#I cried an embarrassingly high amount of times

[rafeandonlyrafe]

t-ball

words: 1k

warnings: dad!rafe, other moms being haters, mention of plastic surgery

“i want mommy.” poppy says for the tenth time in the past minute, crossing her arms with a pout on her face, contrasting the cuteness of the bright pink jersey and pigtails in her hair.

“i told you, she’ll be here before your next game starts.” rafe says, pulling his daughter onto his lap, adjusting the baseball cap on her head. poppy is 4 years old and just started t-ball, having her first double header this weekend. thankfully, they’re given a enough time in between the games to have some lunch and unwind, not the the games are anything more than most of the other 4-year olds playing in the grass or throwing rocks at each other.

“aww, she misses her mommy?” one of the moms sitting nearby rafe asks, obviously eavesdropping on the conversation.

“yeah.” rafe says, chuckling as poppy buries her face into his chest in shyness. “she had an appointment this morning, but she will be here soon.”

rafe is uncomfortable with the amount of attention the other moms give him. it’s probably because he always takes poppy to practice, leaving you home to cook dinner and give a quick tidy up or relax while he watches her adorable attempts to swing the heavy baseball bat high enough to hit the ball. he loves being involved in his daughter's life, making a real effort to parent and do as much for her as you do, and one of his responsibilities is taking her to t-ball practice, just like how you always bathe her, or he always makes her breakfast in the mornings.

“will this be her first game of the season?”

rafe is confused by the question, considering it’s only the third weekend of games, and he’s never seen a couple of the girl’s dads, so why is this lady trying to call you out?

“it will.” he says curtly. 

“mommy isn’t around much, huh?” the mom still pries, this time directing her question to poppy.

poppy sniffles, trying to hold back her cries for a moment, before letting them out, “leave me alone, i want my mommy!” 

“i know, poppy.” rafe says, shushing her, giving the mom a stern glare. “poppy’s mom, and my wife, is a wonderful mother who is very much invested in her daughter’s life. she is just also a busy woman, who runs her own business. just because i bring poppy to practice and games, doesn’t give you any right to speculate. i haven’t seen your husband at all. is he not around much?”

the woman frowns and finally turns away, which does make poppy stop crying, but doesn’t cheer her up enough to do anything but stay leaned against rafe in his lawn chair, looking sad.

“you better not be pouting over me, little miss.”

poppy instantly perks up at your voice. “mommy, mommy, mommy!” she launches herself at you, and you catch her in a hug.

“hi baby.” you hold her close, letting her bury her head into your neck.

“hello, beautiful.” rafe says as you lean down to give him a kiss. he deepens it with a hand on the back of your neck, hoping that all those other women trying (and failing embarrassingly) to flirt with him when he’s alone with poppy realize how head over heels he is in love with you.

“how was your first game?” you ask poppy, sliding onto rafe’s lap, ignoring the empty lawn chair next to him. you thank yourself in that moment for buying the heavier duty expensive chairs, as you’re not concerned about them taking the weight of all three of you at all.

“good! i hit the ball three times!” poppy holds up three fingers, looking proud. “and i even got one girl out on first base!”

“no way!” you say, giving poppy a kiss, having missed your daughter desperately, but you have exciting news that means you’re gonna be taking some time off work soon. you run a small chain of local boutiques, and have finally built up a good staff that means you can trust them while you take some time away.

“it’s almost time for your next game, poppy.” rafe says, noticing the coach starting to get ready. 

“okay, daddy!” poppy hops up off your lap, grabbing her comically big baseball bag and heading off with a wave to the dugout. 

“i’m so glad i could make it.” you say, running your hand through rafe’s hair and giving him another kiss as you watch poppy take the field for warmups.

“me too. she’s so excited for you to watch. doesn’t even care about her dad.” he squeezes your side to show that he was joking. “how was your appointment?”

you’re about to answer when you hear a scoff. you look up, unbeknownst to you it’s the close friend of the woman flirting with rafe earlier. “is there a problem?” you were never one to back down from confrontation.

“appointment? what was this one for? getting your butt done just like your boobs?”

your mouth drops open in shock. you’ve never gotten any cosmetic surgery, but even if you had, it is not this womans business who you’ve never even seen before to comment on it.

“you know, i’m glad you think my natural boobs are so good that they’re fake. it’s a real compliment to me.”

“that’s not-” the woman goes to reply, but you cut her off.

“i bet you’re one of those weird moms who my husband has told me has been attempting to flirt with him. i’ll let you know to back off right now because the appointment i went to was a pregnancy check up. he’s very happy with me. he’s not interested in you.”

rafe doesn’t even bother to hold back his laugh as she gets up and storms off, taking her chair with her to sit further down the field.

“she’s got a shit view now.” you laugh, turning your attention back to poppy, completely unbothered by the interaction.

“i love you.” rafe says.

“oh, i know.” you smile.

[rowanmuppet]

oh and mischa too!!!

Okay I just wrote the penny one and I am on a ROLL so. Mischa bachinski my beloved

- First of all. Mischa has two hands and I won't hear otherwise. Talia is REAL damn it but Mischa is also bisexual and in love with Noel. End of

- He watched the titanic for the first time on the phone with talia and cried EMBARRASSINGLY hard. Not embarrassing because he's supposed to be manly or whatever, embarrassing like he woke up the next day and his eyes were almost swollen shut from crying so hard. Like that movie really affected him

- Noel would ask to watch it with him and he'd immediately say no because he doesn't want to be literally dehydrated from crying again

- He would put talia on the phone during choir and everyone would talk to her (more like them telling Mischa what to say and him translating but they all love her)

- Ocean would insist on singing whatever song they're working on for her and she'd just sit there like wow 😁👍!!! She has no idea what's going on but she's along for the ride

- He is trying to teach everyone Ukrainian to moderate success

- he has an annoyed siblings relationship with ocean which everyone says but seriously!!! They get on each other's nerves so much but ocean would kill a man for him and he's DEFINITELY gotten into a fight for her

- picks ocean up like a folding chair and carries her around. Or like a cat under the armpits and so she's just dangling there

- absolutely terrified of rollercoasters but went on the cyclone anyway because he's a manly man. Obviously. But then he died

- literally almost threw up getting off the graviton. Thought he was literally going to die

- wholeheartedly believes in Santa. Literally will not be convinced he isn't real. Everyone in the choir feeds into this and says their presents to him were from Santa and were dropped off at their house instead of his bc he doesn't have a chimney (in like an everyone lives situation cause yk they weren't really friends before)

- really it's because his adoptive parents didn't get him anything but he doesn't have to know that they're supposed to be santa

- is actually genuinely successful on YouTube 😭 nobody wants to believe him and I doubt the choir before the accident cared to check they just half listened to him talk about his songs like "yeah that's great buddy" but he has a pretty decent following

- I'm sure a good amount of them are ironic but that's okay

- he'd get one of those "THIS SHIT IS FIRE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 PUT IT OUT 🔥🔥🔥" comments and take it as a compliment

- has unmedicated ADHD. I don't make the rules I only enforce them

- he literally can't sit still in any situation at all ever, nor can he focus on anything if there isn't 5 other things going on. Constantly understimulated. Constance would give him a fidget spinner and his grades would immediately go up a letter or two

- honestly Mischa and constance are best friends in my heart

- she would try to teach him how to bake/cook and he would burn everything

- "Mischa no wonder it's burnt! It's been on high for 15 minutes it's just a grilled cheese" "why cook for long time on low heat when I could cook for short time on high heat 🤨??" "because it will burn before the cheese melts!!!!"

- Ocean is PISSED that he's always at Constance's house when she goes over to hang out (she would spend virtually all her time there fr) but Constance's little brother loves him

- wears almost exclusively sweat pants/giant t shirts with ironic slogans. "The worst day of fishing beats the best day of 'court ordered' anger management classes'"

- the kind of mf to wear gym shorts and slides in 4 inches of snow like dude 😦

- lets noel paint his nails every time they hang out. immediately forgets they're painted and either smudges it or if it somehow manages to dry bites/picks it off immediately

- he will never complain but he hates the way it makes his nails feel heavier

- ocean would get him a sticker book to motivate him to do his homework (his grades are not good and if they get too low he won't be allowed to participate in choir)

- so now his books/homework are covered in stickers

- spends a devastatingly long time on his hair only for it to immediately be ruined when he leaves the house

- it's almost impressive how quickly it just turns into a total mess

- that's what the hat is for

- regarding my penny rock head canon. He gets SO EXCITED when she gives him one

- "this reminded me of you" *least visually interesting rock you've ever seen* "YOOOOO IT IS LIKE ME!!!"

- not a big fan of the bugs though

- genuinely terrified of them. He'd see penny with bugs and feel like ants are on him for the next several minutes

That's all for rn cause this is getting long!!

[plaidpyjamas]

yeah I'm just gonna keep posting these on main fuck it. they're too unpolished for my fic blog but I gotta put 'em SOMEWHERE

Comfort/Love Languages Bucky/Desmond/Loki mostly inspired by me finally sewing little thumbholes on one of my shirts after a solid 2 decades wanting to but never actually doing it for some reason???

anway

Desmond is very physical, he has to be touching one or both of his partners almost all the time. He’s not quite used to how loud, bright, and distracting the world is, so when he’s out in public with either of his partners, he’ll be glued to their side or he’ll have a deathgrip on their sleeve or something. At home he is pretty much on top of one of them half the time lmao. Like if either Bucky or Loki sit down on the couch/bed/whatever and Des doesn’t have anything to do? He’s just gonna climb on up there - ope, s’cuse me…

Weakness: neck kisses and just a really good hug tbh just come hold him this poor man is t r a u m a t i z e d 

Bucky is more focused on acts of service. He’s the one who will get up early as fuck just to make sure he and his partners all have coffee - the amount of times he’s gone out  in shitty weather just because a half-asleep Desmond said he was craving an iced latte from his favorite cafe - is embarrassingly high.

Weakness: That one time Desmond, after noticing Bucky kept pulling all his sleeves down over his hands, handsewed little thumbholes for him on a bunch of his shirts. He almost cried (he definitely cried)

Also the fact that Desmond and Loki have started learning how to make their fancy cafe orders at home, because they felt guilty about “making” him go out all the time

Loki is all about quality time. He’s almost like a cat (well. They all are. But him especially) in that if he likes you, he’ll just….exist around you. A lot. Like a lot a lot. It freaked Bucky out initially - he thought Loki was trying to do something to him or just like….watching him - but Desmond explained it, and had the two of them actually…talk about it. (They’re idiots i stg).Now that they’re all on the same page, it’s pretty uncommon to see one of them alone

Weakness: Whenever Desmond, Buky, or both of them take a day off/set a day aside to spend time with him. If they outright tell him they’re all his, he just about loses his mind. He’s adorable tbh

[impeccablebackside]

any characters that would always become horny when drunk? and how would their significant other react?

I appreciate the question anon. I will admit that I do not drink at all (I am loosely straight edge - I know, so cool of me), so this ask is not something I have thought about. Either way, I say that truly drunk people are not really very sexy when they are past that threshold of being drunk versus just 'simply drinking'. I am sure we can all appreciate the stereotypical stumbling or slurring kind of way about drunk folk that honestly renders them more childlike or infantile that a normal adult would be. I am also not big on the idea of someone losing their inhibitions under the influence of whatever thing. Does that sound super pedantic? I am sure it does, so apologies anon and dear followers. No judgement on my end, I promise.

It is not to say that a few drinks or whatever are not generally fun or could not enhance any sex though, so please let me be clear on that. Casual drinking is all well and good, and if there were alcohol or other things that the cats could / would get their paws on, then all the better. I know they would be responsible and have an ability to do it in moderation, and if not, personal choice in the end.

Thinly masked analogies aside, there is certainly a lot of variance in how any of the characters would act while drunk and further how horny they would become.

Vic, if she did drink (which would not be much, both in amount and frequency - she is a big time light weight), gets so unbelievably sappy and loving when she is drunk. One of those girls who sits there and cries because she loves everyone and everything so much and 'you have no idea how much you mean to me' kind of drunk. When she sees Plato, she is literally hanging off of him giving him kisses, hugging him, and nuzzling him because she loves him so much that 'he doesn't understand'.

Plato does not drink for personal reasons, and he is extra protective when he finds his loving little queen to be so emotional in her drunken state. He will carry her home and make sure she is safe, curled up beside her while she murmurs to herself about how nice he always is to her and that 'she doesn't deserve it'.

Rumple, perhaps unexpectedly, gets really sad when she is drunk. Sort of like an emotional clarity that brings a realization to all the sad things in her life. It makes her reflect on why she is the way she is with being so hedonistic, and it's really a bummer for her. Rumple carefully avoids drinking too much as a result.

Mungo sorts of gets like Victoria when drunk, where he is extra clingy with his little calico, and certainly reminds her a dozen times an hour how much he loves her. He also makes sure she swears that she does indeed love him too, honestly, for real. Being drunk does make the tom horny, but as soon as he is raring to go, he ends up passing out / falling asleep wherever he is and sleeping it off.

Tanto abstains from drinking. Introducing something that could alter her mental state has never appealed to her, and through her own meditation she can reach a different mind-plane anyway. The queen can effectively change her mood and yearnings if she quite literally sets her mind to do it. As a result, she can make herself horny beyond just thinking about ass and pussy.

Cori gets ridiculously horny when drunk, almost embarrassingly so. He wants to fuck anyone and everyone, and runs around haphazardly with a boner hoping for a partner to agree on a go-around. While he rarely remembers fully what he was like, he has been told that he fucks like an actual animal when drunk in the most thrilling way.

Cass has a rather high tolerance, and is essentially never drunk. Having some (or more) alcohol in her does not make her hornier per-se, but it makes her more aggressive during sex. More biting, more clawing, more of that good-good femdom fun. She lets her inner tiger out.

Alonzo also can drink others under the table and completely walk it off afterwards. Being drunk also makes him more aggressive, but in a negative way. He is a 'wants to fight drunk', but is smart enough to ration his intake so that he does not become an asshole.

Bomba gets progressively horneir the more she drinks (up to a point of course), and it makes her sexual appetite ravenous. Luckily for her, Tugger is exactly the same way. What starts off as innocuous turns into both of them mounting the other while rubbing their bits against the other's body. Partly alcohol-fuelled fuckfests between them leads to messier sex too, with either of them slobbering on the other's parts and cum literally everywhere after multiple creampies or cumshots from the tom.

Misto is a lightweight with drinking, but his tolerance is rarely the same from day to day. Sometimes a bit will get him off his ass, and the tom gets into a horny and submissive headspace. Realistically, he ends up roped into Bomba and Tugger's escapades, and gets used like he wants.

Deme does not get horny when drunk, she gets sort of silly. Letting out her more joyful nature in off occurrences, she ends up as a giggling mess that is not at all typical of her sober self. Munk, who is ironically the same way, finds it endearing. When they both end up drunk, they think their partner is the funniest person they have ever met and will tell lame jokes or do impersonations of other cats late into the night.

Jenny gets very loose while drunk, and in her more relaxed mood, she always finds it to be a perfect time to give anyone in the immediate area a stripshow and lap dance. It is not from a place of horny need, she just thinks it is fun as hell to get wild and swing her titties around in other's face. Others do agree on that too.

Busto is a whatever the feline equivalent of a sommelier would be. Tasting and savouring his alcohol, and sometimes overdoing it. Drunk Busto is a party animal of sorts that pushes aside his elegant demeanor in favour of (still fully) enjoying life and treating others to a bit of his luxurious life. He the proverbial leader that will drag also drunk friends from place to place eating well before they retire for the night in a cozy spot. While not overly horny, things usually end up happening, and the fat tom always ends up getting some.

Skimble is a functional alcoholic in a way, with a hip flask filled with his favoured scotch for whenever he needs an extra kick. He is known to take a swig before fucking his partners good, but it does not make his performance any different.

Jelly is a once of year / does not drink kind of queen, so it is sort of a mute point that drunk Jelly becomes very horny. She particularly likes dressing up as Griddle and going to town on whoever is around.

AGus drinks far more often, and ends up getting very sleepy when he gets drunk. Nap time is sometimes just as rewarding as ass-slap time for him.

[thehimbolineage]

My Favourite Quotes From the Revenge of the Sith Novelisation in a Stupidly Long Post.

Because Matthew Stover is a genius. (It’s mostly just quotes that make me sad).

“Across the Republic- in words or pheromones, in magnetic pulses, tentacle-braids, or mental telepathy- the message from the younglings is the same: Don’t worry. It’ll be alright. Anakin and Obi-Wan will be there any minute.”

“It’s not uncommon for an exasperated parent to ask, when faced with offspring who have just tried to pull off one of the spectacularly dangerous bits of foolishness that are stock-in-trade oh high-spirited younglings everywhere, So, which were you supposed to be, Kenobi or Skywalker?”

“Obi-Wan kept hoping to hear some of Anakin's old cocky grin in his tone, but he never did. Not since Jabim. Perhaps not since Geonosis. The war had burned it out of him. Obi-Wan still tried, now and again, to spark a real smile in his former Padawan. And Anakin still tried to answer. They both still tried to pretend the war hadn't changed them.”

“[Obi-Wan] is the ultimate Jedi. And he is proud to be Anakin Skywalker’s best friend.”

“They are closer than friends. Closer than brothers… Neither can imagine their life without the other. The war has forged their two lives into one.”

“Anakin and Obi-Wan would never fight each other. They couldn’t. They’re a team. They’re the team. And both of them are sure they always will be.”

““Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin’s arm. “There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man.”

Anakin turned and found within Obi-Wan’s eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him felt like a promise from the Force itself.”

When the Jedi Council asks Obi-Wan to lie to Anakin.

““We-” Obi-Wan shook his head helplessly. “We don’t keep secrets from each other.””

Any time Obi-Wan openly disagrees with and argues with the Council on Anakin’s behalf.

When Anakin loses it at the Council.

““Anakin,” Obi-Wan said softly. He gestured to an empty seat beside him. “Please.”

And something in Obi-Wan’s gentle voice, in his simple, straightforward request, sent his anger slinking off ashamed, and Anakin found himself standing alone on the carpet in the middle of the Jedi Council, blinking.

He suddenly felt very young, very foolish.”

Obi-Wan speaking.

““[Anakin] will stop at nothing to save me, for example, because he thinks I would do the same for him.”

Mace and Yoda gazed at him steadily, and Obi-Wan had to lower his head.

“Because,” he admitted reluctantly, “he knows I would do the same for him.””

Obi-Wan discusses his discontent with making Anakin spy on Palpatine.

““Yes,” [Obi-Wan] said slowly. “That’s why I don’t think [Anakin] will ever trust us again.”

He found his eyes turning unaccountably hot, and his vision swam with unshed tears.

“And I’m not entirely sure he should.””

“For a moment [Padmé] said nothing, but as [Obi-Wan’s] footsteps receded she said, “Obi-Wan?”

She heard him stop.

“You love him, too, don’t you?”

When he didn’t answer, she turned to look. He stood motionless, frowning, in the middle of the expanse of buff carpeting.

“You do. You love him.”

He lowered his head. He looked very alone.

“Please do what you can to help him,” he said, and left.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin’s conversation before Obi-Wan leaves for Utapau.

“So no, it wasn’t that [Anakin] wanted to go. It was more, inexplicably, that he wanted Obi-Wan to stay. There was a cold void in his chest that he was afraid would soon fill with regret, and grief.”

More of that conversation.

“…if he could just tag along and play the Kenobi and Skywalker game for a few days, everything might still be alright.”

“Now [Obi-Wan] really missed Anakin…”

“Which made [Obi-Wan] also aware, again without surprise and without distress, that he would very likely die here.

Contemplation of death brought only the slight sting of regret, and more than a bit of puzzlement. Until this very moment, he had never realised he’d always expected, for no discernible reason-

That when he died, Anakin would be with him.”

Anakin’s first proper words to Windu after finding out about Palpatine.

“Anakin took Mace’s arm in a grip of desperate strength, and used it like a crutch to hold himself upright.

“Obi-Wan…,” he said faintly. “I need to talk to Obi-Wan—!””

Obi-Wan’s beautifully written reaction to Order-66 aboard Bail’s ship.

“A curve of knuckle, skinned, black scab corrugated with dirt and leaking read—

The fringe of fray at the cuff of a beige sleeve, dark, crusted with splatter from the death of a general—

The tawny swirl of grain in wine-dark tabletop of polished Alderaanian kriin—

These were what Obi-Wan Kenobi could look at without starting to shake.

The walls of the small conference room on the Tantive IV were too featureless to hold his attention; too look at a wall allowed his mind to wander…

And the shaking began.

The shaking got worse when he met the ancient green state of the tiny alien seated across the table… The shaking got worse still when he turned to the other being in the room, because he wore politician’s clothes that reminded Obi-Wan of the enemy who still lived.”

“Obi-Wan fought to stay in his chair; the pain inside him demanded motion. It became wave after wave of tremors.”

“Grief punched a gasp from his chest… Obi-Wan sank to his knees beside the fallen Jedi.”

““This wound, no blaster could make.”

An icy void opened in Obi-WAN’s heart. It swallowed his pain and grief, leaving behind a precariously empty calm.”

Obi-Wan’s reaction to the confirmation of Anakin as Darth Vader. (This killed me).

“Obi-Wan, staring, wished that he had the strength to rip his eyes out of his head. But even blind, he would see this forever. He would see his friend, his student, his brother, turn and kneel in front of a black-cloaked Lord of the Sith.

His head rang with a silent scream…

Fumbling nervously, Obi-Wan somehow managed to shut down the holoscan. He leaned on the console, but his arms would not support him; they buckled and he twisted to the floor.

He huddled against the console, blind with pain.”

““Don’t make me kill Anakin,” [Obi-Wan] said. “He’s like my brother, Master.””

“After thousands of hours in lightsaber sparring, they knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than others; they were complementary halves of a single warrior.”

“This was not Sith against Jedi. This was not light against dark or good against evil; it had nothing to do with duty or philosophy, religion or morals.

It was Anakin against Obi-Wan. Personally. Just the two of them and the damage they had done to each other.”

“The man he faces was everything Obi-Wan had devoted his life to destroying: Murderer. Traitor. Fallen Jedi. Lord of the Sith. And here, and now, despite it all…

Obi-Wan still loved him.”-

“This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, forever:

The first dawn of light in your universe brings pain. The light burns you. It will always burn you. Part of you will always lie upon black glass sand beside a lake of fire while flames chew upon your flesh.

You can hear yourself breathing. It comes hard, and harsh, and it scraped nerves already dawn but you cannot stop it. You can never stop it. You cannot even slow it down. You don’t even have lungs anymore.”

“There was no Vader. There was only you. Only Anakin Skywalker.

That it was all you. Is you.

Only you. You did it. You killed her.

You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself…

It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith—

Because now your self is all you’ll ever have.”

THIS BOOK CAUSED ME PAIN.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

❛ come back to bed. ❜ passionate sex in the middle of the night when reader goes to the bathroom and steve wakes up😭

here we gooooooo

When Steve woke up, his room was still dark and the space beside him was empty and cold. 

It didn’t take him long to find you, his house empty and quiet apart from the hum of his refrigerator and the soft running of the kitchen tap. He found you against the counter, feet and legs bare, his old gym shirt hanging over your thighs.

He watched you in the glow of the moon, the streetlights that snuck their way through the paned windows as you sipped the last of your water, placing the empty glass in the sink with almost too much care - he knew you were trying to stay quiet and not wake him.

But you didn’t seem all that surprised when he walked into the kitchen, feet padding against the tiles, chest bare and cotton shorts low in his hips.

“Baby,” Steve mumbled in greeting, sleep still tugging at him, his body still warm from bed as he wrapped himself around you. “Y’alright?”

You hummed, letting him tuck you into him, your face pressed to his chest, lips pushed into a kiss over his collar bone. He still smelled like the cologne you’d watched him put on that morning, mint toothpaste, home and Steve.

You nodded, smiling when his lips found your forehead, kisses pressed to your temple, the high of your cheekbone, the corner of your lashes. “Yeah, just a little unsettled,” you whispered, “I didn’t wanna wake you m’sorry.”

But Steve tutted, kissing your apology off of your lips with a firm kiss. It was soft and slow, just like the night and the boy didn’t have to ask what had you evading sleep. There was enough bad in the world for nightmares to seep into your sleep, but Steve figured that regular encounters with creatures from another dimension would definitely make those dreams less sweet. 

So he soothed a hand over your hair, tucked the sleep mussed strands behind an ear and kissed you once more, even slower, lazy and languid with the promise of something a little dirtier. It made you huff out a breath over his cheek, your mouth opening against his without Steve needing to ask.

He pulled back then, a small smile, eyes all fond, his thumb pressed to your chin to keep your mouth hovering just within reach of his own.

“Come back to bed,” he murmured. 

You didn’t hesitate to follow the boy back up the stairs and you were already expecting it when he slanted his lips back over your own as he closed his bedroom door behind you both, shutting you both in blue darkness and the quiet.

Clumsy feet took you both back to bed, falling back into messy sheets together, down into pillows that smelled like laundry detergent and Steve. 

“Can I make you feel better?” Steve was murmuring against your mouth between kisses, between teeth and tongue, soft nips and licks. “You gonna let me make it better, sweetheart?”

You nodded, warm and pressed underneath him, and honestly? It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Steve to slide inside of you. He’d been hard since he kissed you in the kitchen and he made quick work of licking into your mouth with kisses that were meant to drive you a little crazy, hot and slow and dirty, hands that wandered all soft before they found a part of your body they loved and fingers dug into your skin appreciatively.

You’d have Steve shaped bruises on your hips in the morning, the curve of your ass, the soft skin on the inside of your thighs. 

The pace he set against you was just as lazy as his kisses, just as dizzying, mouth only just hovering against your own as he swallowed your moans and cries, one of his large hands gripping underneath your thigh, hitching your knee up high to your hip, spreading you open for him. 

The other had your own hand pressed to the pillow by your head, fingers tangled, his hips rutting it your own over and over and over and over. His cock was a thick and slow stretch inside of you and Steve hissed every time you clenched down on him, eyes fluttering shut as you grew closer and closer to the orgasm he was desperate to give you. 

“Tell me,” he whispered, voice rougher than usual. His brow was furrowed as he tried his hardest to hold himself together, waiting for you to fall first. “C’mon, baby, tell me. Let me know, huh?”

“I’m close-” you choked out, back arching, head pressed back into the pillow and your jaw went slack, “m’gonna come, Steve-”

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” Steve’s hips snapped forward, a stutter in his thrusts that let you know he was right behind you. 

His hand left your own and you whined at the loss of comfort, but he was kissing away your protests, that hand falling to the space between your thighs instead. Steve rubbed circles into your clit, fingers wet with you, messy, fast movements that had you keening. 

“See?” he told you, cooing. “Told you I’d make it better for you, huh? That’s my girl, there you go.”

