arms, kissing her passionately like he has never kissed her before in his life. He lifts her up in his arms, kissing her even as she tries to fuss over him and any wounds on his person.

He will let her look after his wounds once he has her alone back inside their chambers. For now, he just wants to enjoy the weight of her in his arms, her flowery scent filling his nostrils after weeks and weeks of going without it. Arthur does not know how he could have ever lived without her in his life. If there is one good decision his father made it was to accept Gorlois's proposal of his daughter as his wife.

Later on, after she looks after his wounds and he has her curled up against his side, clean bandages over his wounds, warm food within his belly. He pushes her hair out of her face, prompting Morgana to open her eyes and look up at him.

"I love you." He whispers the first time he has ever said these words aloud to her before.

"Took you long enough," Morgana teases him, despite having never uttered the words to him herself. "I love you too," She adds as she leans up to kiss her husband, allowing him to draw her into his arms.

[covenofthearticulate]

⛔️ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Fanfic Questions!

⛔️ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped? asfdxhsfegcdjhb girl I'm sorry to say that I did, in fact, get like 2-3 pages into a louis/armand/lestat threesome and then lost momentum LOL. I get overwhelmed very easily when I write all 3 of them together, so I'm never able to write more than like 1-2k at a time because if I get too far into it then I just KNOW I'll go off on a million different tangents about their history together, their different viewpoints and philosophies and power dynamics and ANYWAY this is all to say: I'd love to get back to that fic some day, when I have the energy and headspace to do so, but right now my brain can only handle 2 people at a time lmfao

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride? I don't really feel like any of my fics are particularly wild LMAO I mean I tend to be more invested in the kind of emotional angst that happens in the cracks of domesticity, so all my fics are set in the more tranquil periods of canon.

if you want a true ride you are welcome to read my full-length Umbrella Academy Spec Script I wrote during the pandemic asfdxfchgsev but I guess I would maybe pick Air Catcher for this, if only because of the tonal whiplash I tried to embody, as Louis and Lestat go from the rush of hardcore fucking to the vulnerability of soft gentle aftercare, to just the most devastating emotional low that comes with the drop. I think I used the metaphor of a slow-motion car crash in that fic and it just felt really apt because like, you can begin to see things going off the rails, but there's nothing anyone can do to fix it, so you're just kind of locked into this mess.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately? I would truly rather die than have a single noise going on as I'm trying to write LMAO in fact, I just invested in some nice ear plugs that have become very handy! My adhd brain gets so ridiculously distracted, even white noise or the sound of rain stresses me out when I'm trying to focus.

Also oh my god I'm not even fucking joking you, my #1 Spotify On Repeat song is God, That's Good from the Sweeney Todd Broadway Revival Cast Recording and listen I know no one cares but I'm going to gush about this song real quick anyway because LISTEN this song has never been a show-stopper, like it's more of a plot-heavy song, it's the opening number to Act II so it's just after A Little Priest (which we all know is hands-down the best song in all of Sweeney Todd), but God, That's Good, is not only an olympic feat of orchestration and chorus work, but there are so many moments between Sweeney and Lovett that just make my heart so happy.

Like, the entire second half of the song revolves around Sweeney actually being upset that Mrs. Lovett isn't paying him enough attention, so it's a really funny switch on their regular dynamic. He keeps calling her over to look at his Special Chair and she's like "dude I got a shop full of customers" and he replies "don't you CARE?!" like idk I think it's a really delightful little tableau of their two characters, and I just love it so much.

[kokinu09]

ok ok ok that was AMAZING…would you possibly do wedding vibes??

Another imagine you say? Well, 🎶You got my attention🎶

The Wedding 💚💒💙

Addison had spent a lot of time planning their big day.

Creating the perfect blend of all the cultures she and Zed held value in was not an easy task, but she managed to make it perfect.

Perfectly them, that is.

They chose to hold the ceremony in the Cheer Pavilion. The ground where zombies first came to be and the building that was built in honor of cheer. The one thing she had identified herself as for so long, a cheerleader.

And with the werewolves’ help decorating, the cheer hall was transformed to almost look like the den during a traditional wolf unity ceremony.

