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jarofstyles · 2 months

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Ultramarine- Indigo 7

Hello! Here is a cute part of Indigo, I'm sorry she's a slow burn but I really love them so I don't wanna rush them <3

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Indigo Masterlist

WC- 2.8k

Warnings- mention of trauma and bullying (brief) and sexual tension ;)

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Y/N was grabbing lunch with him.

Harry’s hand ached, the 5 hour session being particularly grueling regardless of how used his muscles were to the gun. He used arthritic cream on it and his wrist as he took a break in his office, finally checking his phone. As impressed as he was with the woman who had come and sat for 5 hours, he’d wished she wanted a break when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. H was giddy and anxious to see what Y/N was saying- she was the only one who texted him during the day besides Niall with stupid tiktok links and his Mum sending photos of her cats.

When he’d opened it up to see her question, he didn’t hesitate to agree. It didn’t matter if he hurt, he wanted to take any excuse he could to see her.

Y/N; Hiiii! I know this is super last minute so do not be afraid to say no but did you want to grab lunch at around 2:30?

H: Absolutely I do. Sorry for the late reply, I was finishing a tattoo. It isn’t too late to say yes, is it?

Y/N: Oh, amazing :) And no, not too late. I’m kind of bored today, I finished a project and told myself I needed to relax but… I feel restless and I missed you a little bit.

Harry felt himself flush at her response, knowing if anyone saw him at this moment they wouldn't recognize him. His smile was wide and face as pink as he collected himself, grateful that he was in his own office so he could freely feel.

H: Only a little bit? X

Y/N: Well if I said I missed you a lot I’d be a weirdo, wouldn't I? We just saw each other.

H: Well call me a weirdo too then, I suppose. Because I did.

H: A lot, if you couldn’t tell.

Y/N: You are very cute. I’ll be there in a few :)

—-

“Yeah, it’s kinda fucked.” Harry sighed as Y/N took his hand into her own from across the little table. “Usually I love a long session but I’ve been doing them a few days in a row. S’my own fault, but I was hoping for a tap out for once.” He laughed through his nose before it turned into a groan, feeling small thumbs begin to rub over his palm. Y/N pouted ever so lightly, moving in slow circles on the skin and digging in slightly before meeting his eye.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself.” The scold was lighthearted but he could see it on her face. She meant it. It made his chest flutter a little that she cared enough to do that. He was used to basically being on his own, mostly by choice but because it was easy for people to fake concern to get gossip- but he knew Y/N meant it. Her gentle massage on his hand, trying to ease his aching was a nice touch. Her half-drunk smoothie was in front of her, leaving her fingers cool to the touch and another nice addition to the soothing touch. “Shouldn’t wait for them to tap out. You should schedule them in smaller increments so you don’t put too much strain on your poor hands.” Y/N’s eyes met him for a moment before looking away. “They’re too pretty to be hurting.”

He had been surprised by the gall, if he was honest. Y/N had been a bit more shy when coming to this sort of thing but he was mentally preening, not able to hide the smile curling on his lips as he flexed his hand in her grasp. “Yeah? Think I’ve got pretty hands?” He hummed. “Got a bunch of calluses. Some scars. My nail polish is chipped.” Was he fishing for a compliment? A little bit. He wanted a few of them, especially when she had seemed to like his best tools.

“Of course. Just shows you work with your hands, know how to use them.” She stated. “It’s something a lot of people don’t know how to do anymore. The scars add character, and the nail polish is cute. It can always be redone.” She flipped his hand over but continued the slight massage, looking at his long, nimble fingers stretched over her wrists. He had a few rings on them which she knew he took off while tattooing, his fabric bracelets slightly worn besides the silver cuff on the non tattooed wrist. Harry liked to decorate his body and that was obvious. He’d told her he sometimes struggled with expression verbally, so she had a hunch that he used this to express himself. “And I also love the eyeliner thing. It’s attractive too.”

She tacked on the compliment and his smile grew into a grin, shaking his head as he squeezed over her hands with a laugh. “Laying on all the compliments today, yeah? D’want something from me?” All she had to do was ask. The shivers in his body made him more than willing to hand shit over on a silver platter. His eyeliner had been a few years ongoing, a simple charcoal pencil smudging around his eyes. Apparently it brought out the green even more and he did have a few colors. Perhaps one day Y/N would want to do it for him.

“No, no. Just figure people don’t do it as often as they should.” She sighed, dropping one of his hands to take a sip of her smoothie. The contact felt good. Especially since he kept a grip on her hand and swiped his thumb over the back of hers, the gentleness a stark contrast to the chain around his neck, metal on his face and ink on his skin. He was the opposite of what someone would expect, and somehow that made Y/N yearn for even more of him.