[blog-name-idk]

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 31 - Fin

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 5688

~~~~~

The house was clean, the food was cooked, you had just showered, and Jackson was due to arrive at any minute. So there was really no reason as to why you were currently splayed on your bed with Jin between your legs.

Well, that was a lie. Besides suggestive texts which ultimately ended in you leaving him high and dry, you had perhaps taken an excessive amount of relish in brushing against him here and there while the two of you cooked. So maybe you had rubbed your ass against his crotch when passing him to grab ingredients despite the large size of the kitchen. Several times. And perhaps you had slipped out of his grip with a cheeky grin every time he tried to hug or kiss you. Did that really mean he had to corner you in your room and literally seduce the pants off of you?

Apparently it did.

"My brother's gonna be here soon," you protested as he placed soft kisses on the insides of your thighs. You wriggled half-heartedly away, as if you hadn't let him crowd you onto your bed and peel off the underwear you had literally just put on. He paused in his ministrations to look at you with narrowed eyes, and you felt your face grow warm at the ravenous expression on his face.

"You weren't thinking about him when you were teasing me in the kitchen," Jin replied mercilessly, before leaning in to swipe his tongue along your glistening folds. You gasped and unintentionally shoved your hips closer towards him, and he smirked as your actions betrayed your true feelings. His tongue traveled upwards to flick at your clit and any further rational thought immediately fled your brain.

"Oh god, Jinnie," you whimpered, hands tangling in his perfect hair as his tongue worked to dismantle you. The groan that vibrated against you when he heard his nickname was enough to make you rub yourself against his face shamelessly.

"W-we should - " your protests died as he pressed a finger into you, and he hissed at the sensation of you snug and wet around him. After all the sex you'd had in the past week, you wouldn't have expected yourself to be riled up so embarrassingly quickly, and yet here you were, eager and pliant under Jin's burning touch.

"We should… ?" he asked, ceasing his actions and looking at you with darkness glimmering in his eyes. As soon as you opened your mouth to say something, he let another finger breach your entrance, and the stretch was enough to make you collapse onto your back with a strangled moan.

"Fuck," you breathed eloquently when he crooked those sinful fingers inside of you. Jin smirked and brought his lips back between your legs. He lapped at your swollen clit almost lazily, his searing gaze fixed on the pretty scrunch of your face as he dragged his fingers inside of you.

Then he curled his lips around the sensitive bud and gave the gentlest suck, and you cried out before clapping your hands over your mouth reflexively. Jin gave a devilish chuckle that sent even more tingles through your body.

"Everyone's downstairs," he told you, his fingers fucking into you easily despite the way your walls were clamping down on them. "So feel free to sing for me, princess."

His mouth returned to its warm licks and sucks, and you gasped and moaned as he brought you closer towards the edge. His free hand trailed up to pinch your nipple almost harshly, tearing another moan from your throat as your hips jolted against his mouth. Your grip on his hair tightened, and your thighs clenched around him. You were so, so close.

The doorbell rang, and Jin pulled back, leaving you hot and empty and teetering on the edge. You pouted as you felt your orgasm slip away, and he gave you a cruel smirk.

"I guess we should finish getting ready," he said nonchalantly, as if his pupils weren't blown wide with lust. You bit your lip, eyeing the bulge of his cock straining against his pants.

"Jinnie, please," you whined, wiggling your hips enticingly. Jin licked his lips and dragged a finger teasingly down your dripping folds, but shook his head with a wicked glint in his eye. Then he got up and began adjusting his own clothes. You realized that this was his revenge and you pouted harder.

"You're mean," you complained as you started getting off your bed, still acutely aware of the throb between your legs. In a flash, you were back on your back, caged between strong, nice-smelling arms.

"I wanted to be a gentleman," Jin whispered hotly against your ear before licking a stripe down it. You gasped and grabbed at his collar to bring him closer, but he resisted. "But I think you like when I'm a little mean."

"I-I mean," you stammered, face flushing as he began to nibble lightly down your neck. It was impossible to come up with anything coherent when you were enveloped by his warmth and his scent and his mouth was on your skin.

"Isn't that why you've been teasing me?" His fingers dipped low to toy with your pussy again, but as soon as you pressed into his hand he was back on his feet. "You're lucky I'm a patient man."

With that, Jin was out the door, leaving you staring after him vaguely confused and completely unsatisfied. That fucking bitch.

~~~~~

Ding dong.

Oh no. Ohnononono. Jackson was here, and you were still upstairs getting ready. But they couldn't just leave him at the door, that would be suspicious. Namjoon swallowed hard, and the maknaes did nothing to settle his nerves as they prodded him towards the entrance. Gathering his courage and testosterone and hoping it wasn't the last his body was about to produce, he opened the front door to greet his friend. To his surprise, he was immediately engulfed in a hug.

"Hey Joon! It's great to see you again!"

Well, that was certainly a more promising greeting than the dismemberment Namjoon had been expecting. He cautiously hugged his friend back.

"Hey listen man, I'm sorry about overreacting before. I know you've been looking out for [y/n]."

"Haha, no problem…" Namjoon responded awkwardly, wondering if this reprieve was a blessing or a curse. If he didn't correct Jackson now, did it count as lying to him? This hadn't been in his projections, he didn't have an adequate course of action prepared. And Mina wasn't due for another twenty minutes, after they had time to sit Jackson down and get a drink into him before breaking the news.

"Hi Jackson-hyung! We're glad you're back!" chirped Jimin, popping up next to Namjoon to say hello. "Do you want a drink? Jin-hyung got you some moutai!"

"No way, that's like a ridiculous splurge," said Jackson in disbelief, though he let the younger boy lead him into the kitchen, where the others were waiting.

"But it's your favorite, right?" Taehyung asked, pouring him a small shot glass while he greeted the rest of the housemates. Your brother laughed and accepted the glass, taking an appreciative sniff.

"Wow you guys are really spoiling me! If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to butter me up."

Fortunately, Jackson had closed his eyes to take a sip, and he missed the way everyone tensed at his words.

"W-why would we do that? Haha you're so funny man." Namjoon internally cringed when he realized he literally said "haha" out loud. God he was terrible at this. Where were you and Jin? Why were you taking so long?

"You okay dude?" His friend asked in concern, making it clear his fumbles did not go unnoticed. He heard a poorly disguised snort from Yoongi and wondered if he should've written a will before this.

"Oh, hyung just has really bad gas today!" Said Jimin brightly, attempting to come to his rescue. It was lucky Jackson was gullible, because that had possibly been the worst excuse Namjoon had ever heard. Hobi looked like he was seconds away from either laughing or crying.

"Hey Jackson," said Jin from the kitchen entrance as he walked in to give him a one-armed hug. "[Y/n] and I were cooking. I'm guessing I cleaned up faster but she'll probably be down soon."

"Oh hell yeah! I missed your cooking. And hers," your brother cheered, looking excited. Okay great, things were back on track and he was in a good mood.

"Why don't we hang out in the living room while we wait?" suggested Namjoon, realizing the kitchen knives were within arms reach of his friend. Yes, the living room would definitely be safer.

"Sure," said Jackson, allowing Jungkook to top off his glass again before everyone moved locations.

Despite the anxiety thrumming through his veins, it really was great to see his old friend again. Jackson just had such a genuinely warm, inviting presence that it was almost impossible not to feel drawn into his aura. It was enough for Namjoon to almost forget what he'd done to the guy that had bothered you your freshman year. Almost.

"BROOO!" you bellowed, careening down the stairs. At your voice, Jackson shot up from the couch with a huge grin on his face and waited for you to reach him. For some reason, you paused to stomp on Jin's foot before you leapt on your brother, who caught you easily.

"Pipsqueak!" he said with a laugh, picking you up and twirling you around as if you were a little kid. The two of you made an endearing picture, and Namjoon saw Taehyung point his phone at you out of the corner of his eye. Hopefully he'd send it to the group chat.

Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end, and when you pulled away from your brother you had a serious look on your face. You pressed him down to the couch and sat next to him, and everyone else in the room tensed, knowing what was coming.

"Sooo remember when I promised you this vagina was off-limits to anyone I live with?"

Jackson froze and looked at your sheepish expression, while Taehyung and Jimin facepalmed from the loveseat. Yoongi gave a distinct snort. Namjoon began to pray.

"... Yes…" your brother said slowly and suspiciously. His eyes narrowed and he cast his gaze around the room of suddenly very frightened young men.

"I… uh… lied?"

Namjoon put his head in his hands. This was how you were telling your brother? They were so fucked.

"What." Jackson's face was almost as devoid of emotion as his tone. Despite the way the iciness in his eyes had cooled the room several degrees, several of the boys found themselves beginning to sweat.

"It was all consensual with everyone!" you protested, making everything even worse.

"Everyone?" your brother asked in the same eerily blank tone. His body was the strangest combination of rigid and relaxed, and you winced as you tried to think of something else to say.

"N-no!" squeaked Jin. "We haven't had sex yet!"

"YET?"

It seemed the ice had finally shattered, because Jackson had leapt to his feet with a roar. Namjoon was very, very glad they had decided to move away from the knives in the kitchen. He couldn't even be that upset with you - despite his warnings, you had never seen your brother legitimately angry. You looked just as shocked as he was scared. Before anyone could do anything to make the situation any more of a disaster, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" chirped Hobi, hopping to his feet.

"You. Stay." Jackson's voice was soft but dangerous, and all it took was one look for the dancer to blanch and slowly settle back down. He grabbed a pillow and held it to his chest, as if that might protect him from your brother's wrath.

"Uh… I'll get it…" you said uncertainly, as it became clear your brother had no intention of letting any of the boys escape his clutches. The doorbell rang again, and with a final agonized glance at Namjoon, you scurried to get it, leaving your boys to their doom.

~~~~~

"Oh thank god," you whispered when you opened the door to see your best friend. She looked objectively fantastic - had she even gotten a blow out? - and decidedly unaware of the carnage that could be taking place at any moment. Until unintelligible screaming began to sound from behind you.

"So he's taking it very well," your friend quipped with an amused twinkle in her eyes. She stepped inside and removed her shoes while you impatiently shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "Don't worry girl, I got this."

When you took in the sight of the living room, you weren't sure if you could believe your friend's words. Hobi was screeching, Yoongi was rolling on the floor laughing, and your brother's hands were around Namjoon's throat, pinning him against the wall.

"You said you'd look out for her," Jackson hissed, ignoring the way Jimin and Taehyung were dangling off his arms in an attempt to pull him off their friend. Jin and Jungkook looked like they were trying to help without actually hurting anyone, but the two monkeys were in the way. How the fuck was Mina supposed to salvage this?

"Ohhh, me next daddy!"

Oh. That was how. Everyone's head swiveled to the new voice, and you watched your brother's brain begin to steam as he processed who it was and what she had said. In his distraction, his grip loosened and all of the boys scrambled a somewhat safe distance away.

"M-Mina?" he stammered, eyes wide. She grinned and waved, holding her arms open.

"Welcome home! Do I get a hug? Or can I get the Namjoon option?"

Jackson choked at the implication, turning bright red, and you marveled at the complete tone shift in the room. Had your brother been this much of a simp before? He shuffled over like a zombie, still looking dazed, and when he hugged her she sent you a wink over his shoulder. God you loved her. While they were occupied, you hurried over to Namjoon.

"You okay?" you whispered as he rubbed his neck, wincing. You wouldn't be surprised if there would be bruising later, which was a testament to your brother's quiet fury. You stroked Namjoon's hair in concern, and he kissed your nose and smiled, soothing you with those lovely dimples. Reassured, you let irritation at your brother's overprotectiveness take over. Because really, what was it with muscle-bound idiots and physical reactions to things?

"Okay bro, now that your temper tantrum is over can we please talk about this like adults?" you asked snippily, regaining Jackson's attention. His gaze shot back to where you were standing - much too close to Namjoon, his expression said - but before he could respond, Mina was gently herding him to sit back down on the couch.

"Fine," your brother grumbled, miraculously appeased by a simple pat on the shoulder. It was a testament to how much Mina had apparently been holding back before you had given your insistent blessing, because he seemed wrapped around her finger already.

You moved to sit on his other side to be a buffer for your boys, but to your surprise Jungkook sat down next to him before you could. Instead, you settled between Jimin and Taehyung, who gladly made room for you.

"Jackson-hyung," the maknae said seriously, looking straight at him. "I love [y/n] and if I have to spend every day proving to you that I want to make her happy, I will. And if the rest don't I'll murder them myself."

There was silence as everyone gaped at the youngest - and apparently bravest - person in the room. You felt your cheeks flush at Jungkook's unabashed avowal, and you couldn't keep your face from breaking into a smile despite the unnecessary threat at the end. Though judging by the approving nod from both Jackson and Mina, perhaps it actually helped.

"Yeah," Namjoon added, clearing his throat. "She's very important to all of us. I swear, I didn't mean for any of this to happen, she's just so amazing that we all just kind of fell for her."

Those were also apparently the right words to say, as your brother relaxed further. You felt your body erupt in flames as the other boys began to chime in. It was sweet and you loved them for it, but hearing everyone say such nice things about you was incredibly awkward and made you wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As if sensing your discomfort, Jimin began rubbing your back in soothing circles, and you smiled gratefully at him. The action wasn't unnoticed by Jackson, whose furrowed brow relaxed by a hair. At a lull in the conversation, you jumped back in.

"They've been really good to me, Jackson," you told your brother, looking him dead in the eye so he could see your sincerity. "I know it's a weird situation, but that's why I - we - need your support. I need my big bro in my corner."

Your last sentence came out as more of a plea than a statement, and you could see your brother's expression begin to thaw. And it was true - having to deal with what people might say about you was bad enough. But if you didn't have your brother on your side, you didn't know if you could really handle what might come. Mina, bless her, patted him on the arm.

"Think of it this way," she said amiably. "If someone fucks with [y/n], we have seven extra people to help hide the body."

You were the only person to laugh, and you realized that everyone else in the room was nodding seriously, as if that had been a valid argument.

"Definitely," agreed Jungkook without a hint of humor, confirming that everyone you loved was a little insane. You sighed in a mixture of exasperation and affection.

"But - all of you? Really?" asked Jackson, clearly on his way to being mollified but not completely won over.

"Really," replied Namjoon with a sigh as everyone else made noises of agreement. Your brother crossed his arms, brow still slightly furrowed as he glared at your roommates.

"And you're all serious about this."

"I can vouch for them and say that they are all at least as whipped for [y/n] as she is for them," Mina volunteered. Then she placed her lips near Jackson's ear in a loud whisper that was clearly still meant to be heard by everyone in the room.

"Plus, between the two of us I'm sure we could deal with any fuck ups accordingly."

Your brother looked at your best friend as if she had just said the sexiest thing he had ever heard and you tried not to throw up at the lovestruck expression on his face. She smiled back at him and you heard Hobi give a small "wow" of admiration at how easily she tamed the savage Jackson. Though some of the others were also eyeing your friend as if she might suddenly grow fangs.

"Jackson-hyung," said Taehyung from beside you. "We know it's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows, but we're all prepared to put in the work to do right by her and ourselves."

You smiled at him, and slipped your hand into his to squeeze his fingers in reassurance. What you really wanted was to kiss his handsome face forever, but you decided to wait until you were sure your brother wouldn't murder anyone.

"Can we discuss this more over food?" you added, knowing that full stomachs would make everyone a little more amenable. It also appeared to be safe to let your brother near pointy objects again. "I'm starving."

~~~~~

Everyone filtered into the kitchen while you and Jin put the finishing touches on everything you cooked - a weird mixture of your brother's favorites, including but not limited to hamburgers AND spaghetti carbonara. The eldest gave you a sunny smile in response to your pointed glare, ignored the elbow you casually threw in his direction, and even managed to grab the free seat on your side despite the way you turned your face to ignore him.

"This all looks great, you guys," said your brother enthusiastically from your other side, demeanor further thawed by the aromas wafting from the dishes on the counter.

"I helped!" chirped Namjoon excitedly from the other side of the table. That made you inadvertently make eye-contact with Jin, and in your silent exchange you both agreed to say nothing. He looked so proud that neither of you had the heart to tell him that the single potato he'd helped to peel hadn't made it into any of the final dishes.

Then you remembered you were annoyed with Jin and huffed and turned away again to speak to your brother. Who wasn't even paying attention to you, but instead filling Mina's glass with wine. Because of course.

You scowled and took a sip of your own wine, only to begin choking on it when a warm hand found its way onto your knee.

"You okay?" asked Jin in mock-concern as everyone looked at you. You pasted a smile on your face, though what you really wanted to do was strangle him in an unsexy fashion.

"Fine," you said breezily, deciding you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted, you weren't going to crack.

Except he didn't. Do. Anything.

It was incredible, honestly, how much of a little shit Jin could be without really doing anything. Every single time you almost forgot about his hand on your bare skin, he would give your leg the lightest brush of his thumb, sending tingles up your thighs and between your legs. The couple times you had tried to shift further away to escape his torture, his grip had become iron, fingers digging into your flesh and keeping you rooted in place. You wanted to scream.

By the time everyone had finished eating, you had a permanent flush on your cheeks, which your brother luckily attributed to the wine. Jin was acting completely normal, stuffing his face as per usual and cracking increasingly stupid jokes that you valiantly fought to not find endearing. He was not cute, he was dumb and annoying and a fucking tease is what he was.

"Anyone want dessert?" you asked, sensing an excuse to get up. "I made chocolate cake."

"I'll get it!" volunteered Jungkook, smiling brightly at you. At another time this would have been sweet, but internally you wilted as Jin's grip on your knee went rigid again.

"You've worked hard all day," the eldest said mildly, his evil thumb beginning to make soft circles again. You tensed, fighting the urge to squirm under his touch, and his tone took on a smug undertone. "Let us take care of it."

You're not taking care of anything, you internally shrieked, smiling at Jin while shooting daggers at him through your eyes. The smirk he gave back told you he knew exactly what he was doing. You wished it wasn't turning you on so much. It was honestly pathetic how hot and bothered you felt when he hadn't even done anything.

The only real bright spot was that Mina was working overtime at cajoling your brother, so much so that he barely had any other criticisms or questions to make towards you or your roommates. If it hadn't been part of the plan you would have been miffed that after an entire semester of being gone, Jackson was barely paying attention to you.

"I want to be her when I grow up," you heard Jungkook whisper to Taehyung as your best friend "accidentally" dropped some cake on her chest and nonchalantly wiped off the frosting with a finger she licked clean. She pretended not to notice your brother's eyes riveted to every single action, and you felt a mixture of nausea and amusement at the scene. Mina was laying it on thick and yet he was eating it up completely.

"I mean if you want [y/n] to eat food off you-" Jimin's loud whisper was cut off by a yelp as Namjoon elbowed him in the ribs with a frantic look at Jackson, who honestly looked like he might be drooling at this point. You were torn between laughing at Namjoon's panicked expression, sighing at Jimin's snickers, and glaring at Jin, who was still rubbing your knee as he wolfed down cake with his other hand.

It really wasn't fair how cute he looked. Especially with a smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to be more present in everyone else's conversation, you really did, but Jin had successfully consumed all of your thoughts. With a sigh of annoyance, you wiped his nose with your thumb, and he shot that unethically handsome smile at you.

"Thanks, princess," he murmured, brushing your cheek with his free hand and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You flushed at the pet name, then stole a peek at your brother, who was now the one eating cake while Mina stared hungrily at him instead. God they were disgusting.

"Hmph," was all you said in response, turning away and definitely not pouting no matter what Jin's grinning face seemed to believe.

"Something wrong, love?"

Nope, his hot breath on your ear definitely did not affect you, just like him calling you love didn't. You were immune. Bulletproof.

"You okay, babe? You're looking a little constipated."

And that was your platonic soulmate, looking at you with a shit-eating grin at your annoyed expression. You had a feeling she already knew what was going on. Though if anything were to look, it would have been innocuous, because literally fucking all Jin was doing was resting his hand on his knee. You despised him.

"More cake, anyone?" you asked instead, beginning to shift and feeling Jin's hand hold your leg in place again. While everyone went in for seconds, you felt Jin's lips brush the shell of your ear again, and you stiffened.

"Let's go somewhere next weekend," he whispered sweetly, shooting you a heated look that you were very glad your brother didn't see. "I'll take care of you then."

Wow, how dare he think you would just up and cancel any of your existing plans just for him and whatever stupid thing he had planned. Just because he had managed to rile you up a tiny bit.

"Please? I haven't been able to spend much time with you since my parents' and I miss you," he added, and you hated the inexcusable sincerity shining from his eyes. You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

"Okay." God fucking dammit.

As if that wasn't bad enough, his face lit up and he pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your temple. You tried vainly to hold onto your irritation, but it slipped through your fingers much the way he was now running his own through your hair. Utterly defeated, you huffed and rested your forehead on his shoulder. God, you could barely manage yourself around Jin. How exactly were you going to navigate six others who could twist your heart into knots just as easily as he did?

As if to reward you, he finally moved his hand and instead wrapped his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. A sigh escaped your lips as you smelled his cologne, and the smile he gave you was full of affection.

"That's my girl," he murmured fondly, melting you to goo despite your best efforts. You closed your eyes for a moment, ignoring the "not fair" that sounded like it came from a pouting Jimin beneath the clinks of dishes as Taehyung and Jungkook began to clean up the table. Opening them again, you shot the youngest boys a grateful smile, then made eye contact with your brother.

"What are your thoughts?" you asked softly, hoping he'd had enough time to both cool down and think seriously about the situation. Jin's hand squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, and you marveled at how the same hand that had brought you so much torment earlier was now helping to sooth you.

Jackson was silent for a moment as he observed the way you had snuggled into Jin's side, and the way the older boy was holding you protectively. As if to protect you from something he might say. Then he looked at the other boys, from Namjoon, one of his closest friends, to the others he didn't know quite as well but definitely liked.

"You guys will take care of her?"

"She doesn't really need to be taken care of," said Yoongi bluntly, the first to speak up for a while. "But we will anyway."

That was a good answer. Despite how overprotective he knew he could be, he was well aware of the fact that you were strong, intelligent, and capable. But you were also his baby sister, and he wanted to know there were people looking out for you when he couldn't be around. Jackson supposed that if there was any group of people that could navigate this unorthodox situation successfully, it would be this group of friends who had already been its own family before you had become a part of it.

"Oh my god," you complained with a roll of your eyes. "Why does this feel like I'm being bartered away for goats right now?"

"Aw babe, you're worth more than that," cooed Mina. "Like at least a few cows."

"Fight me," you retorted, sinking further into Jin's side as he struggled not to laugh. The mood began to lighten again and Jackson couldn't help but smile.

"They'll take care of her, and if they don't, we'll take care of them," your best friend told him with an innocently evil grin that set his insides fluttering. He flushed, enjoying the implications of them being a team, and out of the corner of his eye he saw you pretending to throw up. Speaking of.

"Just please never ever let me find out anything about your sex lives. I'm begging you."

~~~~~

It was funny to compare how worried everyone had been earlier today, to how utterly serene the living room was now. Mina and Jackson were cuddling together on the loveseat, seemingly wrapped up in their own world, and you were a little relieved they hadn't noticed when Jungkook pulled you into his lap on the couch, citing "boyfriend privileges" with a smug grin at the others.

Namjoon sat on the other side of you, resting his large hand comfortably on your knee, fortunately actually innocently. Hobi had used his agility to snipe the other seat by you, and you smiled at him as you slipped your hand into his. Jin took the remaining spot next to Hobi, looking content by his earlier shenanigans and unperturbed by being further away from you. Jerk.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi grumbled a little at having to sit on the floor, but settled at your feet. Yoongi pulled the age card to be the one to sit in front of you, much to the chagrin of the younger boys, who decided to each claim one of your legs.

"Anyone have a movie preference?" you asked softly as you held the remote, not wanting to break whatever spell was causing this rare peaceful moment with everyone. You felt Jungkook stir beneath you and you hastened to add. "Other than horror."

Hobi squeezed your fingers in gratitude and you grinned back at him. The look he gave you said that he wouldn't mind another sleepover whether you watched a scary movie or not, and you bumped his shoulder with yours.

"Oh, so no Zootopia?" called Jackson, making Mina snort and laugh. Your face burned as the others looked at you in confusion and you hastily asked Joon for his option. There was no need for the boys to know everything about you, like how you had been very affected by the mild jump scare in the children's movie. It was definitely not information they needed to know.

Eventually you all decided on a generic action-comedy thriller - not super interesting, but also palatable to everyone - and settled in to watch the movie. You threaded your free hand through Yoongi's silky hair, and a pleased rumble came out of his throat when you gave his scalp a light scratch. He really sounded like a cat purring.

You glanced at the loveseat. Jackson's eyes were glued to the screen already, but Mina was looking back at you and giving you that soft smile she only reserved for special people and special occasions. You could see the contentedness you were feeling reflected in her eyes and smiled back. All of your people were happy, safe, and here, and that was everything you could ask for.

A loud explosion from the movie made you squeak and jump, and you heard Jungkook snicker from behind you before he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist. Joon smiled at you and gave your knee a reassuring squeeze that was echoed by Hobi's on your hand. A hand ruffled your hair, and you looked to see that Jin had stretched his arm past Hobi to pat your head gently.

Yoongi grumbled and set your hand back on his head, while Taehyung hugged your leg as he leaned against the couch. Jimin made a small noise of complaint before resting his head back on your knee and reminding you of the night he had kept you company at the library so long ago.

You felt utterly safe, warm and loved surrounded by your boys and your heart swelled with fondness. There was no telling what the future might bring or how you all might change, but you still had a feeling that the best moments were yet to come.

~~~~~

Tags: @singukieee @persphonesorchid @xmochiloverx @taestefully-in-luv @meavie @silscintilla @forpunishers @jnghs @avadakadabra93 @thesleepingmoonfox @readers-posts @teeheelittlebitch

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[demonsandco]

Smut Alphabet - Lucifer

All the letters for Luci have been answered now, so here's a post compiling them all together!

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

When he’s the one in charge, Luci acts like the king of aftercare. As much as he loves seeing his partner fall apart, he always makes sure to put them back together in the end. His go to thing is running a hot bath for his partner, letting him clean them up while also giving him a reason to hold them close and relax for once. After the bath, he’s pretty much at their beck and call, willing to run out and get them anything they need until they're ready to go to bed. It’s one of the only times when Luci won’t put up a fight about going to bed at a decent hour, instead opting to snuggle under the covers and pulling his partner close to his chest.

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

For a long while, Lucifer’s favorite parts of him were his wings, but now they carry too many memories for him to view them with the same light. Now, his favorite body part would be his hands. He has long fingers and a firm grip, perfect for grabbing his partner’s wrists with one hand and pinning them down.

When it comes to his partner, Lucifer’s favorite body part of theirs is their neck. It’s such a vulnerable part of their body and it’s his favorite place to leave marks. It’s a trust thing for him, as well as something that makes him feel powerful. Knowing that he could kill them in a second with his sharp teeth pressed to their throat, yet they trust him not to hurt them excites him to no end.

(cont under the cut)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Lucifer cums a pretty average amount, but he can do so quite a few times in a row. His favorite place to cum is in his S/O’s mouth or on their face. Marking them in such a way feeds into his pride, and he can’t help but admire how wonderful they look covered on his seed. He would never force them to swallow it when he does this, but if they choose to, he is left feeling awed and even hornier than before.