As the time approached to walk down the aisle, Addison brushed the skirt of her modern style wedding dress. Smooth, satin fit to her form with intricate lace flowing across only one shoulder and spread down across her lower back before fanning out into a long, delicate train. A slit crept up her leg to stop at mid thigh, exposing a peak of the baby blue garter resting there. Along with her clear platform pumps adorned with sparkling stars.

She couldn’t be a more than head shorter than her extraordinarily tall groom after all.

Her pale blue hair was pinned up elegantly with a crescent moon hair piece holding it in place. The shine of dangling star earrings and matching diamond necklace tying together her look.

But she couldn’t wait to see Zed.

Her hands gripped the bouquet of burgundy, orange, and white dahlias in a mix of nerves and excitement.

The doors opened, it was officially her time to walk. She took a few slow strides into the open space before her eyes caught Zed waiting for her up at the alter.

The first thing she noticed was his unbelievably bright smile but also the moisture building in his eyes. She couldn’t lie, it made her a bit watery too.

He wore a maroon tux with a matching tie resting against the black shirt underneath. A great compliment to his stark green hair and pale skin. An orange dahlia pinned to his lapel to match her bouquet.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Her future standing there, waiting patiently for her.

She only vaguely noticed the others standing at the alter with him. Eliza, Bonzo, and Wyatt on his side, Bucky, Bree, and Willa on hers. And A-spen standing beside the human minister.

Zed met her at the bottom of the steps, giving her a breathless smile as he gingerly took her hand in his to assist her as she carefully took each stair one at a time.

A-spen regarded Addison with a wide grin as she got into position. “Earthling traditions are so intriguing, Addison! Intergalactic Union between two beings is quite simple and usually not held on such a high regard!” They said in an excited tone. Making the whole wedding party chuckle.

“Love is cherished dearly on Earth,” Addison replied, looking fondly at Zed standing beside her.

A-spen sighed contently, eyes drifting to a certain she-wolf not too far away. “As I am aware,” they agreed before continuing. “The universe could learn a thing or two from your peoples.”

Addison beamed with excitement. She’s always known love could bring everyone together. But she’d never imagined bringing galaxies together.

But when she looked back up at Zed, love, pride, and adoration shining in his eyes, she knew that would have to be a dream for another day. Because their someday was today.

The preacher began with the ceremony. A beautiful blend of human and zombie wedding cultures. Zoey even sang a traditional zombie tongue love song as Bonzo played the accordion.

It wasn’t until A-spen stepped in that it all began to sink in for Addison. With A-spen being the alien’s Captain of Mothership, that meant they had the authority to grant union of their people as well. And made it official in any galaxy or milky way they could possibly travel to.

She and Zed would be regarded as husband and wife in every universe.

Zed would have been happy even if they’d just had a courthouse wedding, but Addison deserved even more than this. But as long as he had her by his side, he’d follow her across every constellation if it made her happy.

The human holy man announced their official new titles as husband and wife. Zed barely waiting to be told he could kiss his bride before his delved in, their lips melding together for a passionate show of affection.

All their friends and family cheered. The day everyone knew would come to be since that fateful first day of freshman year was finally here. Zed and Addison’s someday.

Just a girl who married a zombie.

Their wedding was perfectly imperfect and that was perfectly fine with Addison. (And Zed.)

(Honeymoon imagine coming soon)

[oletus-carousel]

🎶 What are your opinions on your fellow backstage/cast members?

As was usual for the scatterbrained musical genius, a moment of tense silence hung in the air before she raised her head from her desk. She'd hardly realised that someone was waiting for her at the doorway, and the large eyes of the silent maid did nothing to comfort the paranoia that struck her so deeply.

A shudder worked its way down her spine, shaking the calligraphic pen atop the staff she wrote on. Of course there were more convenient ways to print her works, with the increase of technologies, but the woman was devoted to her craft enough that she'd not wanted anything to shift.

Change could spell disaster, and the show loomed ever closer.

Routine was the only thing she could afford, even if it meant things were taken slower. Sleepless nights were forced and limits pushed, eye-bags darkened against all advisory just for the perfect melody to be placed on page. She had to prove herself strong, so that the fellows of the stage would not think less of her.