“Well.. Thanks. But I’d prefer you to be the one doing the compliments. I know you’re not full of shit.” His smirk made her scoff but she merely continued sipping before moving on. Surely many people meant the compliments they gave him but she knew that he wouldn’t believe them regardless. That was the thing about growing up with that sort of trauma. When you were bullied growing up, seen as a butt of a joke, it was harder to accept people’s genuine kindness. It saddened her immensely, but this wasn’t the place to unpack that.

“You’d have to be dead to not see how attractive you are, H. But I don’t want to give you too much of an ego boost or you’ll leave me in the dust.” Her foot nudged him under the table. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over this weekend? I was thinking of trying out a few cookie recipes and I need a baking assistant- or at the very least, a taste tester.” She offered, trying to hide her nerves. They were at a weird crossroads of developing relationships. Not official, not exactly fully comfortable enough to be shooting plans the day of but still craving their company quite strongly. They weren’t seeing anyone else, at least she hoped so, but they didn’t have a label.

“Are you kidding?” He barked out a laugh. “Of fucking course I do. Used to help my nan back in the day in the kitchen. Christmas breads and sweets galore. You’ve got an old pro on your hands.” Was he vastly overvaluing his kitchen skills? A bit. He knew his way around decently enough, but he wanted to get that smile on her face- which succeeded.

“Oh, lovely.” She chirped. “Then yes, I’d love for you to come over. We’ll get something to eat because m’not sure either of us are going to want to be in the kitchen for more than the cookies.” He watched her nose wrinkle making his heart skip a beat. There were tiny Y/N mannerisms he wanted to get to know. This one in particular he found to be stupidly cute, each time it happened making him smile internally.

“Mhm. I understand. We’ve got a kitchen quota we don’t want to max out.”

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” A hand on her waist stopped her from taking another step further, Y/N grinning to herself as she paused in her step. She had done it just to see what Harry would do, and so far she had been correct. Her hopes had been granted.

“Hm? Home.” She grinned up at him, eyes not able to hide the mischief in them as she moved back towards him. “Is there a problem?”

“I think we need to establish a few things.” His voice dropped, crowding her back against her car. Y/N had started this but felt the air get sucked from her lungs as her back pressed agaisnt the cold metal of her door, eyes widening slightly as she was peering up at him with far less smugness as before. “I don’t like leaving without a proper goodbye, hm? And you know what I’m missing, yeah Darling?” of course she did. She had been aching for it just as badly, the tiny one she got in greeting not even half of the one she needed now, but she wanted to make him work for it a little bit.

“What’s that?” She hummed, biting her lower lip to try and control the grin threatening to break out on her face. The uncontrollable urge to giggle as he seemed to clock the look on her face, shaking his head at her and clicking his tongue while tilting her head up to meet him. It was the closest she could get to a swoon, sure there were little hearts in her pupils as he tapped the bottom of her lip and tugged it from her teeth.

Christ.

“I think you know.” He muttered. “Cruel, cruel little angel. What d’want from me, hm? Do you want me to beg?” His eyes scanned her face. “M’not one to get on my knees for that reason, but I think I could do so for you.”

Y/N’s knees felt weak as he pinned her with his stare, a quivering in her stomach making her blink rapidly at him. Get on his knees? She could only imagine what he did on his knees and the image of him peering up at her with his mouth tucked between her thighs and her knee over his shoulder, working to get his tongue up inside her made her feel hot all over. The mental image was precisely his goal, she found, as his grin rose back and morphed into a smirk as she barely held back a whimper when her lip was stroked by the thumb in question. She had played with the lion as a sweet little lamb, and found herself right in his jaws.

“N-No. Don’t have to beg, but I think it would be cute.” She cursed internally at the stutter, showing her weakness front and center as his face got a bit closer to hers, nose brushing the bridge of hers before moving down to the tip. Being this close made her dizzy, the sweet spice of his cologne and the mint of his gum overwhelming her. The man trapped her against her car, getting closer than she had been to a man in public, but she was pathetic. Internally she was gagging for it, tilting her head up to try and catch his mouth-

Only for him to pull back just enough to miss. A spark in his eye made her want to stomp her foot, the man teasing her more than she had anticipated. Y/N had tried to get the upper hand but it was obvious that the more comfortable he got, the more power he would wield with her. She had been a bit of a fool for thinking that a man like him wouldn’t turn this over, but she had felt like trying her luck.