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

Lucifer is more than prepared to take this secret to his grave, but he has, on more than one occasion, fantasised about having a pact master use their pact with him during sex, with consent of course. It’s the idea of trusting his partner to the point where he puts his life in their hands and gives them complete control that gets to him. He’d be able to just lay back and stop thinking for once, while they use him however they see fit, without him needing to make a single decision. If his actual S/O ever suggests something like that, he’d be overjoyed internally, but he plays it off as simply playing along with their idea. He refuses to let anyone know how much he enjoys the thought because of how embarrassing he finds it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucifer has quite a bit of experience, but only when it comes to sex involving BDSM dynamics. He doesn’t mind hooking up with someone if he has the option to have complete control for the night. The type of sex he’s used to is very much lacking in emotional connection. He’s left feeling a bit unsure of himself when it comes to more vanilla sex, being the submissive one, or just sex that involves emotions. He knows what he likes and he’s very skilled in the physical aspect, it just takes him a bit of time to get into the flow of things with a partner that he actually cares about. Especially when emotions are involved. He desperately wants his partner to know how much they mean to him, but he’s not quite sure how to translate his emotions into actions from the very start.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Lucifer’s favorite position is surprisingly vanilla in nature. Call him old fashioned or cliché, but he’s very fond of the missionary position. It doesn’t matter to him who’s on the top and who’s on the bottom, he’s fine with filling either role. He enjoys the closeness that it offers, pressing his chest against his partner’s and feeling each time they take a breath. Plus it offers so much versatility! He’s in the perfect place to kiss his partner as much as he wants, but he can also bury his face in their neck, leaving kisses and love bites, while also muffling his moans.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Lucifer very much prefers to take things seriously. He likes keeping the mood sensual and heated, and goofiness gets in the way of that. Some playfulness or teasing is perfectly fine, and even encouraged by him, but outright humor or jokes is something he’d rather avoid. If his partner insists on being humorous, he’d see it as them being bratty, and won’t hesitate to gag or punish them if they don’t listen to his warnings. It makes for a very easy way to rile him up, if that’s what they’re looking to do. His only focus in the moment is their pleasure (or pain) and his behavior reflects that.

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

As with anything to do with his appearance, Lucifer takes meticulous care of his body hair. He constantly keeps it trimmed and short, even if he doesn’t have a partner who would be seeing it at the time. He’s prideful of how he looks and puts a lot of time into looking well put together in all aspects, even if no one will see it. He has a nice amount of body hair in general, though, his pubes leading up into a thin happy trail and a light dusting of hair over his chest. It’s all black in colour, just like the base of his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Surprisingly, Lucifer is very intimate in the moment. He considers sex itself to be an intimate and romantic activity. He needs to trust his partner quite a bit to feel comfortable letting them see him in such a potentially vulnerable position and that really shows. Even if he’s acting rough and dominating, he still can’t help but let a bit of softness and love seep into his words and actions. It’s one of the only times where he can voice his emotions easily, without his pride getting in the way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Despite having a very high libido, Lucifer rarely takes the time to take care of his needs. He usually puts it off in favor of working, until he suddenly realises just how long it's been, and how needy he feels. It leaves him feeling so pent up and tense, not to mention unbearably sensitive, but getting himself off just doesn’t leave him feeling satisfied enough to be worth the time. He would much rather get off with a partner than on his own, and he’s willing to stay all worked up until then.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This comes as a surprise to no one, but Lucifer loves bondage. Having his partner tied, watching them wiggle helplessly, unable to escape his touch, never fails to excite him and make his heart race. However, not only does Lucifer enjoy tying up his partner, he also loves to be the one getting tied up. The feel of tight ropes biting into his skin as he squirms under their gaze sends blood rushing straight to his dick. Especially when he thinks about how much trust he’s putting in them. He’s leaving himself open and helpless, yet he knows that they’ll never do anything he genuinely dislikes, just as he would never do that to them

On a similar note, Lucifer is also very fond of temperature play, especially when combined with bondage or even sensory deprivation. He likes the subtle blend of pain and pleasure that comes with it, alongside the anticipation of not knowing which will come next. He could spend hours teasing his partner like this, watching their reactions and listening to their cries. Of course, he’ll also let them return the favor, tying him up and teasing his senses with ice cubes and hot wax. He’ll hold in his reactions for as long as possible, and it’s hard to break him, but if they know where to target, they’ll have him begging soon enough. The span of his back, as well as his thighs are extra sensitive and dripping wax across his spine while sliding some ice over his inner thighs will leave him desperate and begging in no time.

Unsurprisingly, the Avatar of Pride has a huge praise kink. Lucifer craves praise from his partner, enjoying the feeling of pride coursing through his body when his partner tells him how good he feels and how well behaved he is. He strives to please them as much as he can, and the validation that he’s a good boy sends pleasure coursing through him. Of course, Lucifer also gets pleasure out of giving his partner praise, too, when he’s the one in charge. He wants them to know how proud he is of them when they’re being good.

On the opposite hand, Lucifer gets a weird amount of pleasure out of being humiliated. He isn’t fond of humiliating his S/O, being humiliated? Having a mere human exert that much power over him? It excites him to no end and he can’t explain why. If they treat him like he’s a lesser being, spit in his mouth, step on his cock, anything like that, Lucifer finds himself cumming so embarrassingly quick. He has to be in a specific headspace to enjoy it, but when he is, having his pride crushed in such a way feels like such a thrill.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Lucifer is a very private man and refuses to risk being caught in the act. The riskiest he’ll get is his office, but more often than not, it’s going to take place in his room. He prefers to take his time with his partner anyway, and that's much easier to accomplish on a comfortable bed, rather than somewhere else. He has more than enough self control to avoid doing anything too sensual outside of his room, where he feels safe.

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

He’ll never admit it, but seeing his s/o acting bold or taking charge never fails to excite him. It makes his mind wander and Lucifer can’t help but imagine them acting that way towards him, disregarding his rank and power and taking control of him. He’s almost ashamed of having such fantasies, but that just serves to excite him further.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Exhibitionism of any level is a big no for Lucifer. He has a hard enough time showing regular affection in public, and anything even remotely sexual in nature crosses his limits. He considers what he shares with his partner to be very personal and vulnerable and he refuses to have anyone else see him in such a state. He’s also not fond of anyone having a chance to see his partner in a disheveled state. In his mind, their body and reactions are for his eyes only. No one else even comes close to deserving to see them like that.

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

Lucifer very much prefers giving oral over receiving, and he’s damn good at it, too. He loves the amount of power it gives him, allowing him to control exactly how much pleasure he’s giving his partner. He knows exactly how to use his mouth to get specific responses from them. He’s also a quick learner and adapts to his partner’s preferences very fast.

While Lucifer doesn’t hate being on the receiving end, it takes some time for him to be open to the idea. Letting his partner have so much control over his pleasure leaves him feeling vulnerable and he has a harder time controlling his reactions. It takes every ounce of control he has not to grab the back of their head and set the pace himself, but he finds that it’s more worth it in the end to give them complete control.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Lucifer’s pace heavily depends on the mood of the night. If both he and his partner are stressed and need some relief, he’s more than happy to go hard and rough. He does enjoy taking his time, though, and if his schedule allows it, he’d much rather keep things sensual and slow. Intimacy is a very important part of sex for him, and a fast pace feels like it brings things to an end too quickly for him to fully enjoy it all the time, but he still likes the roughness of it. Regardless of who’s in control of the pace, he enjoys it best when there’s a healthy balance, starting out hard and fast, before gradually slowing down and letting some romance seep in, only to speed up once again as he and his partner get close to finishing.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Lucifer is a very busy demon, meaning that sometimes all he has time for is a quickie, but that doesn’t mean he likes them. When he’s with his partner, he wants to be able to take his time with them, keep a slow and sensual pace, but he often can’t find the time for it. He always thinks a quickie would be better than nothing, but they often just leave him feeling even more pent up and desperate.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Lucifer isn’t the most open person when it comes to experimentation. Mostly because he’s already had experience with many kinks throughout his long life, and he feels that he’s got a very good idea of what he’s into. There are very few things his partner could suggest that he either isn’t completely against or that he hasn’t already tried. If they do manage to find something that he’s unsure of yet, he’s more than happy to try it out for them, as long as it’s in a controlled environment. His partner has a much higher chance of getting him to experience something new if he’s the submissive one for the night. Chances are he’ll end up enjoying it, even if he was a bit unsure at first. He thrives off of pleasing his s/o and they’ll quickly find that he has very few limits.

Lucifer is very fond of everything being safe and controlled, regardless of who is in charge for the night. He outright refuses to do anything he’d consider obscene anywhere that someone else could walk into. He wants anything that happens to stay between him and his partner, and his not a fan of risking that in any way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lucifer has quite a lot of stamina, when he's not exhausted and overworked, at least. He's not exaggerating when he says he'll keep his partner busy all night long. He can take a few more rounds than the average human, but they last for ages. He's skilled at holding off his own orgasms, capable of making his partner cum on his cock a couple times at least, before finally letting go himself. He uses this to his advantage often, wanting to make sure he completely satisfies them before reaching his own peak.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Lucifer has a rather impressive collection of toys, or perhaps tools would be more accurate. He doesn't own anything like dildos or vibrators, but he has everything from different styles of restraints, to paddles, to whips. He has no qualms using some of the… less extreme tools in his collection on his partner, and he's not opposed to adding some more commonly seen sex toys to the mix, as well. If they show interest, he's more than happy to switch roles and lend them his tools, but he greatly prefers the feel of his partner's body, rather than a plastic toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Lucifer is a huge fan of teasing his partner, but he’s very easily swayed by begging. He could genuinely spend hours teasing them and finding new ways to make them react, but as soon as they beg him for more, he loses all semblance of patience and control. Hearing his partner beg feeds straight into his pride, and he’s always weak when it comes to their wants and needs.

Lucifer himself is rather fun to tease as well. It may not be his favorite thing, but he enjoys it from time to time. It takes a lot of practice and patience to actually break him, though, but it’s more than worth it in the end. What’s better than seeing the Avatar of Pride crying and groveling, pleading for his partner to let him cum?

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lucifer purposefully keeps himself quiet, doing his best to avoid making any sort of embarrassing noises. It works pretty well for him at first, the most that’s coming out of his mouth being soft gasps or groans from behind his clenched teeth, but the closer he gets, the less controlled his voice becomes, letting sweet, delicate moans slip out. He’s still not the type of person to be extra loud or talkative, but it’s not uncommon to hear soft words of praise in between the whiny noises he can’t seem to silence anymore.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite the sadistic and domineering persona he puts on, most of the time, Lucifer actually prefers to be the submissive one. He spends every waking moment of his life feeling like he needs to be in control and trying to take care of everything, that what he really craves is to just lay back and have someone else take the reins. It takes a huge amount of trust for Lucifer to admit this, but once he does, he’s willing to let his partner do whatever they want to him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lucifer's dick is an impressive sight, but isn't too intimidating. He has a lot of length, more than the average human, and just enough girth to provide a stretch, without requiring extensive prepping. His skin flushes easily, making his a cock a pretty pink colour when he's hard. The thing that stands out the most, though, is that he has piercings down there. There's three to be exact, all lined up on the underside of his cock, forming a Jacob's ladder. They match the nipple piercings that he also keeps hidden under his clothes.

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

Lucifer’s sex drive is pretty high compared to the average human, but it really isn’t very high for a demon. He’s always so pent up, however, that you’d never be able to tell that. He’s always busy, and when he does have time to spend with his S/O, he wants to do something romantic with them first, constantly pushing aside his need in favor of something else. By the time he’s finally alone and in the mood with them, he's so desperate and sensitive that he comes across as constantly horny, when he’s actually just denying himself until he can’t handle it anymore.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Lucifer has a horrible sleep schedule and struggles to get some rest even when he’s tired. The chances of him falling asleep before his partner are extremely low, even if they wore him out. Even if he doesn’t have any work he feels pressured to finish, chances are that once he finishes taking care of his partner, he’s still going to stay up. He’ll stay in bed if they ask him to, but he’ll find something to read or put on some soft music to keep him busy for a few hours, until he finally feels like he can rest.

[shorkbrian]

So happy your requests are open and I don't mind the wait at all!

I just really want to see a sweet quirkless omega going into heat and sending her alpha Overhaul (Kai Chisaki) into a hard rut and he just pins her to a wall and fucks the life out of her before taking her to the bedroom to knot her.

but you do know that it would 100% be like "hate sex" on Chisaki's part (even though he kinda do like it lol)

(Kinda overhaul x reader x chrono btw but only for a little bit)

Just. Overhaul being able to tolerate you being kept at his compound because one, you're his mate, whether he likes it or not.

Two, you're quirkless.

And three? You don't bother him, you stay out of the way and you have passable hygiene when compared to Chisaki's standards.

But that has to be thrown out the window the second Chrono hauls you into Chisaki's office, the man in charge of watching you when Chisaki isn't around flustered and pink around his ears.

"B-boss, your omega, she's-"

"What the fuck is that smell." Chisaki growls, eyes immediately snapping to your trembling form. Taking in the way you're gasping, sweaty, barely able to stand even with Chrono's hand tight around your bicep and holding you up.

For some reason, the sight of Chrono touching you makes Chisaki itch. Odd, that usually wouldn't bother him.

The smell is cloying; too intense and too sweet, it makes his throat burn and his skin crawl.

"I think she's in-"

"Please, it hurts." You choke out, cutting off Chrono. "Need... I need-"

Chisaki recoiled as the scent got stronger, clouding his senses, making him feel... Chisaki didn't even know. Excited? Tingly?

Uncomfortable - he decided.

"Get her out. Give her a bath too, she smells disgusting." He commanded, but Chrono stepped forward instead of back out the door.

"Boss, she's in heat."

Heat?

Oh.

Overhaul cringed.

Logically, he knew it was going to happen eventually. But on the other hand, he had hoped his omega would be different. you was already quirkless, already pure... surely it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that you wouldn't be affected by the mindless heat-addling that Omega's all seemed to undergo?

His irritation was rising.

"So?"

Chrono looked at his boss with questioning eyes, unsure what to do with the omega becoming increasingly more distressed at his side.

"You'll get her over it." Chisaki decides, ignoring the bitter taste that floods his mouth as he utters those words. His eyes slide over you again, lip curling into a disgusted sneer.

"Messy thing."

Chrono is frozen in disbelief. But this isn't a test of his loyalty, Chisaki truly doesn't want to deal with the germs and the mess and the cleanup associated with omega's during their heats. Slick everywhere, pheromones staining the room, needy hands touching everywhere-

"Sit her down on the couch." He instructs his second-in-command, rising from his office chair and stepping around his desk so he can close the door. "I want to make sure you don't damage her."

That's the only reason. Only reason he wants to be present and watching while Chrono fucks you through your heat.

"You're serious then?" The white-haired man asks, removing the plague mask he wears while inside the compound, thus beginning the process of disrobing.

Chisaki waved his hand idly, resuming his position in his office chair with a tired sigh. "It'd be such a chore for me to do it myself. Aren't you an alpha yourself Chrono? You should be jumping at the chance to bed a nice quirkless omega."

Chrono shrugs off his white coat, looking up from where you're panting on the couch while he stands in front of you, eyes finding his boss. "I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries with your property."

The brunette smiles, not that anyone can see, but it's clear he's pleased by the crinkle near his eyes, the relaxed way he slumps in his chair. "And that's why you're my favorite Chrono."

You're wearing what you usually wear - long pants, a cozy sweater. Overhaul hasn't heard you complain about the chill in the compound, but it's clear to see it affects you by the way you dress and the way your nose darkens from the cold.

You don't fight the half-naked Chrono as he helps you out of your sweater, unbothered by the temperature of the room and looking entirely too hot and sweaty.

Chisaki supposes it's good that you aren't fighting. You had at first, when he first brought you here, crying and pleading for him to let you go and leave you alone. That pathetic show was quickly shut down with a simple demonstration of Overhaul's quirk, and what he'd do to you if you didn't comply.

Now you're seemingly accepting of the situation, casting nervous glances towards Chisaki, your attention constantly getting stolen by the pale man stripping in front of you.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Chrono has his cock in you.

And you look completely blissed out, mouth open and letting out choked little gasps on each thrust, one hand desperately trying to hold onto Chrono's shoulder, his arm, his chest - anything you can reach.

The other hand is on your stomach, and Chisaki doesn't understand why until he focuses on it, sees the distention whenever Chrono swings his hips into you.

Chisaki feels himself throb.

The sounds you're making sound like music. Awful music, all discordant and rushed and pornographic, stuttered breaths and pitiful cries, high-pitched and girlish moans in between Chrono's quiet huffs.

The sweet pheromones in the air become sweeter, thicker, and Chisaki can see the direct correlation between the smell and how much slick is dripping out of you, drenching Chrono's pretty cock, his stomach, even splattering his thighs on each thrust as his cock squelches deeper.

It's disgusting.

Digusting but curiously enamoring. Chrono's got you sitting on the couch, pushed up against the back while he fucks you. It's a tall piece of furniture, and Chrono merely hikes his leg up onto the cushions to gain a better angle to fuck you with. Your slick is everywhere; Chisaki knows that couch won't be salvageable after this. Somehow, he doesn't mind.

What he does mind, however, is the way Chrono is speeding up, rhythm stuttering and practically falling apart. He's going to knot you. Chisaki had given him full permission to - that's what taking care of an omega during their heat means, after all. But jealousy is boiling inside him, blood painfully engorging his cock, he feels tingly all over, very unlike himself.

He wants to touch you.

But you're a disgusting mess, smelling sweet and fertile and sweating and dripping everywhere. Chisaki can't believe he's feeling... attracted to you right now.

"O-ohh feels good, r-right there! Yes, thank you,t-than-" You mumble out, drunk on cock as you shudder through an orgasm, cream gushing out of your cunt and further dirtying Chisaki's office.

Chisaki sees red.

He's furious - not only at you, but at Chrono for touching you, and for himself for explicitly allowing it to happen. Chrono's about to knot you, claim you, and Chisaki is out of his chair before he knows what's happening.

"That's enough." And his gloved hands are ripping Chrono away from you, sending the other man reeling as his subordinate struggles to control his alpha instincts and stop himself from fighting his boss, tearing Chisaki to shreds for interrupting his mating.

Chisaki doesn't care, he's too focused on you.

"You're so pathetic." The man hisses at you, crowding into your space. When had he taken off his mask? He wanted to smell more of you.

His gloves are gone too, ripped away in a moment so he can feel your wet skin against his hands, feel the sweat beading your brow before those same fingers snap to undo his pants.

"I hate you, I hate you." He seethes, golden eyes staring at you so intently that you start to cry, overwhelmed with the situation, still craving a knot, craving intimacy and tenderness.

You've reduced him down to barely better than an animal, tearing at his clothes so he can sink into you, closing his eyes at the way you're wet and warm inside, perfect and velvety.

Chisaki doesn't know what's come over him. Normally he'd be disgusted, absolutely incensed at having such filth be in direct contact with his skin. But right now... all he feels is pleasure ripping through his veins, clouding his head, his mind, flushing rational thought down the toilet.

"Stupid, hate you-" his words rattle out on each rapid thrust, breath uneven and labored as his muscles stretch and work to fuck you harder and faster. He's building up to his peak.

One of his hands is fisted in your hair, close to your scalp and keeping you still, the other hand clamped firmly against your hip and making sure you don't wiggle away. Alpha instincts taking over as his brain convinces him to mate, breed, cum.

"You're so fucking dirty." He gasps, voice heated and gravelly as he struggles to fight through the heat taking over his body.

He's going into a rut.

Chisaki isn't supposed to do that. He takes supplements and suppressants to ensure he doesn't have too. Ruts are messy, nasty things to endure, and Chisaki would rather lick the floor of a dirty subway than experience one.

Yet here he is.

"You disgusting, wretched thing-" And you're crying, fat tears mixing with sweat and rolling down your chin. Chisaki feels disgusting himself, wanting to lick the liquid away.

He hasn't felt this good in his entire life, this burning fever pitch rising and rising and cresting, blazing along his nerves.

He can barely thrust his hips anymore, and only then does Chisaki realizes that he's popped his knot, jammed it in deep while you cried and moaned and struggled to hold onto him.

Theres a sick sense of satisfaction filling him up, his mind clears for half a second and Chisaki thinks to look over his shoulder, seeing Chrono still standing there with a soured look on his face, cock still swollen and drippy and bobbing purple against the man's stomach.

"Get out." Chisaki orders, and Chrono knows enough to merely pick up his coat and wrap it around himself before exiting the room. He's never seen his boss like this - so feral and unhinged and debauched like some regular dirty plebeian.

But Chisaki doesn't care. Odd.

He cares about grinding against you, feeling you milk every last drop of cum from his balls, shimmying his hips to hear you gasp and moan and clutch at his body, trembling like a little lamb.

Chisaki doesn't want to stop.

"As soon as my knot goes down-" He growls, lowering his face until it's mere inches from your own, breathing into your space. "I'm going to take you to my room and knot you until you break."

[twinkleimagines]

Hiii drew smut where they meet from Madison and have been talking and then the cast plus y/n go out clubbing and they confess there feelings / also can drew be rough.

*Keep it on the low*

Warning: smut and language.

I got carried away with this one so I hope you guys like.

“ I just feel like we never see each other anymore “ you spoke over the phone Bailey.

“ I know” she whined out. “ listen we’ll fly you out this weekend so we can hang and you can meet my friends okay? You’re going to love them “ she insisted.

“ okay” you agreed, the feeling of excitement rushing through you. Madison was your best friend since middle school and it had been a touch transition since she began filming her new tv show, Outer Banks. Of course you talked on the phone but it wasn’t the same, and you missed her truly.

You had almost became envious of her new cast mates because they were daily posting videos and pictures with each other and it made you miss her more than ever .

You quickly went back to your bedroom, packing a suit case- the weekend couldn’t come any faster .

****

“ I’m walking down the escalator now” you spoke as you sat on the phone with Madison trying to find your way to her.

“ okay - wait I think I see you” she spoke out.

“ y/n!” You heard someone yell from in front of you. You lifted your head only to see Madison standing at the bottom of the escalator, her hand waving at 90 miles per hour.

“ Maddy!” You yelled before jogging your way down the already moving steps.

“ oh my gosh!” You yelled out as you both wrapped each other in a tight hug.

“ I’m gonna cry “ she spoke as she squeezed her arms around your shoulders.

“ ugh I know I’ve missed you so much” you poured .

“ c’mon we’ve only got the weekend and I have soooo much to show you” she insisted, tugging on your arm .

****

The ride to Madison’s hotel that she was staying it a was a bit of a drive from the apartment. She was staying pretty close to the beach and Charleston was probably one of the most beautiful cities you had ever laid your eyes on.

Madison had updated you on a lot, including a new girl she was talking to as well as her new friends and their characters on the show.

“ this Rafe guy sounds like a dick” you joked.

“ yeah but you’ll love Drew he’s literally polar opposite than his character . “

******

"Ahhh she's back!" a blonde headed boy beamed, running over towards your friend, ingulfing her in a hug.

"Rudy this is Y/n" She said with a wide smile, pulling you over.

"Hi" You beamed holding your hand out but Rudy instead pulled you into a hug.

"So glad you finally made it. Maddie over here wouldn't shut up about how much she missed you" He joked.

"Awe Maddie " You said with a sympathetic pout.

"Shut up" She laughed while rolling her eyes before pulling you further into the hotel.

"Guys" She spoke out loudly to a group of people sitting on her couch causing all of their eyes to advert towards you. " This is Y/n" She announced pulling you up next to her.

You awkwardly waved, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as she practically put the spot light onto you.

"I'm Chase" One guy said leaning over the couch, holding his hand out.

"I'm Madelyn " The blonde girl next to him said standing up, walking over towards you. " it's nice to meet you" she beamed, pulling you into a hug.

'Okay so everyone is big into hugs,' you thought. You smiled widely at her before you looked over at another one walking towards you.

"I'm Jonathan Daviss, but you can call me JD" He spoke. you nodded excitedly.

"That's a cool nickname" you beamed, causing a smile to form on his face. You then looked over towards the last face on the couch.

Woah.

Now this man- he almost took your breath away. He stood up, his tall figure stretching high towards the ceiling.

"Hi, i'm Drew" He spoke, his voice the perfect tone, almost sounded like music to your ears. He had these sky blue eyes, perfectly pink lips, a little bit of fuzz on his jaw from being recently shaved, and brown hair draped over the sides of his forehead, parting perfectly down the middle. Your heart began to pound as he reached his hand out for you to shake. You hadn't realized you were staring until Madison nudged you with her elbow, bringing you out of your trance.

"Oh uhm yeah- i mean hi I'm y/n" You stuttered embarrassingly. He smiled a bright smile, his white teeth shining perfectly on his perfectly aligned face.

You sighed deeply. You never believed in love at first sight until now. How perfect this stranger was to you. If it weren't for you not wanting to humiliate yourself even more than you already were, you would've continued looking at him with admiration, but instead you turned your head to look at Maddie, trying to not to creep the poor guy out.

"okay guys I'm starving" Chase spoke up as the room filled with silence. "who wants to go eat?" He asked throwing his hands up. You grinned , already loving everyone's bubbly personality.

You sat your bag down onto the ground before tucking your hair behind your ear, watching as everyone began to make their way out the door.

"After you" Drew said, you and him being the last ones left in the room.

"Thanks" you said softly, walking out in front of him as he held the door open for you.

Who would've known that this would only the beginning of a very special relationship.

********

"Drew" You spoke out before his lips placed onto yours once again, his hand placed firmly on your thigh as your were tangled in his hair.

"Hmm" He hummed against your lips, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

"We should tell them" You breathed out in between kisses.

"Mmm" he mumbled, his eyes closed as his lips trailed down your jaw towards your neck.

"I'm serious Drew I don't want to hide you anymore" You responded pulling away from him.

He stopped his movements, making eye contact with you.

"You sure?" He asked.

You and Drew had instantly hit it off that first weekend Madison brought you over.

It had happened the first night you had stayed the night. Everyone had fallen asleep and you and Drew stayed up for hours on hours endlessly talking about anything and everything. The sparks were flying. You were so engaged in every word that came out of his mouth, his sentences sounding like lullabies to your ears.

Before you had left you both had exchanged numbers and before you could even make it to the airport you were both texting each other. Throughout the first week you both spent every night on the phone until one had fallen asleep. It had almost became addictive the way he made you feel.

Neither of you spoke of your friendship to anyone though. Mainly wanting to take things slow but you also didn't want to upset anyone or cause any issues between Drew and Madison. He assured you it wouldn't upset anyone or cause issues but at the same time he wanted to respect your wishes and keep things a secret.

You both had been virtually seeing each other for three weeks before he flew you out for a weekend, just the two of you. You had stayed with him the whole weekend, movie nights and a lot of sex.

This week though you were invited by the whole group, and right now you were hidden off in Drew's hotel hiding from the group with Drew laid on top of you, the both of you shirtless.

"We can tell them tonight okay, i just want to enjoy the time we have together right now" He insisted. You simply nodded before leaning your head forward before placing your lips against his once again.