Though the melody and harmony and twist of notes in ear would be carried throughout the play, her preparations would not. They had to be perfect. A pen's blot was cause for riot, red-eyed, and an unforgivable mistake. So she took another sheaf of ivory upon her desk, only allowing the stain of imperfection to serve as reference while she planned a complete rewrite.

There came a voice - sweet, inquisitive, humming question from the doorway, and when she looked the maid was gone. But, not dissuaded, the Maestro afforded a spoken reply, though she believed they wouldn't hear it regardless of how loudly she spoke. The time was long gone.

"My fellows on the Stage, you say?

You make me laugh. They seem not to care about me, they call me a recluse, but they just don't understand. Passion drives, you see, and I do not try to stop it. I have to do whatever I'm able before the curtains are pulled back - each and every note must fit the play to the second, perfectly tailored, and nothing less.

They appear to be good performers, yes, each one of them, and I do pay my due respect as to why they were chosen for their roles, but I'm more enamoured in the story behind them. One could even argue that I don't, depending on who you ask, but I'm simply not one to throw compliments about like they're something to be given casually.

The Angel of Music has swept me up, I daresay, and it'd be a hard task to get me out of that grip... Even now, I wander out of hand, away from task and question, in search of that beauty withheld...

What does it truly matter?

They'll laugh and mock and spit. The rose petals of finale wilt, the flies will gather in corpse of forgotten audience, but all that can save me is the melody. Would it be conceited of me to say so? Of course. But they just don't listen to me enough.

They're fools with masks on. Every single one. Not even that "thrill-seeker", as they dub themself, is true to their role. They put the angelic choir to shame, liken it to what it isn't. What it could never be. They're undeserving of the Angel's name, be it in fiction or not.

I am just called the Maestro, and I am true to that title."

[macuilsung]

@nobilismare​ sent via raw lines from unlikely sources:

“You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature.” from either Ferdie or Maribelle ;)

“So you say, but...”

Forwin would admit his first impression of the young lady of Themis wasn’t glowing, but even he couldn’t deny that her heart was in the right place. At the end of the day, she was only trying to help, but trying to add any amount of noble flair or teachings would not end well for anyone involved. The last thing a fair few in Abyss would want is to be reminded of why they choose to hide in the first place.

“...trust me, most of the people who are down there choose to stay down there for a reason, reasons even fewer among them are willing to share with others.” Of course, that included himself, and the bard would be damned if he ever spoke a word of it to anyone. “I’m saying this not just for their comfort, Maribelle, but for your personal safety as well.”

[galeforged]

Grabs you 12, 13, 22 for Forwin!

via Super detailed questions about your OCs (open!)

-

12. What is their favourite food? / 13. What is their least favourite food?

Tying these ones together!

As a result of his experiences, Forwin's horizons when it comes to food are... pretty broadened, compared to others. There is the matter of his noble upbringing so a lot of the meals he ate at the time were, of course, of high quality make. However, he did also manage to tour a good chunk of Fódlan, and had been exposed to a wide variety of dishes! Meals among commoners! Foods from the other nations!

And since beggars couldn't be choosers when he dropped down to a lower class and took to the road, along with a developing palate, Forwin already has a pretty good idea of what sort of foods he does enjoy and doesn't. He likes his foods flavourful and savoury, and loves to indulge in the odd sweet... but, hilariously, despite growing up close to the Adrestian coastline, he is not fond of fish (the same goes for sour foods). If he's to consume any sort of dish with fish in it, there better be enough of other items on his plate to offset it... or at least crisp up the fish somehow.

That might have something to do with the stench of fish churning his stomach. Perhaps something related to his Crest making him sensitive to certain odours? Or is it just a matter of personal preference? Maybe he just doesn't like the texture in his mouth? Who's to know!

As for what he prefers from the dining hall's offerings at Garreg Mach Monastery, here's the list!