“Cute? Think it would be cute?” He muttered under his breath. “Well, I’m glad you think so. But I know what this is, little angel. Prettiest little Sunflower, trying to tease me.” Realistically, Harry knew she hadn’t a clue about the true power she had over him, but he would let that remain a secret for a bit longer. “What I meant, by a proper goodbye… Is that I’d like to feel these pretty lips before you leave me.” There was an audible hitch in her throat, making him hold back the smile, ghosting his lips against hers. “You did something to me… m’convinced. Put a spell in your lipgloss or somethin’ like that. Made me crave it. I’m more of a gentleman these days, because the first thing I wanted to do was lick into this pretty little mouth when I saw you today. I controlled it, but I can tell it’ll be a problem later on down the line. I need something sweet to hold me over, y’feel me, doll?” He tapped her lip with his thumb, gently tugging it down before it snapped back up.

Y/N could barely breathe. Sometimes, she found, Harry had these bursts of being pure sex appeal. It was broken up by cute, soft and shy boy, but when he got in this sort of mood she found it hard to keep her vision from swimming. A floaty feeling, making her swallow thickly and nod in a jerking motion as she tried to get up on her tiptoes to catch his lips only to be deprived again. This time she did make a noise of frustration, brows furrowing as she looked at his hooded eyes. It wasn’t fair!

“Oh, m’sorry Sunflower. Couldn’t let you have it that easy when you were about t’leave me without a kiss. Got a mean streak in you, but I’ll take it. You’re sweet and tart, like a Cherry.” He laughed, leading her arm to loop over his neck. “If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you. Give you what you want, maybe even more.” She was rewarded, finally, with a tiny kiss to her pout before pulling back. “But if you want to play games… You’ve gotta remember that m’a nasty competitor.”

Y/N could believe it. Harry oozed ‘win or nothing’ energy and she had tested it now, feeling how quickly she was going to fold. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to test this out when she had more resolve, but she had felt similarly to him the whole time. She wanted him just as badly, and playing with fire wasn’t cutting it right now. The only burn she wanted from him was a big of beard burn between her thighs. “M’sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll be sweet.”

“I heard a silent ‘for now’ after that, but that’s good enough for me.” He rewarded her heavily. Kissing her fully, capturing her lips between his own and pulling her into him as he did so. Harry kissed just how he looked. Intense, hot. She let out a little noise feeling his tongue brush past and the cool metal of his tongue piercing hit hers. It was another reminder of how he would definitely be one to blow her mind when he got on his knees for her, because Harry didn’t seem like the type to do anything half assed. He had the ability to make her feel like she was boiling inside and the only thing that could cool her down was his touch.

It was over too quickly, her thighs clenching together hard as she looked at him with bleary eyes. His face was self assured, a little smug and she was trying to recover. A squeeze was given to her chin, making her clear her vision as she was left a little unsatisfied. But would she ever really be truly satisfied when he took away his mouth? She could kiss him for hours and still feel like she wanted more. Their date was proof of that.

“See? I can be sweet when you are. Rewards.” His confidence blew her away, barely able to recover when he pressed another firm kiss to her mouth without giving her time to react. “Now go on and go get some supplies for our cookies, yeah? Text me when you’re there and when you’re home safe. I’ve got another two appointments.” He wished he could cancel them and just go with her but he didn’t want the rep, and also didn’t want to cling to her. As tempting as it may be, he wanted to start this right.

Y/N’s kiss still tingled on his lips as she drove away. He knew he was deep in the inky indigo waters of infatuation, but he didn’t think that was a bad thing. He’d learn to breathe underwater.

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arminsumi · 8 months

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hey if ur up for it could u write promt 8 of friends to lovers for armin.. but like the reader teaches him how to kiss bc she really wants an excuse to finally kiss him? hehe

KISSING ON THE COUCH.

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン ⋅ fem reader

8 — "I'll teach you to kiss."

NOTE: wheee!! i'm ngl this prompt was made with armin in mind hehe 💗

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.7k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

"Ah, yeah, I mean, kissing is a core part of romance for most people, right? But there's no way I can do that."

Armin's chatting with you in the living room of your parent's house, just like you've always done since you were kids.

"Why? Kissing is pretty fun." you look over at him, drifting from the interleading kitchen over to where he sits slacked on the couch.

He mutters a quick and sweetly Armin-esque thank you under his breath when you hand him a soda. Vanilla Cola, his all-time favorite; he's drank it since he was twelve and didn't intend to stop drinking it.

"But kissing is awkward... you know how my first kiss went." he grimaces at the memory. You let out a breathy laugh, he looks so cute, almost like a drawing of a cute boy rather than a real one.