Drew sat up, smirking at you as he tugged on your jeans, pulling them down your thighs, exposing your pink laced panties that complimented your skin so well.

"So beautiful" Drew mumbled as his hands massaged against your thighs before reaching up towards your panties pulling them down as well. He reached over to the nightstand grabbing the condom on the top before pushing his own pants down, exposing his hardened pink shaft, the veins popping out the side.

You stared in admiration at the size as he placed the rubber over him.

"Flip over" he instructed. You quickly obliged, your face in his pillow. He tucked his arm under your waist, pulling your hips bag some to wear your bottom was pointed upwards.

You gasped loudly as you felt his tip insert into you, stretching your walls around him.

"fuck" you moaned out as he pushed into you, his hips pressed against your cheeks before he pulled back out, letting your own juices help lubricate him before he pushed back in at a faster speed.

"Fuck you're tight" Drew groaned out as he slowly pulled himself of you again, leaving just the tip in. You looked over your shoulder, smirking up at him as he looked down at you, his Adams apple poking out. Drew sighed heavily , closing his eyes for a brief second almost coming undone right then and there just from the sight of you.

He finally regained his composer, looking back down at you before pressing his hand onto the back of your head pushing your face further into the pillow before he began moving his hips once again, this time at a much faster pace.

"God Drew" you cried out as he hit your spot with each thrust, your hands balling in a fist around his sheets as you struggled to breath, overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You arched your back further against Drew, giving him more access to go deeper into you, your hips moving causing your walls to tighten around him.

"Fuck" He breathed out, lowing his head some as we watched himself sliding in and out of you, his abs flexing with each thrust.

"Oh yes daddy yes "You moaned out, reaching behind you, grabbing hold of his hand that was placed on your bottom.

"You like that baby?" He asked before placing a firm smack against your left cheek. You hissed out , biting down on your bottom lip as your eyes focused on his body jerking forward over and over again, every inch of his body flexing as he moved himself in and out of you.

Since that first weekend you and Drew had spent together alone, he had learned more and more ways to work your body, especially when he realized you enjoyed it rough like him.

"Pull my hair baby" you pleaded, attempting to tug on his hand that had a firm grip on your hip while your body continued rocking back and forth.

Drew quickly obliged, reaching up to grab a hand full of your hair, pulling you back towards him, your back arched to where your arms stretched out, your hands placed against his pillows.

"God yes" You winced out, a slight stinging as he had a tight grip on your hair.

"Fuck princess" he groaned feeling his climax beginning to build. His thrusts began to speed up, your tits bouncing in the air as he continued to pound into you. You leaned up some, arm wrapping around his neck . You both began to lower, you practically sitting in his lap as he leaned back, propped up on one arm as the other had his hand wrapped against your throat. His thrusts were now at a steady but rough pace, slamming up against you as he placed sloppy kisses alongside your shoulder.

"God" He groaned out as his thrusts slowed down, turning more into grinds as his cock pulsed inside you, his warm load filling the condom. You begin rocking your hips back and forth along him riding your own high out, moaning his name out loudly as your toes curled, your climax euphoric. You climbed off of Drew, flopping your body down onto the his bed, breathing heavily as you ran your hands through your hair.

"That was amazing" you breathed out. Drew nodded, himself out of breath as well.

"I'm gonna get a shower" He responded as he stood up, his member beginning to soften. "We gotta meet everyone in two hours. Wanna join?" He asked. You smiled up at him before nodding, grabbing ahold of his reached out hand.

*****

"Finally" Madison groaned as she saw you climbing out of the black SUV that escorted you to the night club you and the gang were linking up at .

"Sorry got caught up" you responded brushing the hair out of your face as the wind blew against it.

"I can see" she chuckled, her eyes focused on the round purple hickey on your collarbone. Your eyes widened, you had almost forgotten about it. You had saw the hickey as you did your make up and Drew's shower but had forgotten to cover it.

"Who were you with?" She asked out of curiosity but you only shook your head, pretending to be shy about your actions.

"ugh okay come on everyone else is inside" She responded. You nodded before tugging slightly on your black dress as it rode up your thighs. You had your hair down with white sneakers on, a simple butterfly necklace and a skin tight strapless dress on that barely that went down a few inches on your thighs.

The music was loud, everyone definitely lit as you both walked in. Your eyes roamed the club. It was definitely a party style. There a lot of people around dancing, and neon objects glowing in the black lights. Madison guided you to the corner booth your shared friends resided in, including Drew.

""You look so cute!" Madelyn beamed as she wrapped you in a tight hug.

"You too babes" You responded, well yelled as you placed your chin on her shoulder, only to see Drew standing behind her, his eyes focused on your body. He almost looked upset. Seeming how you were still on the low about your relationship you didn't confront him, but you did check him out from afar. He stood on the side next to JD black denim jeans with a white striped button up collared shirt, with his signature gold chain around his neck and a black watch on his wrist.

Despite just getting your back blown out by Drew, you had to leave before anyone came searching for you so you didn't get to see Drew dressed up, the last image you had of him was of him in a towel and his wet hair slicked back.

He was looking so good at this point you had to distance yourself from him before you made it obvious of your secret.

"Come dance" Madelyn pleaded tugging on your arm.

"I need to be drunk before i get onto the dance floor" You joked. Madelyn though took you serious and walked over to the bar, ordering at least two shots for everyone since you were each going to be getting an Uber back to the hotels.

"Okay drink up" She responded holding both yours and her shot in the air. You quickly glanced over towards your secret boyfriend who was watching you intensely before you tossed your head back opening your throat, letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat.

"phew" you said, a shiver following shortly after.

"Okay, One more " Madelyn insisted. You didn't plan to get shit faced of course , but you were definitely interested in a good time so you obliged, repeating the same action again, this time the liquids going down a bit easier. You both stood for a second in silence before she shook her head.

"I think one more with do us justice " She grinned. You chuckled, already feeling a slight buzz coming as the alcohol spread through your blood stream.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" You heard someone mumble from behind you. You looked over to see Drew standing behind you. You furrowed your brows together. How the hell did he get over there so fast?

"Don't " you mumbled before looking down at the table trying to avoid his gaze. "You're making it obvious" You responded before taking a step away, turning your back towards him.

Unfortunately you didn't notice how much those words actually upset Drew. IT had almost felt like he was an embarrassment to you with how much effort you put in to hiding him so he walked away, finding his way back next to JD.

"You okay man?" JD asked as he saw the obvious frown on Drew's face.

"Yeah man" He mumbled as he looked across the both of them, watching you quickly gulp away yet another shot of alcohol, bursting into laughter shortly after with Madelyn. He shook his head in disappointment. Of course he wanted you to have fun but he just didn't want you to get so waisted you end up doing something you regret and him not being able to help you since you didn't want him to show his affection towards you in front of everyone.

"Want a shot?" Drew asked glancing over at JD who also looked not too amused at the moment with the environment and in need of some lighting up. They both watched you and Madelyn make your way to the dance floor, merging in with the crowd as the quickly took their first shot, both of them sighing heavily as they attempted to mask the burning feeling.

You immediately began swaying your hips to the upbeat music, the alcohol coursing through your body, giving you an almost out of body type feeling, something you usually didn't get unless you were in bed with Drew.

You didn't intend to jump into the party that fast. after 2 songs Chase had came by with more shots, unaware to the previous t3 you both had taken but neither of you denied them, quickly throwing your head back, wiping the drips off your chin as you looked over at Drew who surprisingly paid you no attention. You dancing slowed down as you realized the group Drew was associating with.

You could see JD and Rudy with Drew which was not an issue. it was the 3 bimbos standing with them too, one in particular standing too close for your comfort towards Drew, her index finger twirling in a poorly curled strand of hair.

You rolled your eyes, jealously now running through you. It was obviously intensified from the alcohol but you wanted to drag him away from the girls and show those girls exactly who he belonged to but you knew you couldn't say anything considering you and him were a secret.

"Hi" You heard from behind you. It was a tall brunette guy, pretty stocky with what looked to be hazel eyes and curly brown hair. At least that what you guessed since the dance floor was only lit up from black lights above you.

"Hi" You said with a friendly smile before turning back around, a frown forming as you noticed Drew laughing at whatever the girl closest to him just said.

"You got a name?" The guy asked, dancing behind you. You turned your head, almost ready to tell him to piss off until you glanced over towards Drew who still had not even given you a glance.

"Y/n" You responded as you turned your body completely around, facing towards him.

You studied his face. He looked cute, or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding your judgment. To your drunken eyes, he favored Timothee Chalamet to you, which was some one who was a sight for sore eyes.

- but, never the less, he wasn't Drew.

The guy mentioned his name back to you but between the alcohol and the music , you didn't hear him clearly. You looked to your side to see Chase and Madelyn in their own little world so you shrugged your shoulders, turning back towards the tall boy.

"You come here with someone?" He asked as he took a step closer, his body swaying along with yours to the music. You glanced over your shoulder towards Drew, the same scenario playing as earlier . You rolled your eyes becoming agitated with Drew before you looked back forward trying not to be obvious.

"I thought i did but it's looking like they didn't come in with me" You said, your lips close to his ear as he leaned forward to hear you.

"Huh" He responded leaning back. "That's to bad. You're very beautiful" He responded. You grinned widely, enjoying the attention.

The song changed, turning to a slower song, a more sensual vibe to it. You turned around, swaying your hips up against the guy as his hand wrapped around your waist.

You usually wouldn't do this, but between the alcohol and your jealousy towards Drew, you were enjoying every second of it in hopes Drew would catch on and realize what he was losing.

And surprisingly , that's exactly what happened.

Drew tried to play things your way. He tried to pretend that there was nothing going on between the two of you. He even gave other women attention to make it believable but it was all fake smiles and laughs when really all he wanted was to hold you. He did try his best though, that is until he looked up to check on you only to see your body being held by another guy, your ass pressed against the guys crotch as he practically dry humped you from behind.

Now Drew didn't drink as much as you did, but he did have 1 to 2 shots , enough to help spark a fire inside of him, rage flowing through his veins. Drew didn't hesitate to make his way over to you, his mind only focused on removing the guy from his girl.

"Y/n what the fuck" He spat out as he tugged on your hand, trying to remove you from him. Your eyes widened, guilt instantly flowing through you. You didn't mean for any of this to happen and seeing Drew standing in front of you fuming, you couldn't help but to feel embarrassed by your actions.

"Man back off alright she's just having a good time" The guy said with a cocky smirk plastered across his face.

"Fuck off " Drew scolded before looking back at you, completely brushing the guy off.

"This is really how you want to sell it ?" He said, his voice louder than normal because of the music, but those surrounding him including Chase and Madelyn hearing.

"Oh go fuck yourself Drew" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You began to march off of the dance floor, making your way towards the table you were previously at, leaving the stranger stranded.

"REal mature Y/n" He responded following closely behind you. The rest of the group followed behind, beyond confused as to why the two of you would even be arguing like this.

"Oh but you weren't doing the same thing over here with the chick ? Laughing at every little thing she said" You spat out.

He threw his hands up.

"Y/n i was trying to play your little game of secrets" He argued back.

"Wait what secrets?" Madison spat out. The both of you stared at each other, unsure who was going or not going to spill the truth.

"No point in hiding it anymore Y/n" Drew argued. You furrowed your brows in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest as Drew spoke. Which he was absolutely right which upset you anymore.

"Somebody better start talking in point two second or -"

"We're dating" you interrupted, looking over towards Madison.

Everyone's jaw dropped except for JD's, his response was jut of him shaking his head.

"What!?" Madison yelled out in shock.

"Like talking?" She asked, looking between the two of you. " Or like, dating dating?"

"More like dating dating" Rudy butted in, pushing his index finger into a circle he made with his other hand, indicating intercourse.

You quickly placed your head in your hand with embarrassment.

"No fucking way" Chase responded, a wide grin on his face.

"Bro why didn't you tell me?" Chase yelled out placing his hand on Drew's shoulder.

"We didn't want anyone mad at us or like, i don't know it ruin this friendship we all have" You responded, lowering your head in disappointment.

"Y/n are you delusional? Why would that make any of us mad ?" Madison replied with a wide grin on his face.

"You guys, i called it" JD finally spoke, a cocky smirk across his face.

"Whaattt? " you responded looking over at him with confusion.

"You guys have been clung to each other since you first met. I'm not stupid" He laughed. You shook your head, a grin forming on your face.

"Okay the cats out of the bag so you guys don't have to continue pretending okay? " Madelyn responded. "Can we please get back to dancing?" She pleaded. They all nodded before the group once again went their separate ways, leaving you and Drew alone at the table.

"I'm sorry" You responded stepping closer towards him, placing your hand on his.

"ME too" He responded looking down at you.

"I kind of want to get out of here, yanno" You said with a smirk on your face. He grinned back, nodding his head.

"agreed".

*****

Hope you guys liked!

✨feedback as well as a like and reblog is always appreciated 💗✨

[goddess-of-green]

I loveee how you write for Tobi! Could I please request some naughty Tobi overstimulating/slight dumification of his fem s/o?

yessssssss T^T

Warnings: Language, NSFW, overstimulation, dumbification, praise/degradation, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex

"Good girl~ such a cute little slut for Tobi~" Tobi cooed as you cried out.

He praised you and degraded you at the same time, but you were hardly hearing his words.

Your mind was muddled and your thoughts were broken up and clouded with need. All you could think about were his fingers and the pleasure they brought you. You never wanted him to stop, you just wanted to feel the quaking pleasure forever.

Tobi smiled at the state he had reduced you to. He had been at it for hours, fingering you and teasing your clit as you came undone under him.

He had insisted on only using his fingers on you, which left you needy as he made you cum over and over with his fingers; you fully bare before him while he was completely clothed.

The only part of his skin that was showing were his hands as he fingered you; and you would have admired the blue nail polish on his fingers if they weren't currently curling into your g-spot and breaking your mind with lust.

"T-T-Tobi!" You moaned, arching into him.

"Hm, what is it, pretty lady?" Tobi asked, unbothered.

You trembled as he pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in a way that had you coming undone again.

"M-M' gonna cum!" You cried out, tearing up at the overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh? And what do you say~?" Tobi asked, his fingers momentarily slowing as he waited for you to answer him.

You bit your lip, hardly coherent and trying to force out what he wanted to hear so that he'd keep going.

"P-P-Please!"

Tears ran down your cheeks and Tobi thought you never looked prettier, underneath him and teary for him, for his fingers and the pleasure he could bring you.

"That's it, baby~ cum for Tobi. Dirty girl, getting off on my fingers~"

As you came (for what? The third, fourth time?) on his fingers, you let out a broken moan. Clenching on Tobi's fingers and writhing as he didn't stop his movements.

He helped you ride out your high and then some, and your breathing shallowed as he overstimulated you.

"T-Tobi! Too much, too much, too much!" You writhed, twisting away from his fingers as the pleasure became unbearable.

Having a bit of mercy on you, Tobi removed his fingers, allowing you a short amount of time to catch your breath.

Tobi's eyes darkened as he watched your chest rise and fall, and he was all too aware of his own erection straining against his pants.

"Y/N-Chan is ready for Tobi, yes?"

You couldn't exactly respond, your mouth open as your breathing started to calm down.

"Aw," Tobi cooed, grabbing your face and bringing it up to him. "Y/N-Chan is tired. Cutie, do you want me now?" He asked.

You gazed up at him with glazed eyes, hardly seeing him. Nonetheless, you managed a slow nod.

"Aw," Tobi said again, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "Don't you worry, Y/N-Chan. Tobi will do all the work. And he will make you feel so good~"

Tobi finally pulled out his cock, but he didn't bother to fully undress himself as he grabbed your hips and pulled you towards his waiting erection.

Tobi started to slip himself inside of you, and he groaned at how wet you were as he easily slid in and out.

You moaned immediately, his hard cock filling you so full. Filling you up and hitting all your spots. So much better than his fingers.

You drooled as his pace increased and he had to hold your hips to keep his hard thrusts from moving you.

You whimpered at how sensitive you were from your previous orgasms, and how good Tobi's cock felt inside you.

You were going to cum embarrassingly quickly but at this point your mind was too empty to even feel ashamed as you started to clench down on his cock.

"Ah- Y/N-Chan- Fuck." Tobi groaned, his pace only increasing as he felt your walls hug his cock.

"Ah! Ah! T-Tobi!" You cried out, trembling as you came again.

Tobi didn't stop though, fucking you hard as he aimed for his own climax. Only more turned on as you cried out from overstimulation.

Tears ran down your face, and Tobi groaned as he started to reach his peak.

You moaned at the feeling of Tobi's warm seed inside you, filling you up. In your stil dreary mind you felt satisfaction that you were the one to receive his cum.

Tobi thrusted slowly as he came, and he finally pulled out of you as his cock started to soften.

"Mm, Y/N-Chan was such a good girl for Tobi. So good~" Tobi cooed, pulling you up so you could rest your body against his.

He pulled up his mask and kissed the tear tracks on your cheeks. He felt a little mean but it was so sexy. And you weren't complaining.

"Tobi's going to get Y/N-Chan cleaned up, and then we can sleep, okay?" Tobi said lightly.

You didn't respond, already drifting off as your cheek rested against Tobi's chest.

[ardent-musings]

“Make it Up to Me”

Neville Longbottom Smut

based off this request by @sunshine-weasley . hope you enjoy love! 

EVERYONE IN THIS STORY IS OF LEGAL AGE AND CONSENTING

Warnings: NSFW18+, soft dom!neville, swearing, overstimulation, crying, oral f receiving, fingering. vaginal sex, aftercare, just filth you guys, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR SHIT)

“C’mon, love! I said I’m sorry. Truly. I’m absolutely sorry.”

You had heard it time and time again. Neville was spending all of his extra time in the greenhouses. Before every class and after every meal, he would go into his hideaway from hours on end. You knew of his love for herbology and were endlessly supportive of him, but sometimes Neville got a little too caught up in it. So much to a point that he forgot to manage his time well.

And you’ve had enough.

“No, Neville! You’ve hardly talked to me all week,” you sighed in frustration as you settled onto his bed. He had begged you almost to the point of tears to just come back to him so he could explain himself. You indulged him even though you knew you had no plans on making his apology easy on him. “What’s going to happen when your finals come along? Are you just going to fully disappear even more than you have been?”

“No, darling. Goodness. I’m sorry. I don’t even know what else to say besides I’m sorry, petal.”

Of course, he was sorry. Neville knew you like the back of his palm and would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. Even his Remembrall that he got back as a child never helped keep his head on straight. But he had to learn eventually.

“Neville, I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just forgive and forget. Do you know how lonely I’ve been this week?”

His olive brown eyes shot to the floor in sadness, the small frown tugged at your heart. He was so sweet and typically the ideal boyfriend, but even Neville screwed up sometimes. At the sight of his dejected expression, all you wanted to do was give in. But you couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

“I love you so much, Neville,” you admitted while stroking his cheek, “But even I’m sorry isn’t going to fix this.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, holding onto your thighs and dropping his head onto your lap. By now, you would have had your fingers weaved through his dark locks, either twisting them lovingly or tugging at them at the root. Instead, you just let him lay there as the pain of the previous week bubbled in your chest.

“Please let me make it up to you, sweet,” he sat back on his heels to place gentle kisses to the inside of your knee, his eyes almost welling with tears. “Just give me the word and I will make you feel more loved than you’ve ever had. For me, from anyone.”

Neville was caressing the back of your ankle, tickling the area as his lips continued their journey up the inside of your thigh.

Everything in you wanted to push him away and continue hollering at him, but Neville’s desperate eyes and sweet kisses were affecting you more than you wished they would. Your hands found refuge in the small strands at the base of his neck, raking your nails through it.

The sensation sent a shiver down Neville’s spine, electrifying his nerves for the first time in a week. “Is that a yes? God, please let me touch you. Have you missed me, doll?”

His big eyes peered into yours with such anticipation, his nose trailed the inside of your leg, just trying to lean into you like a cat at its post.

“Fuck, I can smell you, love. Just give me a nod and I’ll make you feel good. You don’t even have to forgive me just yet. But let me make up for this week. Yeah?”

He let go of you entirely, leaving the question hanging in the air just waiting to be fulfilled. The image of him at his knees with swollen lips and messy hair was your downfall. The week away from him, from his touch and his tongue was too much. And there it was, sitting in front of you just begging to make your night. You couldn’t refuse that.

“Make it up to me.”

With the greenlight, Neville rose to his knees and pulled you down for a rushed and hard kiss. His desperation was evident as his tongue fought for dominance, but you didn’t give in so easily. Once he saw you weren’t giving in so easily, he slipped his hands up your skirt and traced you through your panties. The unexpected touch made you gasp, and easily, just like that, your fight was gone. He moaned into your mouth, practically growling as he drank you in for the first time.

His lips continued down your neck where he lingered and nibbled on the sweet spot beneath your ear. You moaned at every suck and blow in afflicted on your neglected skin, your back arching into his face which had now settled at the top of your shirt.

“Lemme see you, girl,” he hummed as he unbuttoned your shirt from the top down. Soon enough, the garment was flung across the room and his lips now teased the valley between your breasts. If that wasn’t enough, his firm circles across your clothed clit grew faster, making you rock against him. Neville was always so good when it came to your body.

“Nev,” you mewled as his fingers hooked around your panties to flick your clit directly.

“Yeah, baby?” he unclipped your bra and began sucking on your swollen nipples while he used his free hand to hold your body against his hungry mouth.

You forgot that you had said anything, as Neville’ combination of playing with your tits and rubbing your clit left you hazy and sensitive. Endless cries and moans spilled from your lips, making him smile around your chest.

The coiled burning in your hips grew and grew, feeling attention for the first time that week left you more responsive than typical. Soon enough, his lips switched breasts and his thumb rested heavily on your aching clit in rhythmic circles.

Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing your orgasm which came rushing through you without warning.

“Fuck Neville!” You cried as the fire in your tummy never lessened.

Your boyfriend’s ministrations on your clit never stopped, instead he crouched lower to dip his head beneath your skirt, not even bothering to move it out of the way. The navy panties you were wearing were long gone, and instead Neville’s tongue pressed against your dripping cunt with a fat lick.

There was no chance to calm down from your first high, because not only was Neville sucking on your clit with kitten licks and nose dips, he had sunk two fingers into you and hooked into your sweet spot without issue. The calloused pads of his fingers which were rough from repeatedly gardening for most of his life worked you to the brink of another orgasm.

“Babe, I can feel you squeezing me. Fuck, you’re so tight. C’mon, dove. Cum again. You can do it.”

Even if you didn’t want to, the orgasm that Neville was curating with his teasing tongue and curling fingers left you no other option.

Once again, he drew another high from your heaving body, making it almost impossible to breath under your overheated skin.

But he didn’t stop. His fingers kept pumping into you with an unforgiving motion, curling and scissoring to continuously fuck with you in every way.

“Too much, I can’t,” you moaned as his lips reconnected with your clit.

“You can, babe. I know you can. And you deserve it,” he whined as he rocked into the side of his mattress as he abandoned his fingers from your sore pussy to wrap them around your ankles. He held your legs above your chest, leaving you fully exposed to his greedy tongue.

He had never eaten you out in this position before, but his tongue dipped in and out of your cunt while he wiggled his nose into your clit. The whine that escaped your lips was embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t hold it in. Since he started, Neville hadn’t allowed you any time to recover and the attention was growing to be overwhelming.

A tear dripped from the side of your eye as your knees met your chest over and over as he continued to fuck you with is tongue. Unable to stable yourself, you reached around your trembling legs to tug at his hair. That was a mistake, since Neville’s growling into your cunt only made you more needy.

“Nev, s-too much,” you cried out, unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure your boyfriend was giving you.

“Safeword if you need to doll, but I can tell that you needed this. My sweet girl needed to get fucked out of her mind. I’m making up for lost time, honey,” he cooed as he licked your clit with just the tip of his tongue, his hands still holding your legs to your chest, “But you’ve been craving this. Probably couldn’t even get yourself off without me, huh?”

His tongue dipped into you again, making you mewl and whine beneath him.

“You’re gonna cum again,” he demanded as one hand fell to the apex of your thighs where he rubbed at your clit harshly while pistoning his tongue in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace.

Swears and cries and screams of his name fell from your lips, your body feel like a rag doll once he finally let you relax into his bed. The room was spinning as you tried your hardest to relax, but your eyes widened once Neville stood up and ripped his sweater from his toned chest.

His crooked grin was glistening with what you could only assume was you, but you were too tired to investigate it. You whined once Neville reached for his belt, undoing the buckle which was pressing down on his bulge.

“Neville, I can’t,” you cried, a tear got caught at the bridge of your nose.

He crawled on top of you and pushed your sweaty hair away from your forehead before kissing the tip of your nose. It felt like forever since he had kissed you.

“Give me the safeword, and we’ll be done, love,” he said as he fully hovered above you, making sure to keep his weight off your already wrecked body.

Neville held your cheek in his hand, just stroking the flushed skin as he waited for an answer. Your gaze fell over his puffy pink lips and concerned stare. Even when he was rock hard, all Neville could do was care about you. While he waited for your answer, his lips peppered over your cheekbone and your jaw and the creases between the brow. It was sickeningly sweet, and you knew you had to have him.

“Make me feel good,” you whispered the same phrase from earlier, and only found that it made him smile again.

“I plan on it, flower,” he hummed as he pulled himself out of his boxers, just resting his length along your sensitive pussy. With a final kiss, he sunk into you fully, making you cry out at the pressure that was put on your already spent body.

Another tear fell, you couldn’t help it, Neville just felt too good.

“You’ve done so well, darling,” he praised as he snapped his hips slowly. Thankfully he wouldn’t take long considering he’d been hard the whole time his face was between your thighs. “My pretty girl listened to me so well, did everything I asked her to. You feel so good, love.”

His compliments flooded your mind, leaving you weeping and exhausted. Your body felt like it was on fire and numb at the same time. He leaned forward as he rocked into you, making his pelvis grind into your clit yet again.

You whined and clung onto him, gripping and scratching whatever skin you could reach. The high was building again, no matter how tired you were. Neville just knew how to make you feel good.

“I’m right there, sweetie. God your pussy is perfect,” he moaned as he kissed your neck again.

You were done, your final orgasm rushed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you drowning in the pleasure laced with pain. The pulsing brought Neville to his own end, making him groan lowly as he came alongside you.

The skin at the small of your back was sticky with sweat, the way Neville fucked you was a full body workout. He fell beside you while he placed soft kisses to the tops of your freckled shoulder. The boy couldn’t help but hold you and giggle at the look of pure pleasure that covered every inch of your face.

“I’m still sorry, love,” he admitted as he covered the two of you with his duvet, cradling you in his arms like his most prized possession, “I swear I’ll never leave you hanging like that again.”

“Well, I mean, you can keep making more mistakes if you apologize like that,” you mused.

Neville let out a soft chuckle, playing with your hair as the two of you fell asleep together.

[j-pankratz]

Stuck in the Middle with You

A gift for the lovely @chubbykatsudon for the Novigrad Gift Exchange 2021!