Liked Meals

Saghert and Cream

Sweet Bun Trio

Sautéed Pheasant and Eggs

Peach Sorbet

Beast Meat Teppanyaki

Gronder Meat Skewers

Derdriu-Style Fried Pheasant

Vegetable Pasta Salad

Vegetable Stir-Fry

Sautéed Jerky

Garreg Mach Meat Pie

Gautier Cheese Gratin

Disliked Meals

Fish and Bean Soup

Fruit and Herring Tart

Fisherman’s Bounty

Fish Sandwich

Pickled Seafood and Vegetables

Cabbage and Herring Stew

Small Fish Skewers

Fried Crayfish

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

I wouldn't say he has any one insult that stands out, but that's not necessarily a bad thing for him either.

Because of how he was raised, Wyndell von Gerth got... really good at keeping to himself from young. That meant no speaking out of turn, no raising his voice, no talking back, and no whining off to anyone about nonsense. He grew up quiet and compliant... but, keep in mind, he was groomed to be the next Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Adrestian Empire. That's not small potatoes!

So, while Wyndell couldn't dissent from his father, he still picked up a few important skills in diplomacy and tact. He certainly picked up the vocabulary for it! Then on top of that, he ran from home and ended up in the care of a theatrical troupe! Yes, it did wonders in undoing a decent portion of the damage over the course of a couple of years on the road, and really helped him flourish as his own person. But it is with them he started to find his footing as a bard.

The education of a budding politician, mixed with a love for music and poetry, on top with the aplomb of a showman? It takes time for something to truly grow from this cocktail, well past the Academy Phase and his early days in the realm of Nohr, but by the time Forwin matures and returns to Fódlan? Watch out, chiefly to those who lord themselves over others, or insist on a completely wrong idea about himself or others, or people who are just plain awful!

By default, Forwin has a kind heart and won't seek to insult others with no good reason. He does not like conflict, and works to avoid it at all if it can be helped! However, if you succeed in drawing his ire and he feels confident enough in his own skin to stand up to you (ESPECIALLY in his later years), get ready for the dressing down of your life. This songster will mince no words and no sass in expressing how much he vehemently dislikes you, all while picking apart the reasons why!

As for an example of this side of him, here's one from the Academy Phase!

[moopysworld]

Something Real // Joey x reader¡Mary

Warnings: just some sexy tension and cute fluff from one of my favorite childhood movies :)

Joey drove me to my house after school. Successfully avoiding Dominique, we snuck into my bedroom.

My room was cute, pink and green scattered the walls, chairs, and bedding. I put up posters on the wall of my favorite dancers and singers, carefully removing Joey’s spot on the wall the other day when I knew he was coming over. I had been in love with the pop star since I was 11. Now it’s senior year and I just turned 18… and I might be still in love with him. This time though, he was in the same room as me.

Joey sat across the room in my fluffy pink chair. Strumming his guitar so effortlessly with his long fingers, he played a tune I hadn’t heard before. “You writing a new song?” I asked. He looked up from his guitar to see me laying across my bed in my tank top and long cargo pants, smiling at him. He took me in with his eyes, smirking when he saw my twinkling smile.

“Yeah” he replied, sitting up in the chair. “Wanna help me with the harmony?” Embarrassed, I refused… but determined as ever, there he goes, walking over to my bed. He sits down next to me in a huff. “I think you wanna help me with the harmony”

I agreed and he went to hand me the sheet with the song lyrics on it. Our fingers brushed together as he hands me the paper, looking down into my eyes. “This—this is as far as I got with the lyrics” he said, turning his head back to the guitar. “You ready?”

I looked at his fingers sliding against the strings waiting to play. I gulped, feeling nervous to sing in front of him. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I told him.

🎶 It’s become so hard

For me to be surprised

But you’re bringing back the real me

And no judgement in your eyes

It’s the way you make me feel

Like I’m finally something real 🎶

With those last couple lines, he stared deep into my eyes and I stared back… feeling every lyric. Feeling every ounce of meaning in the lines… like he wrote the song about me.

We sat just like that, staring deeply and wanting to lean in, to get closer to each other. He looked at my lips and up again into my eyes. Getting shy, I turned away. “Okay. Break time’s over” I playfully shoved him back, my hand firm on his chest. He looked down at my hand, smirking. “Back to resting,” I playfully said, pushing him away. I lay down on my back as he slowly went back to his chair.