"Personally, I wouldn't count that as a first kiss. You were, like, what? Thirteen?" you open your own soda with a pop. It fizzes loudly, the bubbles audibly popping.

He opens his own soda, but of course — he does it in such an Armin kind of way. Very delicately pulling the tab back with his very delicate fingertips, as if the metal hurt his sensitive skin. You know he had the worst acne phase out of all your friends, there are faded scars on his cheeks. Rather than mar his beauty, you think they add to it; of course he never believed you when you said that.

"I think I was fourteen. Didn't you have yours when you were — eighteen? Right?" he looks over at you, fingertip circling the soda can lid.

His eyes always get you. They're entrancing. Hypnotizing. Spellbinding. Armin's unaware of the effect he has on girls, but that just makes him even more attractive.

"I did, yes. No need to remind me." you grumble, taking another sip of your soda and coming to a kneel at the coffee table.

You two always sat like that; him lazily on the couch, you on the plush carpet by the coffee table. Always propping your elbow on it, squishing your cheek on one palm. In the middle of a conversation, Armin would mimic your pose just to get a laugh out of you.

"Eighteen isn't too old to have your first kiss. I've told you that before." he reassures.

"Yes it is! Some people have their first kiss when they're little kids."

"But those kisses don't mean anything. They're childish kisses." Armin says.

"What age d'you think people start having adult kisses?" you ask him curiously, setting your soda down on the table.

You watch as Armin looks up in thought for a moment, his hand swiftly wiping some residual soda liquid off his upper lip. How does he make everything so attractive? In fleeting moments like these, you felt a strong urge to kiss him.

I could kiss him. I just need a plan. We're on the subject of kissing already.

You plot your moves like you're playing chess. It really isn't that difficult, but to you it feels like an impossible match.

"I think, adult kisses — eh that's a weird way of saying it — good kisses are after you're eighteen. Or maybe when you've had enough practice? But never mind, I think all the kisses I'll ever have will always be slightly awkward because I don't know what to do." he says.

He glances at you. His heart pangs when you and him make electric eye contact and he looks away. "You know..." he begins, but you cut him off.

"Why don't I teach you to kiss a girl?" you blurt out. "I mean, we're friends. Why not. I mean if you want to. Just a thought..."

He cracks a shy smile, "Just a thought?" he chuckles, then sits up and sets his soda down after a brief moment of thought.

"Alright, teach me." he asks and pats the seat next to him.

You climb up on the couch and settle down into a comfy position next to him — oh, you're very close, he thinks. The proximity makes his heart pang again, he can feel it sharp in his chest. But why? I mean, like you said, you're friends.

Do friends sit on the couch practicing kissing?

"Don't look at me like that." you tease lightly.

He blinks at you, "Like what? Oh, sorry." he giggle and widens his eyes a little. You've scolded him for having bedroom eyes many times, and he's defended that it's not bedroom eyes but rather he just has naturally lidded, sultry eyes.

"So... question." he asks as you lean in. His breath fans your face, it makes your lips tingle. You can smell the Vanilla Cola.

"Hm?"

"Where do I put my hands? Because that's something I've never really understood..."

"Oh... well you can put them anywhere you like."

"Can you guide me?" he asks.

You look at him for a moment. His heart goes wild when you take his hands in yours. Yes you and him have held hands, plenty of times in fact, when you walk around town or when you run down the school corridors or while you explore abandoned buildings.

"Personally... I would want your hands here." you tell him, placing them on your neck, "And if you'd cup the back of my neck like — yeah, like that..."

Was it getting stuffy in here? But there's a good breeze coming in through the open window. Yet you feel like you're choking up. It seems like he is, too.

Warm hands cupping the back of your neck, gentle fingers holding you like a trophy, two big blue eyes staring into your soul.

He pulls you in for a peck. A sweetly awkward one. Your noses bump. Well, now both of you can't stop smiling which makes it hard to do anything.

You lean in for a peck, but it lasts longer than his and — oh my god, he melts. It's history from there. Feeling his best friend's lips sent him to another dimension, as dramatic as that sounds.

He's levitating when you keep pressing teaching kisses to his lips. He loves that you take your time, like you're savoring the taste just like when you sip on your soda.

"Y-you can tilt your head, too, it makes it feel better..." you tell him, a little short of breath.

His head spins a bit at the sensation. His lips are tingly.

"Okay..."

So he tilts his head into the kiss, and holds the back of your neck and slides one hand down and finds your hand. He holds it.

He breaks from the kiss, lips hovering hot over yours, and looks at you through his lashes. "Is this good?"

"Mhm. Really good. You're doing g-good." you assure him.