Geraskefer, minor Lamden. 16507 Words. Can also be read here on ao3! Rated M for an abundance of cursing and deeply suggestive flirting! Tags for a small amount of canon typical violence, & a very big dog (Roach, my love)! Other tags include: Oh My God The Were Neighbors, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers, We're Really Running The Gamut Here, Going viral on TikTok, The best lease of all fucking time, apple juice, and ever changing groupchat names.

x

“A year! A full year. Two! THREE!”

“Hmm.” Geralt muttered. In one hand above his head, he dangled the dead-though-still-writhing remains of a drowner. He’d stabbed it in the spine— nerve damage, unfortunate stuff. At his feet, the groveling man who’d gotten him into this mess in the first place. About 75% of the people he had to rescue from monsters, he found, were the rich sticking their noses places they oughtn’t, out of pure arrogance. This one, a landlord, apparently, had decided to wander off drunkenly from a party and go poking about the river.

He whimpered. “I— I’ll throw in maintenance! Please, Witcher, I—”

“Do you allow pets,” he asked dryly, “I need a place for Roach.” He gestured with his head to Roach, who was watching the thrashing drowner body with interest.

“Ah, no, we don’t—” Geralt dug his thumb into a wound in the deceased drowner’s neck, causing it to hiss and send out spittle. The kneeling landlord cried in fear.

“Yes! Yes! Fine, we can accept your dog, please, please Witcher I can’t die, I—”

“Deal,” Geralt said, and thrust his sword through the drowner once more, severing its head from its body. The man yelped as blood and assorted monster bits sprayed out. Geralt dropped the remnants of its head and neck to the ground, landing with a sickening splat, and the man wailed again.

“When’s move in?”

——

Move-in, as it turned out, was a week and a half later, the first of the month. It was a good apartment, better than he’d have ever rented for himself— a quiet street, an elevator, laundry in the basement, and a doorman half the time. Geralt had a view of the city from his bedroom and of the tree-lined street below from his brightly and naturally lit living room, while the second bedroom had a view of the apartment’s courtyard. The kitchen was a good size, though he didn’t cook much, and it had a dishwasher, which was worth its weight in gold. There was a corner shop at the end of the block, and a few restaurants, coffee shops, and bars within walking distance. Eskel and Coën would love visiting, at least, and if he got a decent enough couch and tv, Lambert would too. Not that they’d have much opportunity to visit, but he could have his dreams, few and minor as they were.

It was on the 8th floor, which was high enough to feel safe. There were only four apartments to a floor, which helped. Ultimately, he figured, nobody would really suspect a Witcher to live in a regular apartment building. And if anyone came after him, well, he’d deal with that then. With Ciri away at school, he would have less to stress about. He’d be subtle, wouldn’t tell people in the building he was a Witcher, wouldn’t talk much to anyone, would hope they wouldn’t notice his eyes. He’d wear sunglasses. It would be fine! This apartment was probably the second most favorable payment he’d ever had from a contract—the first of course, being Ciri— he wasn’t about to turn it down, or regret taking it.

Even when he was stuck in the elevator with, quite possibly, the most annoying man on earth.

Geralt was taking the last of his suitcases upstairs, which was really Roach’s suitcase, and a box of his cooking supplies— an embarrassingly small number of pots, pans, bowls, plates, and utensils. Just as the door was closing—

“WAIT! Hold that, hold that, if you’d please, fuck!”

A man with brown hair came barreling toward the elevator, just barely sticking his expensive looking brown leather shoe in the doors before they closed. They slid open with a soft ding, and the man, out of breath, tumbled inside.

He was tall, with a mop of brown hair and egregiously bright teal pants, a slightly lighter blue dress shirt tucked in to match. He heaved against the elevator walls, breathing heavily and eventually sinking down to a crouch to catch his breath.

“Good save,” Geralt said.

“Thank you,” the man said between gasps. “You saved my life.”

“I didn’t do anything."

The man waved his hand at the buttons. “Button. Button. You. Press. You pressed the— you know.”

“No I didn’t.”

The man paused, his breathing slowly going back to normal. “You didn’t—” He looked up at Geralt, his eyes a brilliant, piercing blue. He was frowning. “What do you mean you didn’t? You didn’t press the button?”

“Nope.”

The man came to standing, and Geralt found that the man wasn’t just tall, he was nearly Geralt’s height. “You mean to tell me, you see a man running for the elevator, screaming for you to hold the door, and instead you just— just stand there and watch?”

Geralt lifted his box a bit. “Got my hands full.”

“You have elbows! Two of them, might I add!” the man cut in before Geralt could lift the suitcase tucked into the crook of one arm. Instead, he shrugged.

“More fun to watch you run.”

“More fun to— I cannot believe this,” the man said, looking up at the floor numbers. The elevator continued to rise, and he suddenly groaned. “Ah, fuck, we’ve missed my floor,” he said, fumbling over to the buttons. Geralt frowned.

“We’re only on the fifth floor.” He watched the man press the button for the second floor. “You ran to the elevator… to go to the second floor?”

“I don’t like stairs!” he complained; Geralt could tell he’d had to give this explanation many times before.

“You like running more than stairs?”

“I would run toward convenience any day.”

“Mmm,” Geralt hummed softly.

They stood in silence for a moment. “Sorry, who are you? New neighbor, then?”

“Yep.”

“Do you have a name, or must I call you Mildly Rude Elevator Man? You wouldn’t be the first to earn a title from me. I don’t even know the woman’s name who lives in the Penthouse so now she’s just Penthouse Lady. But surely you have a name?”

Geralt smiled. “8b.”

“Oh, hilarious, 8b, alright, then I’m 2d. Lovely to meet you, 8b,” he said as the doors slid open to the 8th floor. “Do you need some help with those?”

“No,” Geralt said, and maneuvered himself out of the elevator carefully.

“Alright, fine then, if you say so, but I’m very helpful, actually, when I need to be. I have two hands, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Geralt grunted and approached his door. Fishing in his pocket for his keys for a moment, he found himself turned to the man in the elevator— 2d— and watched as his eyes grew wide as they fell on Geralt’s medallion, just as the elevator dinged and the doors began to slide closed. Well. Fuck.

“Wait— is that—” 2d’s eyes grew wide, and then a grin split across his face. “You’re a Witcher, aren’t you! Wait!” but the doors had already met, and the elevator began its descent.

Okay, so, subtlety gone, and given how chatty 2d had been, he figured it was only a matter of time before the entire building knew. That was the price for a free 3-year lease in a building far above his price range at the best of times, he supposed.

There was no way this would be worth it.

——

There were three days of peace, before 2d came knocking.

It was mid-afternoon, and in the living room the sunlight streamed through his new windows onto the small amount of furniture he’d arranged so far. Roach’s bed, his orange couch, a small tv, a chair, a barstool, a bookcase. Everything else was either still in boxes or simply not purchased yet— he’d never had need for it. He didn’t even know what to do with an apartment he could enjoy spending time in. The morning had been spent sitting on the couch, letting his coffee go cold as he looked around and tried to figure out what to do with this place he might actually be able to relax in. Until, of course, the knocking began.

He tried to ignore it, but 2d was persistent. After the 5th set of knocks, Geralt groggily rose from his chair, coffee in hand, and opened the door.

“Good morning! Hi, ah, hope you’re alright, settling in well?”

“What do you want.”

“Oh, glad to see you’re in a good mood,” 2d replied easily. His outfit was just as bright today, his pants a vibrant green with a mango pattern on them, his shirt a matching orange, with yellow cuffs, and a… oh, gods above, a guitar case strapped to his back, the leather strap running across his chest, hugging him closely. His clothes fit remarkably well, Geralt noticed, and then tried to promptly un-notice. But it was hard. 2d’s eyes looked especially blue today, which was bullshit. Geralt raised an eyebrow and hoped he wasn’t being obvious about anything, though it wasn’t as if Witchers let their faces be easily readable.

“Listen. You’re a Witcher. Very neat, very cool, I could smell the heroics and heartbreak on you in that elevator, I’m getting whiffs of it even now—”

“That’s sweat. Or coffee.”

“Well, okay, it’s not, but okay. My point here is, you have stories. And I write stories. Well, I write songs. Music. Poetry, art, etcetera. And I’m good, I promise I’m fairly decently good—”

“Was that you on Sunday singing the song about the… rabbit? And the moon?” He didn’t remember it well, but whoever was singing had definitely mentioned worms, as well.

“The… oh! Yes! Ah,” he cleared his throat and began. “But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon? Right? Yes, love that one, it’s a fun one to sing at bars. Great warm-up song. Cosmo Sheldrake! Gotta love them, strange bastards. I should record that for TikTok, now that I think of it.”

“Sure.” The man’s singing voice was… light, airy, with something like a faint rasp in there, but he dipped down low into his register another was a whole new layer of sound there as well. It sounded like him, but it was somehow completely different than what Geralt would have expected the man’s singing voice to be like. “Cows don’t do that, though. And the references to beasts in your other songs were just as unrealistic. You shouldn’t be confusing people, monsters are serious business. Someone could get hurt.”

“Perfect!” 2d cried excitedly. “See! You know these things. I would like to learn these things. Think of it as educating the public, and helping out your great new friend Jaskier. Which, hello, I’m Jaskier. You’re Geralt, right? Of Rivia?”

Geralt shifted on his feet. It shouldn’t have surprised him. There were only so many witchers, let alone ones with long white hair and a wolf medallion. Damn internet. “And if I am?”

Jaskier’s wide grin turned sly. “Then I know for a fact you have stories.”

The witcher sighed. Well. He’d bore this man with his bad storytelling, and he’d get bored, and he’d leave. In the meantime, Geralt would get to look at 2d’s well-fitting clothes and shoulders that looked terrifically broad. It could be worse. There was a long pause.

“Fine. This once. But I’m not your friend.”

“Brilliant! Beautiful, fantastic,” Jaskier was saying, and slipped past Geralt and in to the apartment.

And then Roach barreled in.

“OH, HOLY FUCK!” Jaskier screamed in surprise, as the great Dane barked, getting right up to Jaskier before Geralt quieted her with a quick command. She plopped down at Jaskier’s feet obediently, and stared up at him with big, watery brown eyes. Jaskier’s hands were raised high above his head, and when he spoke, it came out as a raspy whisper.

“I did not know you had a dog. Have you always had this dog? Whose dog is this, this is your dog? How have I missed this. What’s his name?”

“Her name is Roach.”

“Her names Roach,” he repeated in the same horse whisper. “Why have you named your dog after an insect.”

“Can’t get rid of her,” Geralt replied, though he knew that made it sound like he didn’t absolutely adore her. The name had been a joke, and it had stuck, simple as that.

“Oh. Lovely. Okay. Will she eat me? She won’t eat me, right? This is a good dog, a good dog with manners?”

“She won’t eat you. Unless I tell her to.”

“Stop that!! Oh, stop that, oh my gods. Okay. Okay. Hello puppy. Nice, non-murdering puppy. Not a puppy. Good… large dog. Good large girl. You’re nice, aren’t you. You won’t kill me at all, not even a little bit.” He slowly let one hand come down to his side, and Roach surged forward to lick it. Jaskier yanked his hand back up and shut his eyes tightly.

“Okay. Maybe I should come back. At another time when I am more prepared for your non-murdering, not at all monstrous 4-foot tall dog.”

“She’s more like 2 1/2 feet tall.” Geralt cocked his head to the side. “Maybe three.”

“Fuck. Gods. Okay. Okay. Another day then! But definitely. I will want to hear these stories. Okay?”

“Sure,” Geralt agreed. This was more entertainment than he had expected today. He held back laughs, smiling while Jaskier’s eyes were still shut tightly. “Another day, then.”

“Okay. I’m backing out now, he said, and slowly began to do so, not turning away from Roach. She came to standing, and he jumped back at the sound of her nails against the tile floor of the kitchen, eyes still squeezed shut. “OKAY, OH, NO, okay doggie, no following me. No following. Thank you. Okay. I will. See you soon. Okay? Okay.”

And then Jaskier was out the door, and running down the stairwell. Geralt closed the door behind him, and turned to see Roach looking at him, her head cocked. He laughed, and bent down to pet her.

——

It took just over 24 hours for 2d— no, no, Jaskier— to come knocking once more. This time, Geralt answered the door more quickly; best to either get this over with, or get some more laughs out of it while he could. Behind the door stood Jaskier, mildly nervous looking, already glancing over Geralt’s shoulder into the apartment.

It was either a blessing or a curse that Jaskier’s outfit was not nearly as tight-fitting today, though the strap of his guitar case still cut close to his figure against his lavender sweater. In his arms, he held a variety of brand-new-looking dog toys; kongs and bones and pull-ropes and even some balls.

“Hi! Ah, this time, I’ve come prepared! With distractions and assurances your Roach will not eat me. If you’d still be available for relaying some stories?”

“…You bought her toys?”

“Ah…. maybe a bit? Well, yes, I certainly don’t have a dog, I just did some searching for what kind of things abnormally large dogs might enjoy and picked some up on a walk this morning. Nothing big.” Geralt looked again at the pile in Jaskier’s arms. He’d… bought toys. For Roach. Who he’d just met the day previously, and had scared him silly.

The more time he spent around Jaskier, the less he understood about the man.

Geralt took a step back and gave a whistle, and soon Roach was trotting in from his bedroom. He could smell the tension off Jaskier, and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “Try to relax. She’ll know if you’re stressed.”

“Right. No stress, just a dog who could swallow me whole. That’s fine, this is fine.”

“Put your hand out low, so she can sniff.”

After a bit of hesitation, Jaskier took a deep breath and did as he was told. “Friendly, Roach,” Geralt said as she sniffed loudly around Jaskier’s hand. And a moment later, she was licking his hand, sobering all over it. Jaskier laughed nervously, a light and airy sound Geralt found himself enjoying a bit too much. His smile was radiant, the relief in his broad shoulders palpable. He carefully moved his hand to give her a scratch on the cheek, and Roach leaned into it, pressing up against him, her tag wagging a mile a minute.

“Feel better?”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes, yes,” Jaskier said, pulling his attention away from Roach. “I’m really not usually scared of dogs. She’s just… very large, and was unexpected. But you’re a good girl, aren’t you? You’re not nearly as scary as you look! Just like your owner, isn’t that right.”

Geralt frowned. He knew he was frightening, there was no sense in denying it. He had frightened nearly every human he came across, at least in some small way. But even since Jaskier had realized he was a witcher, Geralt hadn’t smelled fear on him. Only just now, when he’d met Roach.

Again, he understood Jaskier less than before.

Geralt stepped back wordlessly and allowed Jaskier to step further into the apartment. He pulled out one of the balls tucked into the pile of toys in his arm and threw it further into the living room, and Roach excitedly ran after it, plopping down to chew on it next to her well-loved gray bed.

Jaskier followed, moving through the room like the breeze, before sitting on the couch, kicking his shoes off, and shoving his feet between the cushions.

“So! Where should we begin! Tales of your early days, your first forays with beasts? Your most recent victories? Epic quests?”

Geralt stared at Jaskier, an eye twitching. “Don’t— what are you doing?”

“Well, I figured we’d be here a while, might as well get comfortable!”

“On a stranger’s couch. A witcher’s couch.”

“On my new, good friend Geralt-The-Witcher’s couch! We’re hardly neighbors, we’re strangers! Wait, no, sorry, hardly strangers, we’re— where are you going?”

Geralt had turned and walked to his bedroom. He quietly shut the door behind him, walked to his bed, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it. He was good at controlling his emotions. He barely had them, after all, that’s what they said about witchers. But this man, this self-proclaimed friend was driving him to madness, and it had only been four days in the building. He briefly considered moving, abandoning the apartment entirely, giving it to someone else. Or perhaps throwing this Jaskier out the window. But none of those were worth the time, or the inevitable paperwork. He could kick Jaskier out, but he’d come back, he knew he would.

It was best to just be boring. Just be boring, refuse to tell the good stories, and tell the boring ones he did have, badly. Jaskier would get tired of it, take what he got, and discover there was nothing interesting or worth telling about witches. Who would want to hear songs about him, anyway? Humans, in large part, still thought witchers were monsters. It had gotten better the past few decades, but… not much.

He took a deep breath and pulled the over-worn pillow away from his face. Time to just get it over with, he supposed. Another deep breath and he returned to the living room, where Jaskier had pulled out a pad of paper, several pens, his guitar, a small bag of what looked to be popcorn, and three notebooks that looked completely filled already. Jaskier whipped around to see him and gave a big, toothy smile.

He was doing this, Geralt thought, just to get the writer out of his hair. No more, no less. It had absolutely nothing to do with anything else.

“Geralt! I am perfectly ready, and if you can’t think of where to start I have dozens of questions for you. Hundreds, really, so don’t worry about it at all! Sit down, sit down.”

“This is my house,” Geralt said, grabbing the only other chair and sitting a ways from Jaskier, “I should be inviting you to take a seat.”

“Well, that might be the case if you were an experienced host, but I get the feeling it’s not really your forte. Alright, ready to begin?”

“Did you notice how I didn’t invite you to take a seat?”

“I did, actually! Again, I can tell you’re not a natural at the hosting thing. Not to worry, I’m plenty comfortable now.” There was a glint in his eye that told Geralt he knew exactly what he was doing.

Geralt sighed, and fought off the thought that Jaskier was very, very lucky he was pretty.

A few hours later, Jaskier had gathered up his things, ready to head out. “Don’t worry, Geralt, you were plenty helpful. And our next session we will absolutely get to some… even more interesting stories, I’m sure we’ve only just barely scratched the surface.”

“What.”

Geralt had been as boring as he could possibly manage, giving only the barest of details. Jaskier had still seemed intrigued, still prodded. His eyes had been full of life and wonder at the smallest details, he’d taken fervent notes, he’d looked like an oil painting when the sun had begun to set and cast him in vibrant golds, showing off the warmth in his cheeks and the well-hidden but sharp lines of his body. This had nearly killed Geralt. And now Jaskier wanted to do it again?!

“Yes, of course, I’ll need to do some writing and then come back to you for more— really, I think I should just accompany you on your next contract, I think I’d get much more out of it— not to say you didn’t do wonderfully, dear, but I can hardly imagine that anything compares to the real thing.”

“No. Too dangerous.”

“I can keep out of the way!” Jaskier said, hefting the guitar case onto his back.

“You can’t, you won’t it wouldn’t matter if you could. No.”

“Oh, I’ll wear you down.” Geralt was deeply afraid that this was correct. “Gods, I should probably eat. What time is it? It’s not Thursday, is it? Is it Tuesday? Oh, I wonder if Posada’s is doing their wings night tonight. You’ve had them, right?” Geralt stared back blankly. “Geralt. Ohhhhh, Geralt, you cannot tell me you haven’t had Posada’s wings yet.” Geralt raised a single eyebrow.

“I’ve been here four days.”

“And what have you eaten!”

“…Food?” The real answer was anything that took less than 15 minutes to prepare, cook, and eat, but he wasn’t about to say that, was he? That’s not a thing you say to people.

“Ohhh, no, Geralt. No no no.” Jaskier shrugged off his Guitar case and whipped out his phone. “No, this is my treat. Oh fuck, it’s Thurs—no, nope, sorry, saw the T and got worried. It is in fact Tuesday, and it’s 7pm so we’re in the clear; we are in fact doing Posada’s wings deal. This is half the reason rent on this place is worth it— not that you have to worry about that. I mean, neither do I but, whatever. Sit down, I’ll order now. Wait, no, you get the plates, I’ll order, okay.”

Geralt stared blankly at Jaskier as he bustled through the apartment, around the unopened boxes and suitcases, the few pieces of furniture, all while on his phone, ordering takeout for the both of them. He seemed to be a natural at almost everything— except talking, somehow, which didn’t give Geralt much hope for his lyricism. But he flowed through the apartment like water, the lilt of his voice carried through the air like honeysuckle on a breeze.

(If you asked Geralt how Jaskier had managed to stay at his apartment from 1 in the afternoon until 10:30 in the evening, Geralt wouldn’t be able to tell you. It involved some toys for Roach, some terrible storytelling, and a wing deal that seemed like it should be financially devastating for Posada’s. And if you asked him at what point Jaskier had started feeling like, well, maybe one of the better things in his life, he would deny it was so early as a mere few days after they met.

He’d be lying, but he likely wouldn’t quite realize that.)

——

Contracts weren’t especially plentiful in the early spring like they had been in years past, but the ones that did crop up were often fairly big. Such was the one Geralt happened to find on a walk with Roach, a week later on a billboard outside the largest park in the city.

A Griffin’s nest. He could probably relocate them, if he had help. He didn’t like killing monsters when he could avoid it— and griffins weren’t horribly dangerous when left well enough alone. It wasn’t their fault society had branched outwards, into their natural habitats. They shouldn’t have to pay for the mistakes of humans.

Besides, he understood monsters more than people, half the time.

So, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the flyer. The chat was used so infrequently that he didn’t even bother to scroll for it, he just typed in the names with one hand, the other busy wrapped Roach’s leash. Slowly, the names appeared. ESKEL, LAMBERT, COËN.

He sends the picture with a short message; ‘Anyone in, or am I doing this myself’ before tucking the phone back in his pocket. Geralt had learned years ago to keep his phone on Do Not Disturb when on walks with Roach; it was his quiet time. If he didn’t have his walks with Roach, he would lose his mind. When he arrived back at the building, he checked the phone in the elevator.

24 Messages from GETTING LIT WITH CITY WITCHERS

Coën – Just now

I don’t think that’s how flamethrowers work??

And before he could even open up the messages, another notification popped up as he stepped out of the elevator;

25 Messages from GETTING LIT WITH CITY WITCHERS

Lambert – Just now

Fine ruin my dreams fuck

He smirked and put it away to let himself and Roach into the apartment. A turn of the key and he let go of the leash, Roach pushing the door open and bolting for the couch, rolling all over the orange cushions. Before Geralt stepped in, he heard the sound of music fluttering up from the second floor; this time, Jaskier was writing a new song, getting stuck on different chords and changing his idea on the words every few seconds. The stop and go nature of it should have bothered him, having to hear someone all the way from the second floor should bother him (why did Jaskier insist on having the windows constantly opened??) but instead, he found it… pleasant.

That could not possibly be good.

——

When the four returned back from the contract, they were bruised, had splinters in truly unspeakable places, and were covered in grime. But, four griffin eggs successfully relocated, a mother griffin tolerant of her new home, and a decent paycheck to split amongst the four of them. Roach, dirtiest of all of them, ran into the apartment first and rolled around on the cool tile of the kitchen. At least it wasn’t on the couch, Geralt supposed, as he led in his fellow witchers. His apartment had been the closest when they’d returned to the city, and he’d agreed to let them all crash.

“Geralt holy fuck,” Lambert said, sounding incredulous as he began to shed his armor. “This is ridiculous! I know you saved the landlord, but shirts, did you show him a good time too?! This is unbelievable.”

“Damn, Geralt. You did good,” Eskel agreed with a pat on his younger brother’s back.

“It’s really nice. You could use some… decoration, though,” Coën added. “Just, you know. Anything on the walls. Pictures, posters, something.”

“I just moved in. Do you guys want coffee?”

The three groaned, and Lambert flopped on the couch, sufficiently de-armored. “I want to sleep for a hundred years, Geralt. No I don’t want fucking coffee.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, and put up a pot.

“It’s 11pm,” Coën said blankly. “Do Wolves not sleep? Is this a thing? I thought it was only Cats who didn’t sleep.”

Lambert shifted carefully onto his side. His next words were said almost in rote, as though he’d heard someone else say them a thousand times before. “Cats sleep pretty soundly, they just don’t do it at night. They have better things to do."

Coën shrugged and headed for the bathroom, but Eskel and Geralt sent each other a look. Eskel’s eyes squinted a bit, and they slowly turned to look at Lambert, motionless on the couch. There was a long moment of silence, as they just stared at the youngest wolf.

“Where’d you learn that one, lil Lamb?” Eskel asked carefully. Geralt caught a whiff of anxiety emanating off his younger brother for a moment.

“What? Oh. Uh, yeah, I met a Cat. So what?” He turned to look at his brothers, and he frowned. “Hey! So what?! You have something to say?! I can make friends!”

“You get this defensive about all your friends?”

“Geralt I will throw your couch out the fucking window, I swear to God.”

“What’s your new pal’s name?” Eskel asked. “This buddy of yours. Your chum.”

“I fucking hate you both!” Lambert shouted, and buried his face in a pillow.

With the coffee done, Geralt poured himself a mug and sat down at the kitchen bar, watching Lambert toss around on the couch. Eskel settled into one of Geralt’s only other chairs, and sat back.

“Are you gonna tell us about him?”

“…I need to be fucked up for that,” Lambert muttered. Geralt gave a gesture with his head to Eskel, who rose and opened a cabinet in the closet to reveal two bottles of White Gull. Eskel barked a laugh.

Lambert groaned and let his head fall back against the cushion once more. “Fucking hate you guys. Give me one of those.”

x

This was not the first time the halls were muddy.

Over the past two and a half weeks, the floor of the lobby had often been tracked with mud. She had tried to ignore this. The annoying musician, (her mortal enemy on the second floor), had been particularly stuck on some new song that was both uninspired and going nowhere. She had tried to ignore this, as well. She’d ignored Jane on the fourth floor’s delivery fiasco, and the fact that Eiman from floor 6’s fire alarm had gone off in the middle of some careful brewing she’d been doing. She had even tried to ignore the barks of a large dog from the new tenant in what was supposed to be a strictly no-dog apartment building.

(It wasn’t that she cared about the rules, she couldn’t give a shit about rules. She just hated them being broken when it inconvenienced her.)

What she could not ignore, however, what had pushed her decidedly past her breaking point, was what sounded like a heard of grown men who had trampled through the lobby, made their way up the stairs, undoubtedly coating it with mud, and were now somewhere several floors below her, all the windows thrown open, one of them lamenting about some man who he was infatuated with.

It wasn’t even good gossip. It had stopped being good gossip an hour ago, when he’d become so drunk he’d just started repeating the same things about this man— Adam, or Adrien, or Aiden, or something like that— over and over and over again.

And they were doing all of this past quiet hours. Did she have insulated, noise cancelling windows, yes. Did she herself enjoy a good night in with friends, or even a party, sometimes past quiet hours? Of course. Had she occasionally made a mess in the lobby? Possibly.

But she’d cleaned up, taken responsibility, and not made it everyone else’s problem at 2am on a Wednesday night when she’d very much like to have the windows open for a fucking breeze.

This, Yennefer thought, was not what she paid rent on a Penthouse for.

She groaned, checked her phone, and turned her bedside light on with a wave of her hand. Hadn’t anyone told these poor bastards about the witch who lived in the Penthouse? She stared at the hour again; it was 2:06am. Did she want to deal with this now? Or did she want to save raining down unholy terror for a reasonable hour, and instead capitalize on time differences.

It wasn’t a difficult decision. She pressed a few buttons, and her video chat call began to ring. A few moments later, a smiling but confused looking Anica lit up her phone, adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Yennefer! It’s lovely to hear from you but… what time is it there?”

She groaned. “2am. Don’t remind me. New neighbors suck. Tell me something fun you’re working on.”