Sighing, he looked at me with admiration from across the room. “You know, the reason I wanted to come back was to remember why I starting dancing in the first place. Dancing with you, I’m starting to remember.”

“Yeah?” Smiling, I looked up at him with my twinkling eyes.

“Yeah,” he said as he awkwardly drummed his hands on the chair, his stark blue eyes searing into me.

Still laying on my back, I turned back to the song sheet, trying to distract myself from the growing well of desire in me. But just as I did so, I felt two hands push on the bed sheets around me. There he was, his face directly above mine, flipped upside down from my vantage point. He is perfectly horizontal above me, towering over my face… his face less than one foot from mine. He smelled of mint and cedar, scents left from his frequent gum chewing and perfectly masculine cologne. I let out a soft moan as he leaned in. “You’re getting closer” he said.

“So are you” I replied.

He smirked. “I mean with your dance moves”

“You’re not looking so bad yourself,” I say as I reach up to his neck, starting to stroke the back of his head where his hair starts. He sighs, closing his eyes before opening them back up, looking ready to devour me.

I trail my fingers down to his arms, tracing his veins which makes him moan with desire.

“Why don’t we pick up again tomorrow, right here?” he suggests, trying to be respectful of my boundaries, seeing as this is one of our first times alone together in a room. He always wanted to make sure I was comfortable.

I grabbed his chin, dragging his face close to mine so my lips touch his ear. “I’m good right here,” I whispered. He let out a soft whimper as I kissed his ear delicately. Joey turned to look into my eyes, giggling and smiling at his girl.

I almost teared up, taking in all his warmth and beauty. He sank down to his knees and ran both his hands into my hair. I took his face into my hands the same way.

Spider-man style on my bed, just holding each other’s faces like that, we sank into a deep kiss.

[galeforged]

"Forwin, do you find Hubert attractive? Are you going to start yelling too?" - Byleth

Thusly did the bard well traveled almost inhale scalding hot tea from his cup at the suggestion. This was not the direction he anticipated tea time with Byleth would follow...

"Do I—w-what?! Hubert?" A wry smile completed his confused expression at the inquiry. "I mean, I know I led an adventurous life over the course of the last five years, Professor, but I wouldn't say I was anywhere near that adventurous, you know..." In spite of a notable increase in flamboyance and self-confidence on his part, Forwin's eyes only ever fell upon women in that regard, not men. At least he managed to turn it around into a joke, but... wait, were they expecting a serious answer from him?

"If I am to comment on him though... I suppose he does have a good sense for style. Not that he could have worn anything but the Academy outfits before, yet I can see how his new fit would catch the eye of some men and women. The large collar, the emphasis on his broad shoulders and lean physique... Sort of imposing but also gives off an air of reliability? Definitely worthy of one standing at Emperor Edelgard's immediate side. All black makes a good contrast next to her red, sure, but more importantly, it works well for him by himself visually." Alas, Forwin cannot comment on fashion as well as a certain prince's son he once knew could, so he would instead pick apart what he can elsewhere.

"More than anything else, his hair suits him a lot better than it did before; it shows off more of his face and you've an easier time looking into both of his eyes rather than the one. It draws out his charm and makes him look a lot more personable—approachable, even—though not to the extent that even I would want to bed him... or be bedded by him. With Hubert, I am only ever going to get the willies, rather than the vapours."

[galeforged]

👤+ andi // forwin!

via Send me 👤+ a character name for my muse’s opinion on that character (closed!)

"Y-you're... asking about House Glaes, this time?"

A pensive frown formed on the bard's face, already hard at work to pull all reference in mind to the modest barony that borders Enbarr. It had been quite some time since he last had to spare thought to Adrestian nobility—chief among them those outside of the Empire's six great noble families—but a few details still came to mind.

"If... I remember correctly, Andromeda von Glaes was originally supposed to become a court lady for Edelgard, but then..."

As Balthus would so colourfully put it, "everything went to shit" for House Glaes, almost seemingly overnight. It was not as if Forwin's vocabulary was anything like that of the Eloquent King of Grappling, or that he would say those exact words out loud, but the timing of the events that led to the Barony's fall from grace was... funny, and not in the gut-busting fashion. One problem begat another, and then another.