Anica smiled. “Oh, if you want something fun, you’ve come at exactly the right moment. This week Sabrina’s here, and we’re working on a warding charm against fungi in gardens— I figure we could likely scale it up to fields, but I want to have things worked out just right before we move on….”

Yennefer smiled as her friend went on, and tried not to wince every time she heard a faint wail come from several floors beneath her.

x

“And— he sucks. Like, he’s fucking. Sly, and cocky and shit. Where does he get off being all—” 3 hours after he had begun, the deeply drunken Lambert was still talking, gesturing wildly in front of them. “—You know?! It’s no v’y thoughtful.” He drifted into silence once more, while Coën, Eskel, and Geralt just nodded. Most of what that had gathered was that Lambert’s overwhelming crush on this mysterious Cat Witcher, Aiden, had hit him like a truck a year or so back and he still hadn’t made a move. Which meant he was serious about this one.

Coën opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. There wasn’t much to say— Lambert was a goner. He hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet, so far as Geralt could tell from the rise and fall of his chest, but he was getting there. Eskel slowly began to stand up and collect the empty bottle of White Gull they’d finished. Suddenly, Lambert’s eyes flew open, and he careened forward, arms waving wildly. “AND HIS HAIR?! I fucking hate him! He’s awful. He’s so fucking hot and I hate everything. He sucks. How do I get him to sleep with me?!”

Eskel sat down again with a sigh.

x

“Wait. Geralt, you went on a contract without me?! After I specifically asked to go?! Geralt!” Jaskier huffed, his tub of sesame chicken nearly spilling. The nature documentary in front of them hummed along, though neither payed it much mind. They never did, really.

“Griffin nests are too dangerous,” Geralt said around a bite of noodles. Jaskier’s presence in his life could be described with many negative adjectives, but he had to admit, he was better fed when the musician was around. “Besides, that was two weeks ago now. You’re behind.”

“All the more offensive that I’m just hearing about it now!”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “You going to come watch me deal with these Wyverns, or not?” He might as well just let Jaskier tag along for something small. Maybe he wouldn’t be a disaster, and then he’d stop pestering Geralt for stories he didn’t want to tell, much less be broadcast to the entire world. Unfortunately, he was beginning to admit to himself that he rather enjoyed Jaskier’s company, but that was all the more reason to cut him out of his life, wasn’t it? He was too big of a liability.

Jaskier had started helping to brighten up Geralt’s apartment, both figuratively and literally. There were now some framed pictures on the wall, as well bright takeout menus (“At least it’s something, Geralt, you need color in your life!”) and even a plant hanging by the window, which was thankfully fake. When Jaskier was around, everything seemed to fit well enough.

When he wasn’t though, the living room was discordant, this wall decor was now big and bold in places and nothing matched, and very few things were things he’d pick out himself. When he saw it in the mornings, he often sighed and shook his head, and tried not to think about it too much, or who had put it there.

He tried really quite hard not to think about Jaskier very much at all, but he was over nearly every day now. It was hard not to.

If Geralt had also finally bought himself a sturdy bedframe, bedside tables, and good sheets for himself, well, that had nothing to do with Jaskier at all. It’s not like Jaskier would ever see it, after all.

“Fine,” Jaskier replied after some internal debate, “But I want to see griffins, someday.”

“Mmm. Look them up, if you’re so keen on seeing one.”

“It’s not the same! Do you think it’s the same?! Ugh.”

“So, you’re coming?”

“Of course I’m coming! What sort of question is that? When do we leave? What should I bring? Ooo, what do I wear?!”

Geralt sighed deeply. “Don’t wear anything baggy, or bright, or anything that will make much sound. Don’t bring anything. Your phone, but only for if you get lost. Do NOT get lost. We leave here tomorrow at 5am.”

Jaskier choked on a piece of chicken. “Five a— Geralt, we cannot possibly leave here at 5am. Why! God, the things I do for music. How non-vibrant do my clothes have to be? Does a sort of forest-y green work? Do I have to wear camouflage? Please say no. You’re already severely limiting my wardrobe options, please don’t also make me commit fashion crimes.”

“Jaskier, you’re not going anywhere where you have to… impress people. You’re watching me catch, tag, and release a wyvern outside the city. That’s it.”

“I think the Wyverns deserve a good outfit! Besides, this is my first hunt! Our first big outing! I want to mark the occasion, but you and your rules prevent me. Frankly, I’m hurt.”

“Would you rather get eaten?”

“At least I’d leave a handsome corpse!” Geralt chuckled, and took a swig of beer as Jaskier swallowed thickly and continued. “But, ah, no, I’d really prefer to avoid death and injury as much as possible. Really. Truly. Not a masochist. Which surprises some people, weirdly. Do I give off a vibe? Geralt, do I give off vibes? I don’t give off any vibes, right?”

The biggest benefit of having Jaskier around, Geralt found, was that he could tease to his heart’s content, and Jaskier wouldn’t realize until Geralt had gotten a good laugh out of it.

Geralt nodded. “I can see that. There are definitely vibes.”

Jaskier gaped, and then stuttered in response. “I—you—no! That’s—there is no way—how—and what do—what’s—abs—there—I—you—that is not—!”

If Geralt could fight off his smirk a little longer, he’d get to watch Jaskier fumble for at least another minute… and it would take his mind off of trying not to picture Jaskier on his bed, pale skin and dark chest hair fully revealed, arching his back while Geralt indulged him in some fictional, masochistic tendencies. No, couldn’t think about that. Not realistic, anyway.

And then the image flipped, now with Jaskier above him, gazing down lovingly, raking his nails against Geralt’s exposed chest…

“I—the—Geralt! I thought we were friends!!”

Geralt shook it off. Not realistic.

——

The contract was supposed to be for the removal of a particularly pesky wyvern, who’d made a habit of sleeping on the top of a high rise on the other side of town, occasionally swooping down on unsuspecting residents on their balconies. Recently, it’d nabbed a little girl’s doll, which shouldn’t have tugged on his heartstrings, but after Ciri had come into his life, all bets were off. So, a nasty wyvern, somewhere it shouldn’t, who needed to be returned to a suitable habitat and tagged for tracking purposes. It had happened before, there was nothing suspicious about the contract.

Unfortunately, things were rarely so cut and dry in Geralt’s world.

It was 7 o’clock before Geralt and Jaskier finally dragged themselves back to their building; muddy, grimy and tracking it all through the lobby. Geralt’s chest was somehow still sore from being thwacked by a steel baseball bat. The contract had been a sham, and he and Jaskier had been… detained, Geralt would say, kidnapped being too strong a word, by some idiots who wanted to prove they could best a witcher. He’d hoped they’d mostly left violent displays of superiority back a few decades ago, but humans never failed to live up to the worst of themselves, he thought bitterly.

If they woke up from their concussions, hanging upside down from some pipes in the basement they’d chosen for their assault, Geralt was fairly sure they wouldn’t bother with witchers again.

“So, this was a less dangerous one, mm?” Jaskier asked groggily as they piled into the elevator. “Wanna come to mine? I feel like I’m five minutes from sleep.”

Geralt shrugged. He hadn’t actually seen Jaskier’s apartment. Not that he wanted to, of course. Jaskier mashed his finger into the button for the second floor, swaying on his feet. He slumped against one of the walls and let his eyes fall closed, and Geralt found it hard not to stare. His dark green shirt was ripped, exposing some pale skin and shallow cuts and bruises he’d received. His pants were filthy, and his face was still covered in grime, while bits of his hair stuck out at odd angles. Small prices to pay for making it out alive.

In fact, Jaskier had put up much more of a fight than he’d been expecting. He wasn’t a trained fighter by any means but he’d made himself more than useful. Geralt might not have made it out without his quick thinking—a phone flashlight to the eyes of their assailants, a kick to the back of the knee of another, biting the wrist of a third when it shot past his face, as he had lunged for Geralt. Jaskier had been damn near feral. Adrenaline, Geralt supposed. Hell of a drug.

Witchers felt adrenaline too, though it was different. Similar enough, though, that he was sure his overwhelming fear of seeing Jaskier hurt, how he’d screamed at their captors to let Jaskier go, how he’d been a second away from ending them in retaliation before he’d realized how far he’d gone, yes, he was sure that all of that was nothing more than adrenaline. Even if it had only kicked in when he realized Jaskier was in danger, rather than just himself, rather than when they’d spat obscenities at him. It had been when Jaskier had spat at them, called them bastards, and earned a kick in the stomach for it.

The elevator was silent as the doors slid shut.

“Do people always look at you like that?”

“You mean with a dagger in their hands?”

Jaskier frowned, chin still tipped toward the sky, arms folded close to his chest, eye lazily shut.

“No. I figure you wouldn’t have brought me, if that happened very often. But they were so…” he shook his head. “They were fucking hateful. They were monsters.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Monsters chasing a monster.”

“No, you’re not. Hey. Geralt. No, you’re not.” Jaskier had opened his eyes and waited Geralt to meet them. The witcher looked away as the doors slid open. “You’re not a fucking monster, I don’t care what they say. I know you by now.”

“Just open the door.”

Jaskier sighed and shuffled over to his door, opening it after a bit of a fumble with the keys.

The layout of his apartment was different, Geralt noticed—the front door let out into the living room, not the kitchen, and his bathroom was on the left, not the right. It seemed like there was only one bedroom, and his main window looked out over the cityscape. But it was, predictably, the décor that stood out the most.

Jaskier had lined his ceiling molding with little lights, and as they entered, they flicked on, drifting smoothly between all colors of the rainbow. The place itself was messy, notebooks strewn about everywhere, cords coming out of various outlets without rhyme or reason, cups and plates scattered about. Geralt spotted what he thought might have been pants in one corner, but he chose not to look so hard. Jaskier flicked on the light switch, and Geralt could see how bright and colorful Jaskier had made his home—it worked somehow, though it seemed as though if a single piece were removed it would look wrong, somehow.

His instruments all looked remarkably well-kept, though. They hung on the wall in specialized mounts; two guitars, a violin, some other string instruments Geralt didn’t recognize. There was a small black case maybe holding a wind instrument sitting next to a rather impressive-looking keyboard, and the table where they sat was the only tidy area in the apartment, so far as he could see. Of course, he hadn’t seen Jaskier’s bedroom. Yet. Not that he would want to, of course. Or ever have cause to.

Jaskier plopped down on a vibrant green velvet chair and waved one hand at the room, the other covering his eyes. “Sorry for the mess. You can sit anywhere. Oh, wait, there’s cider in the fridge, would you mind? Second shelf. And don’t laugh at me for drinking cider.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I know it’s too sweet. I get it. But if you drink beer or wine every night it gets boring. And if I ever grew bored of alcohol, I’d be devastated.”

“Won’t disagree with you,” Geralt muttered as he returned to the living room with a 6-pack. He sat down on the couch and opened the bottles, handing one to Jaskier. They drank in silence, and Geralt tried to get comfortable on the overly plush blue couch.

“Sorry you got dragged in—”

“No, no, stop that. I asked to come. Specifically. You had no way of knowing. Besides, I’d rather be with you to deal with that, instead of you… oh, disappearing to your apartment for days and not answering me.”

Mm. He’d done that, once or twice. Maybe three times. “Sorry.”

“Geralt. It’s fine. It’s their fault. You did nothing wrong, you were just trying to help.”

“Mm.”

They drank in silence for a bit. The cider was, in fact, too sweet, but it suited Jaskier. Geralt find he didn’t mind it much as he should have. He tried not to think of kissing it off his lips.

Jaskier gave a snort in the silence. Geralt looked over and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, it’s just—got any other enemies I should know about?”

Geralt smiled and leaned back. “Mm. A few. Lot of humans.”

“Right, just, in general. Alright, so just ‘most humans’, got it. Next?”

“Monsters. Don’t know why, they just don’t like me.”

Jaskier laughed. “How unfair of them! They ought to give you a chance. Anyone else?”

“Mmm… some other witchers. None from my school, though. Definitely some mages.”

“Oh, fuck mages,” Jaskier said.

“Don’t fuck mages,” Geralt teased, “It won’t end well.”

“Ugh. Trust me, I know.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows until Jaskier looked at him and groaned. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve only done it a few times, and I’ve sworn off them.” He finished his cider and reached for another.

“Do you have any enemies I should know about, Jaskier?”

“Valdo fucking Marx,” Jaskier spat immediately, kicking his legs up on the table. “Garbage. Absolute garbage. Stole my work at Oxenfurt. Deeply fucked up man. I want him dead. Not in a, ‘I’d hire someone to kill him’ way, but in a, ‘if he died in an untimely and horrific way tomorrow, I would spend the weekend celebrating’ way. Shouldn’t say untimely. His death will absolutely timely, whenever it comes. Really, maybe untimely because it’ll be late. Hmph.”

Geralt nodded, kicking his feet up as well. “Anyone else?”

“Mmm, no. Oh! Well, Penthouse Lady, or as I like to call her, The Bitch of the 13th Floor. She’s a mage, you know.”

Geralt stared at Jaskier. “Oh, no, no, don’t think like that. That is decidedly not one of the mages I was speaking about. No, Penthouse Lady is just… I mean, gorgeous, but evil. Extremely, wickedly beautiful, which should be a crime. She will take your clothes out of the washing machine, wet, just because you’ve left them there a bit too long. A minute. 35 seconds, minutes, whatever, really. And if you break one of the building rules and catch her in a bad mood, she will eviscerate you. She’s made people move out before, out of pure terror.”

“But not you?”

“No! No, I’m not leaving. She’s can’t make me. We’ve been mortal enemies for years now, that’s a commitment.”

Geralt laughed. “How do you afford to live here, anyway? You haven’t got a job.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, lowering his cider with a smile, “How dare you. You have no idea. I could be employed. I could have several jobs, you don’t know.”

“Jaskier, I met you at 3pm on a Monday. You come over at all hours of the day. You are rarely doing anything one could describe as ‘work’.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. It’s a… parents thing. And grandparents. Whole family, really. Ever been to Lettenhove?” Geralt thought a bit, and then nodded—it had been awhile. “Yep. That’s us. Earls and whatnot. Technically, I’m a viscount, but I prefer the title ‘Family Disappointment’. More accurate.”

Geralt pushed Jaskier’s foot with his own. “Stop that.”

“No, it’s not—it’s not a bad thing, to disappoint those people. You know? If I’m disappointing them, I’m doing something right. Besides, they keep throwing money at me in hopes that it’ll change something. Which, you know. I’ll take it.” They sat quietly for a moment. “I have been published, to be fair. And I do go out to sing at bars on Thursdays and Saturdays. I have some followers on Spotify, TikTok and what have you. I’m not nothing. It’s just not up to their standards. ‘S why I have a pen name in the first place.”

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked, and his friend nodded. “It’s a good name.”

“Why thank you.” There was quiet for a moment. “You know what they named me? Julian Alfred Pankratz. What a name. That’s the thing, with them, and their traditions—I’ve got two other people’s names, and none of my own. ‘S why I picked one for myself.”

“Mm,” Geralt said softly. Jaskier hadn’t ever said much about himself, now that he thought of it. Might as well take the plunge. “Don’t know what my surname was. Just have Geralt. Witchers are left to their schools and made to pick their own names. Picked Rivia out of a hat, essentially.”

Jaskier looked at him oddly, before raising his bottle. “To families that don’t know what they’re missing,” he said softly, and Geralt clinked their bottles together, the sound short and sweet.

——

A few hours and ciders later, Jaskier had slipped asleep, chest rising and falling gently. It hadn’t been a hard call for Geralt to make; he’d slipped Jaskier’s shoes off and carried him to his bedroom, laying him down on the bed, maneuvering him under the sheets. The bedroom was subtler than his living room—a cream color, beautiful loose paintings and sketches on the walls of flowers, hung up with tape, and dozens of pictures; some framed, some loose polaroids hanging on strings, all of friends and places he must have travelled. His oval mirror had sticky notes around the edges—what looked like scraps of songs, chord progressions, passwords, dates to remember, and a small note of encouragement to himself— ‘Keep Going!!’

Geralt smiled, found an unused sticky note, and grabbed a pen. When he was done, he smiled to himself, and put it just below the ‘Keep Going’ note.

After leaving a glass of water on his bedside table, Geralt slipped out of Jaskier’s apartment taking the elevator up. When the doors slid closed, he took out his phone.

4 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT A DATE (ES….)

Lambert – 48 minutes ago

God, this shit should NOT be so hard.

To: CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT A DATE (ESKEL, LAMBERT, COËN)

Message: yeah, I feel you

He slipped it away, and hoped nobody would question it in the morning.

x

Yennefer stretched, sun hitting her eyes, and sucked in a lungful of the breeze coming through the window. It was… nice. Pleasant.

Boring.

She took out her phone.

To: Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Message: Who wants to go clubbing this weekend. I’m bored. Also Sabrina I know you’re 200 miles away w Anica don’t be snarky

She rose and began to stretch, sparing only a glance when her phone dinged.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Sabrina – Just Now

Sure count me in. I’d love that. Woohoo

She rolled her eyes and smiled, ignoring that her friend should absolutely still be asleep, given the time difference.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Coral Lytta– Just Now

I’m down for a barhop at least but only if we’re coordinating outfits I’m begging you I don’t want a repeat of last month!!

Yennefer finished her stretches and flicked her hand to start the coffee pot in the kitchen. She needed a change of pace. Things had gotten too predictable. Maybe she’d take someone home, that would be fun. She checked her phone again.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Fringilla – 7 minutes ago

Why is anyone awake??? Go back to sleep

To: Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Message: Frin it’s 7am. This is a normal hour.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Fringilla – Just Now

Not on my day off it’s not

She sighed. Okay, maybe they wouldn’t end up clubbing, not given everyone’s moods this week. But at least she’d get out of the apartment, and maybe get someone else into bed.

x

9:37am

Thursday, March 12th

2 Messages from Jaskier

Just now

Oh, and the note, I’m just seeing this now. “Reminder: Don’t Fuck Mages.” Thanks, Geralt, what would I do without you? My witcher in… slightly muddy armor, last I checked. ;)

7 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT A DATE

Eskel – 19 minutes ago

“YEAH I FEEL YOU??” GERALT????? (sent with Echo)

NEWS

New Novigrad Times – 2 hours ago

Three men suspected of breaking and entering, larceny, and assault found suspended upside-down in a residential downtown building. This story is will be updated as new information is revealed.

14 more notifications

x

The next afternoon, he heard it while on a walk with Roach, and tried to brush it off. A voice sounding suspiciously like Jaskier’s was emanating from some teenager’s cell phone. “Oh Valley of Plenty, Oh-” the voice sang, before he tuned it out. It was deeply unlikely it was Jaskier. Something in seeing him asleep a few nights before must have poisoned Geralt’s brain.

He heard snatches of it, though, everywhere he went.

Toss a—

They came after me , with masterful—

Brings you to mourn—

That’s my epic tale—

It drove him mad, but he shook it off every time. What was the likelihood of it being Jaskier, anyway?

It’s in the lobby, where he realized. The doorman, Sonny, was swiping through his phone as Geralt checked his mailbox. When he turned back around—

With Geralt of Rivia, along came this song…

Geralt grimaced. “Fuck.”

When he returned to his apartment, he found a sticky note waiting on the door for him.

If you track mud into this building one more

time, I will make you kneel and fix it yourself.

All the best, ~Penthouse.

x

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Coral Lytta – 17 minutes ago

Yen! Isn’t this your ~enemy~??? That guy from the second floor who takes like 3 hours with laundry?? http://vm.tiktok…

——

Jaskier -- 15 minutes ago

So. I may have gone viral,

——

To: Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Message: How the hell does this have 700 thousand likes already? It was only posted today

——

Jaskier -- 5 minutes ago

This is a good thing though, right??? Is this the wrong time to invite you to see me perform tomorrow night

Ciri -- Just Now

Hey uh??? Dad??? I think someone wrote a song about you???

——

Anica -- Just Now

Yennefer, I am so so sorry, but I already have it stuck in my head. I’ve only watched it twice now I swear

——

8 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT (AND GERALT) DATES

Lambert – 1 minute ago

Literally how the fuck does this happen to you

Jaskier -- Just Now

Hey that rhymed!!

x

Jaskier had told him not to stress about what to wear, that he could just ‘sit in the corner and brood’ and that ‘nobody would recognize him’, but nothing about this felt like a good idea to Geralt. Is this what having friends was? Going to places he didn’t want to be, at times he didn’t want to be there, just to make someone else happy? It was terrible, and frankly, he wanted a refund.

Geralt slipped into the bar a few hours before Jaskier was slated to go on—just to get a booth decently near the stage where nobody would bother him. He didn’t care about seeing Jaskier warm up. He was on stage, tuning his instrument that wasn’t quite a guitar—either a mandolin or a lute, Geralt thought. He was listening for something, adjusting things, getting a feel of the space. His brows were furrowed and he looked to be deep in thought. Not wanting to bother him, Geralt bought whatever was on tap (some earthy beer he would tolerate for the evening) and slipped into a booth near the stage, far enough out of the light so that he wouldn’t be noticed easily by people.

He sat, watching Jaskier, letting his eyes wander down his teal and red ensemble. The pants were a tight fit, but the shirt was airy, unbuttoned a bit more than might be decent, and Geralt found himself mentally unbuttoning more, and more, and more, until his eyes flashed up and made contact with Jaskier’s.

The musician lit up like the sun, a wide beaming smile, and he quickly hopped down from the stage. “Geralt! You made it! And early, too! Oh, I’m so glad. Okay, I’m 3rd up, so you will have to sit through some other people, but not too many. I’ll join you when I’m done! You’ll enjoy it. Well, I don’t think you’ll love it, but you’ll probably tolerate it for your dear dear friend, who is slowly but surely making you famous. Right? Okay!”

“You’ll be fine,” Geralt said. He knew Jaskier’s nervous energy speeches by now.

“What? Oh.” Some tension in Jaskier’s shoulders loosened. “Thank you. I just haven’t been on a stage since suddenly so many people know my face. I did post about this, but I don’t think very many people will come. Maybe I shouldn’t have? I dunno. Still navigating fame! Alright, I should get back. I’ll see you soon!”

x

“I’m making an executive decision,” Fringilla said, turning on her heel. They’d been walking for 45 minutes, trying to decide on a bar. “We’re going here. We are too damn old to be spending half the night walking around.”

“Fine,” Yennefer relented, taking Coral’s arm, “but if it sucks we’re going out again tomorrow and it’s my pick.”

The three entered the bar, a dimly lit place, mostly wooden and already fairly active with people bustling about, a stage in the back looking ready for a musician.

“Oh, I love live music, yes! You get us a table near the stage and I’ll get the drinks,” Coral said; “Dry Martini and a Whiskey Sour?”

“You know us so well,” Fringilla said, and she and Yennefer left to find a table. They ended up at a booth egregiously close to the stage, in Yennefer’s opinion. They got comfortable, settling in for the night, most likely. Until one of them found someone to go home with, at least.

When Yennefer looked up, it was to a tidal wave of people entering.

It wasn’t to say the place wasn’t busy before, but soon she could barely see the bar, as giddy looking patrons took up tables and booths, and eventually, just whatever standing room they could find. Coral managed to cut through the crowd, levitating the three drinks, looking frazzled. “When did all these people get here?!”

“No idea,” Fringilla said, reaching for her Whiskey Sour, “but I’m glad we’ll at least be able to see.”

“Mm,” Yennefer agreed, grabbing her Martini, raking her eyes over the crown. Options, she thought. It was always so good to have options.

“Any idea who’s performing tonight?” Coral asked. “I couldn’t find a poster or anything that said—probably someone good, for all these people to be here”

“No idea,” Yennefer replied absentmindedly. It’s not like it mattered. She couldn’t imagine herself giving much of a shit about who was on stage, anyway.

x

The first performer was fine. Geralt thought they were a little boring, but they weren’t who he was there to see, anyway. Yennefer couldn’t be bothered, staring instead at a handsome young woman in a low-cut satin dress. When she finally made eye contact, though, she gave a friendly, decidedly not flirtatious smile, and Yennefer moved on.

The second performer, a kind of musical comedian, was pretty good. She capitalized off of the energy in the room, which Geralt had to admit was palpable. As soon as people had flooded in, he’d made a point to look intimidating—much as it had prevented people from sitting at his booth, it hadn’t stopped them from buzzing around the bar, and he realized they must be there for Jaskier. It put a pit in his stomach, but also made something in his chest whizz around in joy. Ah, fuck.

And then, up was Jaskier. The announcer welcomed him on stage, and Jaskier bounced on, to the warmest welcome thus far.

“Gooooood evening everyone, lovely to see you all. And I do mean all. How many people are here? There are at least…” he counted for a moment. “At least 12. Possibly more.” He got a laugh, and winked at someone in the middle of the audience as he sat down on a stool in front of the mic.

“I cannot fucking believe this,” Yennefer groaned quietly. Fringilla patted her on the back. “There, there. Maybe he’ll be terrible.”

Jaskier hummed softly, warming up his voice. No, Yennefer though, he wouldn’t be terrible, because unfortunately, he was quite fucking good.

His first song was another one that had also blown up after his sudden viral-ness of the past week, an original he’d told Geralt he’d written in university, and never stopped being proud of. Geralt smiled into his second drink of the night, enjoying watching Jaskier get comfortable on the stage.

His second song finished to applause and cheers, and Jaskier got up to bow, pushing the stool far behind him with his foot. Yennefer put a fist in her hair. Unfortunately, her mortal enemy was fucking magnetic.

“Freak him out, like you said you do,” Coral whispered to her. Yennefer frowned, but nodded soon after. At least she could make this fun for herself.

Jaskier grabbed the mic and moved it off to the side of the stage, throwing some smiles to people who had their phone out, before stopping and speaking into it when the crowd had quieted a bit.

“Hey,” Jaskier said gently, his voice commanding the bar, as he looked out into the crowd. He found Geralt’s face, and beamed at him, before turning back to the sea of people. “Is uh… is anyone here on TikTok?” The crowd cheered and he launched into Toss a Coin, forgoing the stool entirely, choosing to dance around the stage.

To Geralt’s complete mortification, at the top of the first chorus Jaskier suddenly pointed to him. “Toss a coin to your witcher, Oh valley of plenty, oh!”

By the third chorus, Geralt had been sufficiently pummeled with coins, bills, and what looked like a gift card to a café, when Jaskier tipped back his head to the other side of the stage. Yennefer was sitting back, arms folded, a single eyebrow raised, flanked by Fringilla and Coral on either side, looking expectant of the musician, mimicking their friend’s pose. Yennefer thought she was fighting off her smirk, but it was hard to say. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, brief moment his smile faltered, before he let out a cackle, continuing to play. The audience ate out of his hand, and he seemed to grow more and more at ease, preening at the attention.

“It was worth a shot,” Fringilla said with a huff of laughter and a shake of her head, returning to her glass. “He’s really got something, hate to admit.”

When the song finished, he took a deep bow to riotous applause and caught a coin someone threw to him, tucking it in his pocket.

Behind him, a witcher and a mage made eye contact for the first time; gold met violet, and the air between them seemed to electrify.

“I think we’re on our own for tonight, Coral,” Fringilla said with eyebrows raised, watching her friend stare across the room, and Coral giggled in response. Yennefer made a point to use a fraction of her chaos to stir her martini from afar, so this man knew what he might be getting into.

“Thank you, thank you all. I think we have time for one more quick song. And I do hope you’ll give our next artist after the break the same amount of attention, as a personal favor to me,” Jaskier said, getting some laughs, and tuned his instrument for a moment before speaking again. “You’ve been a dream. Really, truly, thank you. I fully expect this kind of turn out every week, though, so cancel all your other Saturday night plans for the next, oh, 7 to 8 years.”

A smattering of laughter again from the audience, and then Jaskier was starting Fishmonger's Daughter, a song Geralt had deemed dirty enough to ignore the lyrics of. He looked away from the woman, clearly a mage, across the stage from him—she was gorgeous, long black hair and bright violet eyes. She was flanked by two other women in similar deep velvet dresses—the first a rosy pink, the third a midnight blue, while the woman’s he’d locked eyes with was pitch black, matching a choker around her neck. She tilted her head to expose more soft tan skin, examining him from afar as she stirred her drink with magic, graceful and languid.

Do not fuck mages. Do not fuck mages. Do not fuck mages.

He sat back in his chair, and suddenly realized that Jaskier’s set had ended; his friend was bowing, and then disappeared off the stage in favor of the announcer. The bar was buzzing, people milling around, and then Jaskier, blue eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed, smile stretched from ear to ear, was sitting in front of him.

“Geralt! Was it good? Give me your thoughts.”

“Not bad,” Geralt said with a smile, and a pat on his friend’s shoulder. Was it too much? He gave it a small squeeze, and something small in Jaskier’s face changed. He looked up and down Geralt’s face, and suddenly the witcher realized how close they were, that Jaskier was licking his lips, that he hadn’t taken his hand off his shoulder, that the world had disappeared around them. His gaze dropped for a moment to Jaskier’s lips. He could smell arousal, and excitement, and happiness, but he was in a bar, there was too much to take in, no way to know for sure it was coming from Jaskier. He held his breath, and met Jaskier’s eyes again.

His phone rang.

They kept staring.

Another ring, and someone tapped on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“I should—you get that, Geralt, I’ll be a moment, just ah, have to say hello to the adoring public, I’ll be back!”

Geralt let his witcher-slow heartbeat a few more times, dazed, before looking down at his phone to see Lambert was calling. He answered, putting a finger in his other ear.

“Geralt!” Lambert hissed. Geralt could barely hear him over the noise of the bar. “Geralt! Have you seen the group chat?!”

“No. Speak louder, I can barely hear you.”

“I can’t! He’s in my apartment, Geralt! What the fuck do I do! He brought booze! He looks fucking fancy!”

Geralt frowned. “Are you on a date?”

“Not that I’m fucking aware of!”

Geralt frowned deeper. “It sounds like you’re on a date.”

“We can’t be on a date! He just asked if I wanted to do dinner! That’s not a date!”

“It can be. Clearly is. Just—take him out somewhere.”

“Fucking WHERE, Geralt!”

“Don’t you have a sushi place around the corner? Do that. Or somewhere else. Doesn’t matter, just wear something decent and go.”

“How the fuck—” Lambert was asking when Geralt hung up. He looked at his phone screen—98 unread messages from the clowns. He shook his head and looked up—Jaskier was peacocking around the bar, flirting with everyone who seemed receptive. He was a natural, winding his way through the crowd, making them all feel special. Someone was buying him a drink, and it looked like he was already part of the way through another. He delighted over everyone, taking selfies, accepting compliments, giving them in return to appreciative and giddy smiles.

That was how Jaskier was, Geralt thought. With everyone. Little moments didn’t necessarily mean anything.

He turned back to look at the sorceress across from him. Her companions had left her, disappearing into the crowd for more drinks, perhaps. She was playing with something on her table, and glanced up to see him staring. She smirked, picked up the small object, and began to levitate it over to him.

Geralt watched as through the crowd, over the stage, the object floated over to him.

When it finally arrived at his table, Geralt watched as a small coin was dropped neatly in front of him, giving a small clink.

He smirked. It was a parlor trick, and barely that, for a mage. But it was intriguing. She was intriguing. And Jaskier was busy being fawned over by fans, so it’s not as though Geralt would be missed. He stood and waded his way through the masses, towering over many of the other patrons, before finally making it to his destination. He held up the coin.

The woman smiled up at him, sly, and spoke before he did. “No need to thank me, just doing as the song requested. Are you so often followed around by… loyal bards?”

He laughed. He hadn’t heard someone use ‘bard’ in decades. “Not until recently. To who do I owe the pleasure?”

“Whom, I think,” she quipped, and offered her hand. “Yennefer.”

“Geralt,” he said, and she laughed as he sat down across from her.

“Yes, I’ve heard as much. The White Wolf. Quite the title.”

“I didn’t pick it myself, I assure you.”

“You don’t seem to mind it all that much.”

“… I suppose not. Better than some of the other titles I haven’t picked.”

“Do you have many of those?”

“Plenty. Couldn’t tell you what most of them were, though. Hard to hear when you’re dodging enemies.”

She titled her head slightly and sat back to let her gaze drag over him. “So, none from lovers, then?”

He smiled again. “Cheeky.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Take it however you’d like.”

“You’re not much for flattering yourself, are you, Geralt.”

“That’s what I’ve got my bard for.”

She laughed, a light thing that he knew would be echoing around his chest for days. She leaned back in, looking around conspiratorially. He leaned in a touch as well, their faces only inches from each other now. “Tell me, Geralt. Are you as noble and chivalrous as that song made you out to be?”

“It flatters me. But I do my best for… those in need.”

“And if I were in need, you would do something for me?”

“I might be able to do that.”

“Well then.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I would be entirely grateful, Geralt… if you get me some apple juice.” He leaned back in confusion, while she pressed the coin he still held further into his hand. “This should cover it.”

When he leaned away, she wore an unmistakably coquettish smile, biting back a laugh. He smiled despite himself, brows furrowed as he looked down at the coin, and back at her, before letting out a small laugh himself.

“Alright. One apple juice, fair mage. I will do my best.”

“Take care on your dangerous voyage!” She called after him, as he slipped into the crowd. She whipped out her phone; the break would be lasting another 15 or so minutes, just enough to play a game on her phone. Whether or not Geralt made it back to his table in time for the next set was none of her concern. Besides, he’d somehow befriended her most recent mortal enemy, so anything that happened tonight would have to be a one-time thing. If anything happened, of course, but Yennefer was not in the habit of letting a good time pass her by.

Things were perfectly right in her world, as she waited for her phone to load, until suddenly someone dressed in frankly garish teal and red was standing before her. She didn’t look up from her phone.

“Ahem?”

She continued looking at her phone. The damn thing wouldn’t load.

“You know, it’s very rude to keep your most reviled enemy waiting.”

It still wouldn’t fucking load. She groaned and put it down. “What do you want, Jaskier?” Her neighbor, grinning widely and holding two glasses of punchy looking drinks, sat down across from her. “No one else hesitated to applaud my wonderful performance except… for you. Come on. You must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him for a moment. “I don’t buy it.”

He frowned. “No, that’s four. What don’t you buy?”

“The song. You expect me to believe you willingly put yourself within 10 miles of danger? You already complain that the second floor is too dangerous for you.”

“It is dangerous, and I sleep there, so it’s different. Really, it did happen, you could ask Geralt. Actually, gods, no, don’t ask Geralt. Don’t talk to him, actually. You’d hate each other, definitely, best stay away.”

“Oh dear. Someone’s already jealous.”

“I am not—!” he squeaked, before leaning in. “I am not jealous, I just don’t need you and your…” he waved a hand at her, “your face-ness scaring him off!”

“My face?”

“Yes! It’s full of… secrets. And… plots. Evil plots!”

“Right. Do you know what your face is full of?”

“Charm? Charisma? An air of mystery?”

She swiftly grabbed one of his drinks and splashed it in his face, while he gaped. She swiped a finger across his cheek and tasted it. “Mmm, no… something fruity. Strawberry?”

“Raspberry,” he corrected. His face dripped. “I had that coming, a bit.”

“Oh, absolutely.” She waved a hand, and the drink was gone—his face, shirt, the table all now dry. “Don’t take that as a kindness. I just don’t want to pay for your dry cleaning.”

“Of course,” he replied, touching his now dry face. “And I don’t want any more battles with you in the laundry genre, if I can help it.” Despite herself, she laughed.

“Ah, I see there is a brain behind those blue eyes after all.”

“You just like seeing me covered in liquid and at your mercy.”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

He sat back in the booth. “You know, if you weren’t utterly terrifying, I could write songs about you as well. I’m sure you’ve got stories. We could make some together.”

“I am the story.”

“See, that’s good! Have you considered abandoning magic and the position of ‘very sexy, very scary witch’, and instead working towards of ‘very sexy, very charming poet’? At least then we’d be competitors in the same field. Same playing ground! Same weapons, which is to say, absolutely no weapons.”

“Mm. And have you considered abandoning your current title of ‘unfortunately charming, unfortunately talented, deeply annoying musician’ and opting instead for ‘very quiet, mildly charming eye candy’? It would suit you more.”

“The day I stop talking is the day I run out of breath.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Dear Ms. Penthouse, I’m sure you’ll be the one to bring it about.”

“Wouldn’t you love to be so lucky. Besides, haven’t you got a wolf in shining armor to protect you?” Just then, a sound went over the loudspeakers. 5 minutes until the end of the break, then.

“Well, much as I’d love to continue this lovely and for me, a frankly sexually confusing chat, I must grab my drinks before our next musicians are on.”

“Take care, then. I’d hate to see you die without getting to be a part of it,” she said, giving him a pat on the arm, her hand lingering as he looked at her for a moment, licking his lips and then hurrying off.

It was only moments before Geralt returned.

“One apple juice,” he said, setting a tall glass in front of her with a straw. Yennefer smiled and pulled it closer to her, taking a sip. “Is it to your liking, fair mage?”

It was quite good, actually. “Acceptable. Thank you, dear witcher, for your services.”

“Any others you’d like to request of me?”

“Mmm… give me the evening to think of one.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be here forever.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll think of something. You just go… sit in the corner and brood.”

He laughed. “You’re not the first one to say that to me tonight.”

“Mm, so you’re completing quests for others? Should I be worried?” She snuck a glance toward the crowd, and Geralt followed her eyes to land on Jaskier, fliting between people, drinking something that this time looked icy and blue. “Just a friend, I hope?”

Geralt turned to look back at her. His face had too many things subtly happening for her to read it well, and after only a moment Fringilla and Coral had returned, beginning to slip into the booth.

“Will you be joining us?” Fringilla asked, but Geralt shook his head.

“I’ve been told to go brood,” he replied, and made his way back to his booth.

——

Geralt did, in his defense, make an attempt to listen to the other performers. Jaskier spent the evening continuing to flirt around the room, hands lingering on him, his own hands gently caressing shoulders and arms. Geralt could tell already he’d be going home alone that night. Well, not alone. Yennefer and he had been sharing glances as the night progressed, and he was fairly certain he knew where that was heading.

He just wouldn’t be going home with Jaskier, who would himself undoubtedly be going home with some fan or other patron. He had his pick of the room, for the most part. Which was good. Geralt knew he sought the praise, the fame. Besides, Jaskier and he had only planned to spend the late night catching up on their weekly nature documentary.

Another man paid for Jaskier’s next drink, a fizzy concoction, and Geralt felt himself give the tiniest hint of a growl.

Eventually, Yennefer’s companions slipped out, and he returned to her booth.

“Do you have a quest for me, then?”

“Mmm. How about, protect me here, until it’s time to leave, and then walk me back to my apartment?”

Geralt nodded. “That, I can do.”

The night pushed onward. After a few performers more, Geralt looked around in between sets and realized he’d lost track of Jaskier entirely. It would be unlike him to not give a heads-up before going home with somebody. Geralt frowned and checked his phone. A few dozen messages from Eskel and Coën, and; one missed call from Jaskier. Shit. He took a deep breath—he could smell his friend in the air, but not quite which direction it came from, not with so many people. Yennefer gave him a look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Missed a call. Hold on.” He pressed the redial and held it to his ear. It rang three times before it picked up. “Jaskier?”

“Mmm. Ger. Ger’lt. Do you wanna go home? With me.”

“You want me to take you home?” He shot an apologetic look at Yennefer.

“Come home with me.”

“Okay, Jaskier. Where are you?”

“Outside.”

“Alright. Be there soon.” Geralt hung up and began to slide out of the booth. “Sorry. He’s had a big night.”

“I could tag along,” Yennefer offered. “And then you’ll have doubly earned your rewards tonight.”

“I—sure, sure,” and they were off, navigating around the bar and out the door. “He doesn’t live that far away,” Geralt began to explain.

“Oh, I know.” Geralt shot her a questioning look as they exited the front door.

——

Jaskier was right there, leaning against the wall. His head ached—he’d had possibly more to drink in this night than he had for the past two weeks combined. It had all caught up with him, and he’d found himself outside, taking deep breaths of fresh air, clutching his lute bag to his chest.

He’d flirted around all night, but nothing, nobody had been worth his time. How was he supposed to focus on anyone when Geralt was right there? Not that he was interested, of course. But he’d come out, he’d come early, just to see Jaskier perform. Well, to be fair, his hit song, (he had one of those now!) was about Geralt, so that was probably why he came. But he wanted to pretend it was just for him. That Geralt had wanted to see Jaskier perform. He was miles out of Jaskier’s league, but oh, could he could absolutely dream some very, very sexy dreams.

And then his mortal enemy had been there, and wasn’t that a treat. She’d looked gorgeous. It was unfair. His building was full of beautiful people, all who only tolerated him, were abysmally out of his league, or would eat him for breakfast, if they had the chance. At least fighting with her gave him the excuse to look at her, talk to her. She’d splashed a drink in his face and he’d needed to slip away to the bathroom when they’d finished talking, just to calm himself down. That was unfair. Don’t fuck mages, he reminded himself. Not that she ever would. He’d had at least 6 more drinks after that, just to push the thought away.

He’d thought he’d been doing a bit better, the past few minutes. But clearly, he wasn’t, as he must have been hallucinating.

Before him stood Geralt (gorgeous, fascinating, generous, kind, warm-hearted Geralt), looking a bit dazed himself, as well as The Bitch of the 13th Floor (intriguing, deadly, witty, beautiful). So, his sexual fantasy that he had not until that moment realized existed.

“Oh dear. I’m worse than I thought.”

“Jaskier, what’s wrong?”

“Too much to drink. Now I’m hallucinating.”

Geralt frowned. “What do you see?”

Jaskier pointed to the woman in front of him and then shut his eyes tightly. “Unless… unless it’s a magic thing.”

“No—Jaskier, this is Yennefer. Yennefer, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s eyes flew open. “You know this woman? Of course you know this woman. So you do have a name!”

“Of course I have a name.”

“I don’t know, maybe mages don’t all have names.”

“You two know each other?”

Jaskier smiled loosely. “That’s my mortal enemy.”

“This is not Valdo Marx.”

“No! Penthouse Lady. Second one.”

“Oh. The Bitch of the 13th Floor.”

“Glad to know I hold a reputation in your circles, Jaskier,” she said lightly. “Though I’m a touch offended I’m only number 2.”

He frowned, and reached out for her arm, and held it lightly, then did the same with Geralt.

“Oh fuck. You are both here.”

“Right. Let’s get you back home.” Carefully, Geralt lifted Jaskier’s arm over his shoulders, and the three began to walk, Yennefer on his other side. They went to walk before he stopped, pulling Jaskier’s arm off him, and bent down.

“What are you--?”

“Your shoe strap is undone,” Geralt explained, before flashing a grin up at her. “I suppose this isn’t what you meant when you told me to kneel.”

“As I recall, I haven’t asked you to do that yet. I was saving it for the bedroom.”

Geralt finished with her shoe and then rose up, and they began walking. “The sticky note. ‘I will make you kneel and fix it yourself’?”

“…You’re the new tenant?! You’re the muddy bastard?!”

“Wait, you two were going to have sex?!” Jaskier whined.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”

“I thought it was ‘Don’t fuck mages’, not ‘Don’t fuck mages unless they’re really hot, then that’s the exception’!”

“I can’t believe this,” Yennefer said. Her world fell apart and clicked into place all at once as they crossed the street. “Oh my god.”

“Did you not know?”

“Of course I didn’t know! You didn’t say how you knew him!”

“Well, there it is,” Geralt sighed. “And Jaskier, don’t just to conclusions, I wouldn’t presume that of her. All I did was buy her apple juice.”

“Now what kind of metaphor is that!”

“The kind that isn’t a metaphor at all.”

“Jaskier, if you say a single word about my apple juice—”

“I’m not saying anything about apple juice! It’s a noble beverage! But your apple juice leads to some implications!”

“And what if it does!” “Well! Well!” Jaskier flustered. “Well! We were going to watch our nature documentary tonight!”

“No we weren’t,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier looked at him, hurt. “What?”

“We weren’t going to watch the documentary, Jaskier. You were going to find someone to go home with.”

“I did find someone to go home with!” He said, bumping his hip into Geralt.

“I don’t count,” Geralt muttered, as they finally made it into the building.

“Why don’t you count?”

“Because, Jaskier, you weren’t planning to sleep with me.”

“Says who!”

“Let’s just go to mine,” Yennefer said as they stepped in the elevator. “I don’t want to try and navigate his apartment in the dark. I’m sure it’s a wreck.”

“It’s fine, actually,” Jaskier muttered. “Geralt I know we wouldn’t have slept together, you have standards, but—”

“Well, more like because he was planning on sleeping with me, thank you very much.”

“Watch out, Lady of the Penthouse, or I’ll… write a song about you.”

“Who said I was planning or not planning on sleeping with anyone?”

“You did!”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“That’s the point!”

“So, you two… aren’t sleeping together?”

“What’s your point?!” Geralt demanded, oblivious to Yennefer’s question.

“Well, that’s how you know someone doesn’t want to sleep with you! One of the many ways. They don’t say they do! You’ve made it clear we’re just… you know. Pals.”

“I never said that!”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jaskier, for once in your life, would you say something with some sense?!” “I said, ‘come home with me’! How much more clear do I have to be than ‘I’d rather spend the night with you’?! Actually, frankly, with both of you, this is nice. Loud, but nice. I can’t believe I’m saying this about my sworn nemesis.”

“Now, hold on—”

“Everybody shut up!” Yennefer said, loud enough that the boys shut their mouths. “No more speaking. We will be at my apartment soon. I will be going into my kitchen to get you,” she pointed at Jaskier, “something to ensure you don’t get sick all over the elevator.”

“I’m—I’m feeling a lot better, really,” he said. She made a shushing motion against his lips, and she could feel his hot breath, could sense his heartbeat race faster, watched his cheeks flush. Interesting.

“By the time I’m back, I want you two sorted.” The doors dinged, and they emerged on a landing in front of an intricate white door, which Yennefer opened with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be back in a moment. Just… let me know who Geralt will be kneeling for,” she said, and then walked into the kitchen, heels snapping against the tile.

She looked at her cabinets, opening one and retrieving the bottle she wanted. Well. They’d need more than a few seconds, surely. She placed it carefully on the counter and listened.

“I…” Geralt was saying. “Um.”

“I didn’t… Geralt. I’m sorry. I don’t want to… ruin things.”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“You’ve hardly shown interest, I know you’re not…”

“I’m bad at these things. Talking. You know that.”

“Okay, then…” Jaskier trailed off, and took a big breath. “Then show me.”

“Show you?”

“What you mean. Or… what you don’t mean. I don’t know. But if there’s… Geralt, if there’s something, anything about me that you want, in that way, I am asking you to show me. It’s fine if not. But… I’m here, I want it, if you do. I mean, I want it either way, really. Have for a bit.”

“…You’re drunk.”

“I won’t be, once Yennefer gets that… thing. And it’ll be the same. I promise.

“I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“How could I regret you? Show me, Geralt. Please.”

“…Show you."

“Yes, yes, please, Geralt. Pl—”

And there was silence. Or, there was the sound of mouths sliding against each other, soft, deep moans reverberating in their chests. She let them have the moment, and then Jaskier gave a soft whine, and she smiled. That was her cue.

She clicked into the foyer, bottle held aloft.

“A gift,” she said, and the two staggered apart, “for my nemesis. Purely because his white wolf brought me apple juice, let it be known. And thank you for the show. Both at the bar and here.” Jaskier stepped toward her and took the bottle.

“I must warn you,” she said, “it tastes like goat piss.” Jaskier popped the cork, and chugged the bottle before making a face.

“How long does it take to— oh, fuck—”

“Pretty instantaneous,” Yennefer said as he grabbed her shoulder to support himself. Geralt came up behind him.

“The room stopped spinning. I didn’t even realize it was spinning,” he frowned. He shook his head for a moment, turned back to Geralt, and grabbed his neck, pulling them to meet in a firm kiss. “See? Meant it.”

“Maybe I need some of that too,” Geralt muttered. “Things are spinning.”

“As much as I enjoy playing cupid,” Yennefer said, taking back the bottle, “it seems as though I’ve been a bit removed from the equation, so you two had best be off, I suppose.”

“Someday, you’ll be won over by my charms,” Jaskier said with a kiss to her knuckles. “But if you two had… plans… I could always wait a night. Unless you’d like both of us in your bed,” he half-joked to her.

“I don’t know how this is happening to me,” Geralt muttered.

“Oh, be careful what you wish for, Jaskier,” she hummed, “you might just get it.”

“Does this mean I’ve won you over?”

“It means I don’t let a good night pass me by.”

“Oh, so you think I’ll be good, you admit that.”

“It means I’m open to you proving me wrong. But I saw you play. You can make good use of those hands. Geralt?”

Geralt was leaning against the wall, staring into the middle distance, looking lost. “I just. A lot has happened. I thought you hated each other?”

“I told you she was gorgeous, I don’t just say things.”

“You do very much just say things.”

“Well, then, someone’s going to have to shut me up.”

Yennefer tilted his head back to face her and pulled him down into a kiss—languid and slow, as one of his arms grabbed her waist and pulled her upwards and to him, just enough that she was standing on tip toe. She ran her hands up his chest, coming to rest around his neck, playing with his hair. He finally pulled away, just to kiss a line down one side of her jaw, sucking a small mark onto her neck.

She looked back at Geralt, still a bit dazed but with a fire behind his eyes. “Well,” she said, detaching herself from Jaskier. “Will you be joining?”

Rather than answer, Geralt took a few steps forward toward her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her—gentle and almost pleading. They fit together so easily, he thought. He hadn’t ever fit with someone like he had with two people tonight. How had he earned this? How had he made it to this point in his life?

Jaskier was suddenly behind him, kissing his back, running one hand up his chest, the other against Yennefer’s hand, which had reached his shoulder. He couldn’t have all this, could he?

“You think so loudly, Geralt,” Yennefer teased him.

“It’s true,” Jaskier agreed. “Even I hear it, darling.”

“Okay. Then… take me somewhere I don’t have to think.”

Yennefer smiled, took his hand in hers, and Jaskier’s in her other. “I’m glad your place was the bedroom,” Jaskier whispered, “Because honestly, mine would probably be the zoo.”

Yennefer pinched his hand, “Ow! But am I wrong?! You don’t need your brain for the zoo!” and led them on.

x

8:24am

Sunday, April 3rd

16 Messages from Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Coral Lytta — 9 hours ago

okay, thanks for letting us know, yen!!! have fun!!

Fringilla – 9 hours ago

Wait, I’m sorry, were the two people you just went home with the witcher and the musician? The guy you hate?

Sabrina — 9 hours ago

What on earth is happening

Fringilla – 9 hours ago

She didn’t specify which two guys she went home with, but I’m pretty sure I just saw them all leave together.

Sabrina — 8 hours ago

I can’t believe drama is happening without me

Coral Lytta — 7 hours ago

its not drama drama is frin getting the number of someone with a green hair when she specifically said she’d sworn off of green hair for at least a year

Sabrina — 7 hours ago

omfg

Fringilla – 6 hours ago

Coral!! Where are you, I’m not letting you get away with this! They’re cute! You can’t shame me.

Coral Lytta — 5 hours ago

update everyone we got a car home and frin has been texting green hair (jesu) the whole way home if youre reading this its too late for me it was nice knowing u

Sabrina – 3 hours ago

Loving this. Just blew up half a field with Anica. She says hi

Sabrina – 2 hours ago

Hey yen I am seeing this mystery enemy of yours on tiktok people filmed his set

Sabrina – 2 hours ago

He’s hot good job

Sabrina – 2 hours ago

But why is he playing a fucking lute

Coral Lytta – 1 hour ago

morning all yennefer please send pics of ur hot date(s)

Fringilla – 15 minutes ago

Are we not addressing that Sabrina and Anica blew up a field?!

Sabrina — Just Now

Lol

8:24am

Sunday, April 3rd

167 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT (AND GERALT) DATES… Showing 16

Lambert – 10 hours ago

Okay I made him laugh and now I’m in the bathroom what the fuck now??

Eskel – 10 hours ago

Pay for the bill, leave a good tip for that waiter for saving your ass, and then ask him if he wants to go back to yours. You’ve done this before, Lamb.

Coën – 10 hours ago

He’s been flirting with you all night, you’ll be fine.

Lambert – 10 hours ago

Fuck Okay If you never hear from me again it’s because I died of embarrassment

Lambert – 10 hours ago

Bye forever

Eskel – 9 hours ago

Drama queen. Hey Geralt how’s it going?

Coën – 9 hours ago

He’s in it too deep. He probably watched that guy play live and just died.

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Sex is so awesome

Eskel – 6 hours ago

Congrats bro. I’m sleeping now.

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Don’t you wanna hear about how great sex is

Eskel – 6 hours ago

I know it’s great, Lambert. I’ve had sex before

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Are we sure are we super sure you had sex cause like I just had GREAT sex possibly the best

Coën – 6 hours ago

It is two in the morning. I am begging you to shut up

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Put us on silent so I can talk about how great sex is

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Ha beat you to this one Geralt bet you didn’t have sex with someone hot tonight. HA

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Okay gotta go round two bye

8:24am

Sunday, April 3rd

Geralt – 10 hours ago

You coming back to the table?

Geralt – 10 hours ago

If I’m gone when you get back let me know when you get home

Geralt – 10 hours ago

You did really good, Jaskier. I’m proud of you

TikTok – 2 hours ago

You have 25,634 new followers!

TikTok – 1 hour ago

You hit 2.3 million views! Click here to see what people are saying…

Spotify – 15 minutes ago

You have 5,785 new followers and 806,216 new listens on Toss a Coin EP

Maybe: Yennefer – 5 minutes ago

It's Yennefer, send me that selfie of all of us you took, I wanna freak out my group chat

Geralt, Maybe: Yennefer

Maybe: Yennefer – 4 minutes ago

I can’t believe I’m the one doing this, but I guess we need a group chat.