"So... Father all but stopped associating with House Glaes altogether after the Insurrection happened, which stood out as... odd to me, since Glaes wasn't implicated in what happened at all. Kept an eye on them from afar, certainly, but he never engaged with them properly again." Their situation was not like House Nuvelle's, to his memory. Roland had his hands tied by the other Houses and Prime Minister Aegir not to engage with that tragedy's sole survivor.

But in House Glaes's case... the man himself almost seemed perfectly willing to keep distance.

"I-I understand that the Baron's wife came from outside Fódlan, and their territory—though small—prospered thanks to some of the ideas she brought back with her. The Central Church didn't approve, but... hey, w-we haven't had a Southern Church in Adrestia for so long either. Empire marching to the beat of its own drum and all, but in their case, t-they were especially mindful of Saint Cethleann's teachings..."

Realizing he'd gone on a tangent, he shook his head to get his thoughts back in order before getting to the point.

"A-anyway, the last that Father associated with Glaes was... when Andromeda's mother passed. T-then Baron Alpin remarried, Andromeda fell ill for a short while, a-and... the barony just... stopped flourishing, or at least isn't what it used to be."

The territory's fall from grace, the new baroness marrying into the family, and Duke Gerth cutting all contact after the fact... Forwin pondered to himself if there was common ground between those three topics of concern.

"I wonder how they turned out, after all that... L-losing a parent is not a pleasant experience."

[galeforged]

👤 They haven't interacted yet but Forwin for Hillevi!

via Send me 👤+ a character name for my muse’s opinion on that character (open!)

"Of House Vogel-?"

Hindsight, cruel mistress be she, was not Forwin's friend when he and the other Ashen Wolves accepted Professor Eisner's invitation to join their class. Alas, it was too late for him to back down and change his mind now, not after he heard that the class they led was the Black Eagles'.

All he could do now was pray silently to Sothis that he would not get recognized by old friends and acquaintances, now students within the halls of the monastery above. Goddess, how the terrifying thought made his stomach churn and breath short...! If House Gerth's many years of self-imposed isolation served any actual purpose, years under which he suffered in silence as Wyndell, then please let them actually benefit him just this once-!

In any case, the Abyssian realized he kept present company waiting for too long. Best speak now before he loses track of this exchange altogether... or his heart lurches straight out of his chest. Whichever comes first. At least this would prove a good distraction.

"I-If memory serves me right, I may have met Hillevi once or twice when I was younger... w-well, really young. If I had, then the last I would've seen her would have been before the... the Insurrection of the Seven happened, I think?" Realizing his tone was a little wobbly and lacking in confidence, Forwin held his lute closer to his chest for comfort.

'Just breathe in, and out, little bard...' Sage advice he recalled from his days with the troupe came to mind, and with them followed, he pressed on.

"Any interactions Father had with his co-conspirators, after the coup... It was all strictly business where affordable, and kept to a strict minimum. Of them all, though, he held greatest contempt and distrust towards Duke Aegir. The Insurrection marked the last I spoke to a lot of the other noble children, especially Aegir-associated houses, Vogel among them. I was never really told why, though..."

Ultimately, Vogel's case was not really that big a loss. Despite Duke Gerth's closer proximity and similar status, the Baron Emmerich von Vogel seemed to bypass him often, all in favour of cozying up to the Prime Minister further south more. Just distant familial relations, or was it eyes on a greater prize? Nobles would typically trip over themselves when presented with some promise of greater power after all, and as Wyndell, Forwin knew it all too well.

"Whether it was because we actually met once as young children, or if her name was just one of many that Father threw my way to rake my... inadequacies over the coals for..." Forwin grew quiet from the recollection, resentment burning in his chest as he remembered almost ceaseless disparagement resounding loudly in his ears, but he tried not to let it show through the light grimace on his face. "...the reason eludes me, yet the name 'Hillevi' makes me think of someone... demure. Polite. Well-behaved."

If only Forwin knew just how much of a kindred spirit she was in that realm.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't offer you more than that where Hillevi is concerned. If meeting the Eagles actually works out for the best tomorrow, I'll offer some proper thoughts on her once I get to know her."