To: Geralt, Maybe: Yennefer

Message: 1 image

Here’s the selfie for you both!! Use it wisely ;)

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Yennefer – 3 minutes ago

Geralt get me apple juice while you’re up

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Yennefer – 2 minutes ago

Jaskier, this chat name, you cannot be serious

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Geralt – Just now

Haha

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Geralt – Just now

:)

[august-anon]

You know i gotta hop in on that Taakitz action!! Perhaps something with cold hands? Either them tickling Taako or Taako issuing retaliation tickles because Kravitz keeps sticking them on his warm body.

Admittedly at first I was like "when would this even be set because I thought his hands warmed up from the power of love" and THEN i remembered that there's at least a few months between the end of the last arc and that line at Carey and Killian's wedding, so there's a good time for this fic to take place lol. So they're dating, but there's no L-word just yet lol.

Also, thank you for the prompt, I loved it!

--

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance

Ship(s): Taakitz

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Taako/Ler!Kravitz (brief Ler!Taako/Lee!Kravitz)

Word Count: 1736 words

Summary: Taako would love nothing more than to cuddle close with his boyfriend. Unfortunately, the heat of the kitchen and the chill of Kravitz's hands don't quite mix. Kravitz doesn't intend to give up so easily.

[ao3 link]

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

Taako smiled as he heard the front door open and close, but he didn’t move from his spot in the kitchen. He continued flitting between his pots and pans, preparing dinner, listening as Kravitz completed his routine and made his way through the house. By the time Kravitz made it into the kitchen, Taako had everything on a low simmer.

“Good evening, my dear,” Kravitz said. “Everything smells lovely.”

Taako hid a smile. “It better.”

Taako didn’t move away from the stove, even as he heard Kravitz prowl up behind him. He relaxed back into Kravitz’s chest as Kravitz’s hands came up to rest on his hips, humming as Kravitz pressed his lips to Taako’s shoulder.

“How long until dinner is finished?” Kravitz asked, his breath across Taako’s neck sending shivers down his body.

Taako hummed. “A little while. Why?”

He tilted his head to give Kravitz more access as his lips started trailing up Taako’s neck. He finally let the smile show, figuring that Kravitz wouldn’t be able to see it from his vantage point in Taako’s neck.

And then Taako shrieked and jumped away as Kravitz’s hands slipped up under his shirt to brush across his bare skin.

“Taako?” Kravitz asked, his hands still hovering in the air where Taako’s body had just been. “Babe?”

The warmth of the kitchen had soaked into Taako as he had cooked, leaving his skin overheated and sensitive to even a normal temperature. Kravitz’s cold hands felt worse than ice, sending a startling shock through his entire body.

“Cold!” Taako shrieked belatedly, rubbing at his sides.

Kravitz’s shoulders relaxed as he shook his head and chuckled. He started rubbing his hands together, as if the friction would be enough for Taako to let those hands come near him again.

“Don’t you come near me with those,” Taako said.

Kravitz raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Taako,” he called teasingly, raising his hands as he crept toward Taako. “Come here, dear.”

Taako pointed at Kravitz, backing further away. “Kravitz…”

Kravitz lunged. Taako yelped, a frantic, high-pitched sound he would never admit to making under pain of death, and darted out of his path. Kravitz followed him, chasing him around the kitchen island and towards the dining table.  Whereas Taako had respect for the furniture Magnus had crafted for his and Kravitz’s home, Kravitz seemed to have no such concerns. While Taako ran around the edge of the table, trying to get to the far side, Kravitz pulled himself atop it.

Taako made a desperate bid for the archway leading toward the rest of the house, but Kravitz jumped off the top of the table, tackling Taako to the floor. Taako winced, prepared for pain, but Kravitz had carefully maneuvered them so that he took the brunt of the fall, Taako landing on top of him, back to chest. Taako gasped once he found his bearings, trying to escape Kravitz’s arms, but his grip was sure. He was well and truly stuck.

“Don’t you dare,” Taako said, hoping the grin stretching across his face didn’t come across in his voice. He had to appear stern, after all.

“Don’t what, darling?” Kravitz asked, his fingers teasing at the hem of Taako’s tunic. “I’m just trying to show my lovely boyfriend how much I care about him.”

Taako didn’t get a chance to retort, shrieking as Kravitz’s chilly hands slipped under his shirt once more. Taako squirmed under the freezing touch, grabbing at Kravitz’s wrists and trying to push him away. Kravitz laughed and fought to keep his hands on Taako’s skin.

“Taako-- come on, quit-- just let me--!”

Kravitz grabbed at Taako’s side in an attempt to keep his grip, squeezing at the flesh. Suddenly, Taako was squealing for a whole new reason. He kicked his legs frantically, trying to propel himself out of Kravitz’s grip.

Kravitz laughed again. “It can’t be that cold, Taako, dear.”

Taako didn’t say anything. He was perfectly content to let Kravitz believe that was the issue. If Taako had managed to hide his little weakness from Kravitz for this long, he could manage to hide it a little longer.

Except then, in all their squirming and tussling, Kravitz’s hands kept shifting and moving, squeezing and pinching at places with an unfair amount of sensitivity. It only made him squirm worse, which only led to Kravitz accidentally tickling him more. It was a vicious circle that Taako didn’t know how to escape.

Taako thought he would be able to hold out until Kravitz got bored. It wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten far worse from Magnus or Lup, or even Barry at times. Only then, Kravitz hands landed on his ribs, his nails scrabbling and scratching for purchase against Taako’s skin as he continued to squirm. Taako couldn’t help it, he burst out into squeaking laughter.

“No!” Taako cried out, though it was far too late.

Kravitz’s hands only faltered for a moment, before he let out a low chuckle directly against Taako’s ear, making his ear flick as he let out another squeal. His hands started scribbling against Taako’s ribcage a lot more deliberately, searching out tickle spots.

“I don’t think this about the cold anymore at all,” Kravitz murmured into his ear. “I think someone has been hiding something from me.”

“Kravitz, please!”

“Please what?” Kravitz hummed. “Please… warm up my hands using your warm, ticklish torso? It’d be my pleasure, my dear.”

Kravitz’s scratching nails managed to find Taako’s sweet spot, just above the middle of his ribs, slightly towards the back. Taako nearly screamed, despite the touch being so light and teasing, the buildup and taunting making everything so much more unbearable. He thrashed enough that he was able to escape Kravitz’s grasp at long last, throwing his dignity to the side as he tried to crawl away across the tile.

“Oh, Taako,” Kravitz called, starting to crawl after him. “I don’t think my hands are quite warm enough yet.”

“Don’t touch me,” Taako shouted back, still giggling at the phantom tingles dancing down around his torso.

Taako shrieked when he felt a cool hand wrap around his ankle, slowly tugging him back. The worst part was, Kravitz’s hands did feel warmer. It wasn’t fair. He kicked against Kravitz’s grip, managing to throw him off, and scrambled to his feet. He raced out of the kitchen, and he could hear Kravitz’s footsteps thundering after him.

“Taako,” Kravitz called after him, his voice cajoling and teasing. “Come back! I promise I won’t do it again.”

Taako didn’t need a Zone of Truth to know how big of a lie that was. He could practically feel those wiggling fingers looming over him already, more than prepared to seek out all of Taako’s sensitive spots until he was begging for mercy. Embarrassingly enough, it wasn’t an outcome Taako would necessarily mind, but he had a reputation to uphold, an appearance to upkeep, and despite his care for Kravitz, it still was not something he could give up so easily.

But he wouldn’t have to give up that control if he got Kravitz pleading, first.

Without a thought, Taako switched directions, barrelling toward Kravitz instead of running away. Kravitz yelped, an adorably startled sound that Taako was not blessed with often, and stumbled over himself trying to stop and avoid collision. A new grin rose to Taako’s lips, feral and hungry, and he tackled Kravitz back to the ground.

“Maybe this will teach you to go around sticking your cold, clammy hands on everyone,” Taako said.

He slipped his hands under Kravitz’s own shirt, dragging his nails down Kravitz’s chilly sides. Giggles bubbled out of Kravitz’s mouth even as he raised a hand to cover it, using the other to swat at Taako in a feeble attempt at self-defense. Taako laughed, high and unaffected, and gently pinched around Kravitz’s stomach.

“Perhaps I can be persuaded to be merciful,” Taako said. “If you told me where you’re most ticklish.” He lightened his tickling to let Kravitz respond with more ease.

“I’m not an idiot, Taako,” Kravitz said around his giggles. “I know better than to tell you that.”

Taako harrumphed. “Suit yourself.”

He dug his fingers back into Kravitz’s flesh, climbing up his sides and ribs. Kravitz cried out and tumbled back into laughter. His arms clamped down to his sides in an attempt to halt Taako’s ascent, leaving his laughing face in full view. Taako resisted the urge to swoon.

His eyes crinkled with his laughter, joy clear in every wrinkle. His smile was the most beautiful thing Taako had ever seen, Taako could barely bring himself to look at it since it was so bright. Taako didn’t even have words to describe how musical and magical Kravitz’s laughter was.

A certain L-word came to mind, looking at Kravitz like this. Taako refused to acknowledge it, for the time being.

Unfortunately, this all left Taako very distracted. While his tickling fingers hadn’t stopped, they had slowed considerably. It gave Kravitz ample time to gather his wits about him and slide his hands under the hem of Taako’s skirt. Taako screeched, both at the once-again-freezing hands and the ticklish massage his thighs were suddenly being assaulted with. He almost toppled right off Kravitz’s lap with his cackles, doubling over and ceasing his own tickling to try and push Kravitz off, as unsuccessful as it was.

“Distracted, my dear?” Kravitz asked, focusing his tickling on Taako’s inner thighs and making him gasp for air. “Clearly you don’t understand the position you’re in.”

While he continued tickling at Taako’s thighs with one hand, the other crawled up Taako’s body. Taako cursed how smart he was, how good his memory was, as his fingers quickly found that death spot on his ribs once more. Taako toppled forward, face-planting into Kravitz’s chest as he lost himself to his frantic laughter.

“Unfortunately,” Kravitz said directly into Taako’s ear, making it flick and flinch away from his ticklish breath, “my hands are still very cold. I think it may take a while to warm them up.”

Taako wailed with mirth.

“Good thing dinner won’t be ready for a while yet, hm?”

Taako knew he was in for a long evening. The only thing that would get Kravitz to stop would be his timers going off, and they still had plenty of time left before that happened. Kravitz was going to ruin him.

Taako couldn’t wait.

[jamespotterthefirst]

I just re read ur five birthdays fic and suddenly many questions E and L 's kids popped up in my mind!!! So here they are..

1. How apart are the 4 kids in age? I mean twins not aprt but they are aprt by minutes right?😂

2. Do they attend private school or public school?

3. God parents?

4. Who are they closest to in the gang?

5. Are they planned(I like to think they are unplanned😂)?

6. What's E and L's reaction when they find out they r having twins

7. E and L's reaction them being twin girlssss😍😍?

8. Does any of them have blue eyes? It would be nice to have one of them with ethan's blue eyes instead of hazel🥺

9. What are their nick names?!

10. Out of four who is most similar lilac and who is most similar to ethan?

11. Are they close to alan or lilac's side of the family?

12. How many languages do they speak? I like to think at first 2 english and spanish and they learn some more as they grow

13. Who is the laziest child and sassiest child? I loveee kids with sass😂

I know these are LOT of questions but I am almost embarrassingly involved in the lives of these fictional people😂😂 sending u hugs!! 😍Have a good dayy🤗

Hi! I know this is so late and I hope you can forgive me. Thank you for reading that fic and for these lovely questions:

1. How apart are the 4 kids in age? I mean twins not aprt but they are aprt by minutes right?😂

Jonah and Dolores are 2.5 years apart. Dolores and the twins are 3 years apart. So Jonah is almost 6 when the twins are born, Dolores is 3. Violet was born first so that makes Jasmine the youngest.

The twins were born 27 minutes apart.

2. Do they attend private school or public school?

Hmm. I can see Ethan and Lilac placing value in the public education system while also wanting the educational experience from private school. I'd say they enroll them in public elementary and middle school. When it's time to move on to high school, the kid decides if they want to go on to a public high school or a private. I can see Violet and Jonah choosing private solely for the STEM programs offered there.

3. God parents?

Jonah: Sienna and Naveen

Dolores: Bryce and Jackie

Violet: Rafael and Kyra

Jasmine: Aurora and Elijah

4. Who are they closest to in the gang?

They adore Uncle Bryce and Aunt Sienna with all their hearts. Bryce is the cool, fun uncle and Sienna spoils them with treats. Individually, I see Dolores really jiving with her godmother, Jackie. Jonah with Bryce (as he eventually aspires to be a surgeon). Violet with Elijah and Aurora. Jasmine with Sienna!

5. Are they planned(I like to think they are unplanned😂)?

Jonah was 100% unplanned but never unwelcomed. Dolores was a bit more planned, though they were still surprised she got pregnant so soon after trying. And the twins... lol. They only wanted one more and got two so.. half and half?

6. What's E and L's reaction when they find out they r having twins

They are stunned. Lilac cries tears of joy (and a bit of anxiety lol). Ethan holds his wife's hand and mentally kisses the little amount of sleep he gets goodbye. They're both a little bit terrified because caring for one baby at a time was so difficult.... Now two? Little do they know, their friends and family are all in to help them out in anyway they can.

7. E and L's reaction them being twin girlssss😍😍?

Overjoyed. Neither of them could have imagined it that way. Lilac teases Ethan about having to deal with four Allende sassy girls. "You know what? Throw in Jonah too because that boy's sarcasm is unmatched."

8. Does any of them have blue eyes? It would be nice to have one of them with ethan's blue eyes instead of hazel🥺

Lilac has green eyes and Ethan has blue, both recessive genes. I picture both Jonah and Dolores to have hazel eyes. The twins are the ones who inherited his blue eyes.

9. What are their nick names?!

Jonah: His sisters call him J. His mother's side of the family often calls him "Jo". Alan calls him "little Ethan" affectionately because of how much he looks like his father. When he was a baby, his mother called him "bunny" because of the cute little way he scrunched up his nose.

Dolores: As a child, she was called "Lolly" by the family. Her father calls her "Captain" or "Cap" because she calls the shots in the house and in his heart. Her mother's side of the family jokingly calls her "Alivios" (which means "relief" in Spanish because "Dolores" means "pains"). Later, when she grows older, she decides to go by "Lori"

Violet: She goes by "V" or "Vi". When she was a baby, her mother called her "tater". Bryce called her "Thing 1"

Jasmine: "Jazzy" by the family. As a baby, her mom called her "tot". Bryce called her "Thing 2"

Both twins are affectionately called "florecitas" ("little flowers") by the Allende family side.

All children are referred to by their mother and her side of the family as "mijo/mija" and variants of "mi vida", "mi cielo", "corazon"

10. Out of four who is most similar lilac and who is most similar to ethan?

Ah! They're all a mix!

Jonah is similar to Ethan in looks. Dolores is similar to him in personality.

Dolores is similar to Lilac in looks. Violet and Jasmine are very similar to her in personality.

11. Are they close to alan or lilac's side of the family?

They're close to both! They love Grandpa Alan and Abuelitos Allende! All three grandparents spoil them so the kids live for it lol.

12. How many languages do they speak? I like to think at first 2 english and spanish and they learn some more as they grow

Ethan and Lilac are passionate about teaching them both English and Spanish, especially during their formative years. Ethan makes a point to use his Spanish around the house and to address his children. As the children grow up, they are fluent in Spanish in various degrees. Some can speak it better than others, they can all understand it, read it, but not write it.

13. Who is the laziest child and sassiest child? I loveee kids with sass😂

That would be Jasmine, without a doubt. Though, for sass, Dolores gives her a run for her money. Poor Ethan and Lilac when they have to deal with an argument between those two.

*Anon bless you! Thank you for these! I love talking about these fictional children!

[buffcontrol]

New Short Story: “Athleticism”

(Female to male bodyswap, race change)

Sora watched with disappointment as all of her friends were accepted to universities on prestigious sports scholarships. She hadn’t received even one letter of admission and time was nearly up — all of her girlfriends had already decided on where they were going. They were all off to schools in Seoul and Busan and a few were even going overseas to study. Meanwhile, Sora had failed so far to get into even her own community college. She was humiliated.

Her grades had never been so good. Throughout senior high school, she had been preoccupied with boys, mostly — shopping to find more attractive dresses, studying makeup tips on Youtube and going on as many dates as she could. She never had the energy to study with the amount of time she spent running out to cafes and practicing her eyeliner in the mirror. It resulted in a boyfriend at least, but even he had kicked her to the curb one he got his admission letter. She was utterly dejected.

If only she had tried a little harder at volleyball, she thought. It wasn’t that difficult. And her friends going to university on athletic scholarships weren’t even that much better than she was. If she had just applied herself, practiced a little more, her grades wouldn’t have mattered and she would be off to university with her boyfriend in tow. But that dream was over: she hadn’t been good enough at volleyball, she hadn’t been smart enough and all she had gotten from her high school career was an expensive wardrobe and some makeup skills.

Maybe she’d end up being an esthetician, she thought. That wouldn’t be so bad… But she felt tears welling up as she longed for the life her friends had. “I wish I was more athletic,” she moaned.

She hadn’t imagined that some cosmic force might have been listening. That fate was ready to intervene. She hadn’t even thought of what she was saying when things started to change.

Sora was lying on her bed and attempting to stifle her tears when she felt a sudden heat swill through her skin. It was like a fever had suddenly loosed from her bones and submerged her whole body. And the sensation began to grow hotter from the base of her slender, white feet.

They were getting bigger. She hadn’t noticed at first, her eyes welled with the residue of her crying, but as she sat up straight and wiped at her face, she saw her toes beginning to expand inside her little pink socks, decorated with flowers and cherry blossoms.

The feeling began to quickly rush up from her feet and over her calves and lower legs. They were expanding, pushing out into lengthier, sturdier limbs as they enlarged over the end of her bed. Soon her new, meaty soles would touch the floor of her room. A sharp pricking revealed the emergence of dark, brown hair slowly beginning to line her entire legs before a set of rough, burly toes ripped from her pink floral socks.

“What’s— what’s happening to… me,” she asked in fear. But the words were hard to remember. It was like her native Korean was becoming more of a second language. “What… this is?”

She clapped a hand to her mouth. The voice didn’t sound like hers. And why was she speaking as if she only knew as much Korean as a foreigner? The fear coursing through her only became more dramatic as she felt the the width of her fingers inflate one by one as they grew thicker and burlier covering the entire width of her face, little knots of hair sprouting around her knuckles and the back of her wrists.

She needed to get up. She needed help, she thought. Something was seriously wrong. She stumbled up from her bed, finding her legs so clumsily long and thick with new muscle she could not operate them properly. She stumbled like a lost bird before toppling to the ground where she watched her legs grow into two overlong hunks of flesh. Even her calves had become radically pronounced and bulbous as if spheres of sheer muscle had been planted inside them, and her thighs were suddenly ripped with wedges and valleys of defined bulk. And they were so wide — they seemed almost double the size of her waist. With a final push out, they desecrated the last of her skirt, leaving her lace panties exposed while hair began to crawl further up her thighs.

Sora could only scream like a little girl, but she found that the voice erupting from her throat was low and gravel-like. Rocky and deep. It was no longer her voice, it was that of a man’s and one that did not belong to her. She covered her round lips with her strapping, wide palms, just to discover even her forearms were growing blocky with muscle. She didn’t even know muscles like that existed. And as it rose around the bones in her arms, stretching and pulling in new directions, she saw her skin was taking on a decidedly lighter tone. It spread from her fingernails and into her plump fingers before racing up her arms: becoming white.

Watching the changes take her body, she was overwhelmed with the tremendous weight possessing her upper arms. Her biceps pushed up so quickly they ripped through her school uniform, shredding the fabric and leaving her embarrassingly exposed. Despite being alone in the room, she sheepishly tried to cover herself up somehow, hide herself from the humiliation of how much of her body was visible. But her arms were such an absurd and lewd size at this point, it was no use; no matter how she adjusted her swelling arms, they revealed a wild thickness and muscle.

Her chest, too, was expanding. She had nice sized breasts — it was always what she received compliments on from boys — but the weight accumulating in her upper body was different from before. It popped the last buttons of her uniform and revealed her pink bra beneath where she found the bouncy flesh of her chest replaced with broad sinews of strength. Her nipples shrank and centered into a symmetrical face.

And across her new broad chest came a quickly encroaching layer of light hair. She cried out again, her voice even more masculine than before, as she desperately tried to swipe away at the new hair. It only grew thicker as she itched at it in place.

Her neck grew wider as her spine readjusted to fit her strange new height. Her countenance was changing too, she could feel her mouth getting wider and her lips thickening into a straighter, more square shape. Her petite, button like nose became broad and demanding as the nasal tissue stiffened, and her brow dropped and dug toward the lower half of her face. In her closet mirror, she watched as her jaw became rectangular and cut with the appearance of facial hair that immediately sickened her with disgust. Her small and delicate face was gone: staring back at her was a freakish foreigner bodybuilder. Finally, her long black haircut shriveled up into a tight brown crop as her eyelids unfolded and the muscles across her face realigned. She tried to think of how to say help in Korean — the word was totally vanished from her mind. Instead was a different word which echoed around with a startling familiarity. “Hilfe!” she sobbed. Tears bobbed down her big, boyish face. “Hilf mir!”

Cowering and beginning to cry in horror at what had happened to her, she awkwardly stood and walked in her usual dainty fashion toward the mirror. She had trained herself to walk with her hips, one foot in front of the other, which looked horribly ridiculous in the six foot four frame of this man she had come to inhabit. She’d been a whole foot shorter before.

“Ew…” she muttered, examining the hair stricken across her handsome face. And that was before she noticed the sudden musky smell of sweat move up from her exposed armpits. When she looked down to examine them, she nearly jumped in horror at the amount of wiry hair springing from them.

“This can’t be me…” she said, “this can’t be happening.” It wasn’t until she had finished speaking in her dumb, bro-like voice that she realized none of the words parting her lips were in Korean. What language was it? The words were masculine and brutish -- and she realized, she was speaking German. She panicked as she tried to find any Korean words in her brain and only a horrendously pronounced “annyeonghaseyo” spittled out.

As she was pulling on the features of her face, cringing at the horrible scent of man spiraling up from her, she felt a sudden transformation in the heat in her body. It began to concentrate all at one point, just beneath her stomach, punctuated with a stiff valley of abdominal muscles. The feeling was just beneath it, hotter than before, as if she was incinerating right there. At the crotch.

She stared into the mirror and watched as her lace panties quickly began to fill with the round head of a tremendous white cock. She nearly screamed again, except for that  as she opened har mouth to, the sensation was flushed with extraordinary pleasure. She felt all of her sexual organs push into a new shape as they seemed to exit her body and manifest in the sensitive rod of her new genitals. And they kept expanding until the lace panties were so stretched with flesh she thought they would rip too. Balls descended from her, also scattered with hair, and she felt an entirely new sensation as blood rushed into this strange, massive thing between her thick highs which shot up straight. She was hard as fuck. Her dick finally popped up from the base as an intimidating 10 inch monster against her obliques.

Sora looked into the mirror with shock. She had become truly athletic. She thought: I got what I wanted. The feeling of accepting this truth was unlike anything she had ever felt as her two slabs of pectoral muscle overworked her little pink bra and her new cock throbbed against the bottom of her panties. She moaned: her voice still inflected with a feminine tone as her cry of pleasure came out more like a woman’s whine. She was overwhelmed, but she knew she had to do something with all of this pleasure.

She threw herself on her bed and desperately began to work her cock. It was intuitive: up and down with her hand. She fingered her nipples with her free hand and pressed her pecs together as if they were still made from the breast tissue she had possessed before. She had loved having her breasts played with during sex: this was altogether a different feeling, but the sensitivity radiating in her nipples was enough to make her buck in place. It was a strange feeling, she thought, the pleasure was so much stronger and stranger. As she moaned and squirmed on the bed, her sprawling back and thick, firm ass slicked with sweat, an incredible intensity seized her unlike anything she had ever felt before. For a moment, she was horrified, she thought she might die as her cock suddenly exploded with semen. She was coated in it: with no idea how to control her ejaculation, her cute pink sheets and her 

Weeping in a bizarre guilt and terror, she found the only thing in her closet that would fit her: a baggy dress she had thought was once stylishly oversized. The dress that had been large on her small body now bunched up at her huge chest, so tight her new arms split a seem. Her enormous dick and balls gorged on the material and were totally visible through the white clothes as she marched downstairs for help.

Her family was preparing for dinner. They gasped and screamed as a lumbering German man appeared, crying in a feminine tone at odds with its bovine pitch: “Was ist mit mir passiert? Was ist mit mir passiert?!”

Her family had been shocked by the transformation, but not entirely surprised. Once they had worked out what had ahppened, they said this kind of thing had occurred in their family before, ancestors previously randomly taken by the power of a misplaced wish. Accepting their daughter’s fate, they began to help Sora adjust to her new life. It was extraordinarily difficult with the new language barrier — Sora had to relearn Korean from the ground up and could only express the most basic of desires. Her father had to teach her how to properly wash beneath her balls after she had showed up to breakfast one morning disgusting with musk. Shaving had been a nightmare. She could hardly figure it out, and after not too long she gave up on getting rid of her body hair. She surrendered to the tangle of pit hair and curls across her chest and groin, though she continued to try and lop at the patches of masculine hair on her face. And though it had taken her a great deal of practice, at least she no longer had to sit to piss on the toilet anymore, she had figured out how to pee standing up. She was slowly figuring out how to adapt to this new world.

Wrecked with shame and embarrassment at her ridiculous new form, she was most disgusted to discover how often her new body needed release. Every morning she woke up in the too-small girly pajamas she insisted on wearing with her titanic dick raging and desperate to cum. Her attempts to ignore her new sex drive were in vain: if she neglected her dick for too long, it began getting hard at any moment and leaking with pre-cum.  She couldn’t believe this is what men had to put up with, and twice daily she woefully turned her attention to masturbating, clumsily whacking her dick around until it finally came and surrendered for a time being.

But the one thing that hadn’t changed was her desire for men. Now, only she had to cater to a different crowd. She had wondered at first if the change might make her into a straight man, but she found she was now even more desperate for male attention. She was wildly lonely, only having her teddy-bear for company. The same bear she’d had since she was a child.

Her desire for a man only increased as time went on. She could hardly take the shocked stares she received from other Koreans when she went out in public -- she wanted to scream “I’m the same as you!” despite knowing she was not at all -- but she desperately needed to find someone to give her what she needed. Occasionally, she’d notice other men ogling her body, watching her closely as her girly walk shook her hips and ass as she awkwardly tried to move. 

When she couldn’t take it anymore, she looked up the closest gay bar. She went by herself, sneaking out after her parents went to sleep, and wandered in with her feminine canter and shyness as she blushed and kept her head down. But all eyes were on her. When finally a handsome foreigner came up to her and asked her if she wanted to go home with him, she realized at last why she had wanted to become athletic. As he sucked her dick in his dirty, tiny apartment, she felt an unbelievable pleasure for the first time. She thought, this is why I wanted to be athletic. 

She came with an obscene geyser of cum into the foreigner’s mouth, and she thought that maybe this had been a blessing all along.