"Can I keep going?" he asks.

"Yeah..."

So he keeps kissing you, gliding his lips over yours slowly. If anything, he only gets slower. He's really trying to savor it. Like he savors the taste of Vanilla Cola.

Minutes go by, though time dissolved in your minds by now. It was just another meaningless concept. Did past and future exist? Well, did it matter while kissing? No. No it didn't.

You pull away. He blinks and sucks in a breath, bangs lightly ruffled from pressing so close to your forehead. He can taste you on his lips, on his tongue, you're pervading his whole system and he loves it.

"S-so... that's... yeah... any questions?" you laugh, regaining composure quicker than him.

"Huh? What — questions? Yeah... can we do that again?" he asks eagerly.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"I just meant... like... keep teaching me. I think I can learn a lot from those lips." he backtracks nervously, Addam's apple shifting a little when he swallows sharply.

"Oh, right... well... y-yeah. Let's keep going then. Why don't you try kissing me now — mmf."

He goes in for it without hesitation. He kisses with his whole body, you can feel a surge of his passion wash over you, and he can feel a surge of tingles across his brain.

There's a lot of serotonin to be farmed from your kisses.

Light smacking sounds, subtle saliva sounds, lips on lips. He's never enjoyed kissing like this. But it's just practice. You're just teaching him so he can kiss... who? Who does he want to kiss? He doesn't have anyone in mind other than you.

He gets lost in it, and without thinking much he nibbles your bottom lip and swipes his tongue across it. You let him poke his tongue in and — well both of you melt harder than before. It's so impossibly soft. No wonder people praised French kissing. But did they ever get French kissed by such a gentle sweetheart like Armin? You were the only one to have that honor.

"Hah... sorry." he pulls away, breathless.

You pant very lightly, " 's okay..." you smile, "I don't mind if you... use tongue. I like it a lot..."

"Okay..." he gulps and then goes right back in to continue.

Weren't you supposed to be teaching him? It feels like that's not necessary, since both of your lips mold together perfectly. You and him are two matching puzzles pieces.

"Y/n?" he breaks from the kiss and looks down at you, hands gently squeezing both your hands now.

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

He slightly smirks, lips glistening with your saliva, "Did you really wanna educate me on kissing, or did you just wanna kiss me?" he asks. Damn that sharp intuition.

"If the latter, how would you feel about that...?" you ask tentatively.

His heart thumps. Throbs. Palpitates. Malfunctions. You look so sweet, he wants to kiss you again and again.

He doesn't answer with words, he just dives back in for a feathery kiss, tangling his body with yours. Hands cupping your cheeks, in a very indescribably Armin kind of way.

He speaks in between each smooch.

" 'shoulda — kissed me — sooner." he mutters, taking a deep inhale as he kisses you harder than before, leaning into your body, cupping your cheeks so comfortably.

#♥️ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン #fluff #armin #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin fluff #prompts #armin aot #shingeki no kyojin #fic #fanfic #aot fanfic #aot x reader #armin x fem reader

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engie-ivy · 25 days

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(Inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic 's Alternative Universes theme! A sort of combined Performer AU and College AU🙂)

1058 words

Sirius Black's emotional break-up songs are topping the charts all over the world. But hearing those songs everywhere he goes, Remus is about to reach his breaking point.

With His Song

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not the concrete, nor the stone,

Not the room you sit in,

But the smile that lights it up.

Not the bed you sleep in,

But the heartbeat besides your own.

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not necessarily a place,

Sometimes, it's tracing the scars on someone's hand,

Sometimes, it's counting the freckles on someone's face.

It's been so long,

Coming home to you,

And did you know,

I could easily move on?

But the truth is,

I just don't want to.

If home is where the heart is,

Then baby, could it be,

That your home is still with me?

Mary lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of her. “My god, I'm going to listen to that song on repeat for the rest of the week,” and after a moment she adds “potentially the rest of my life.”

“Then you're gonna have to get some headphones,” Remus says. “Because I'm already getting sick of hearing it.”

Mary gasps and clutches her chest. “Blasphemy!”

Remus gives her an unimpressed look. “I don't think you're using that word right.”

“‘Irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable’,” Mary states unfazed. “So yes, the perfect description of you insulting Sirius Black's music.”

Emmeline nods emphatically.

Remus sighs. “I'm not saying it's a bad song,” he says. “Just that I'm getting tired of hearing it everywhere, all the time.”

Mary opens her mouth to retort, but Emmeline interjects.

“I do sort of relate. It has gotten a painful tinge to hear the song, now that I know I won't be seeing Sirius Black perform it live…”

“You didn't get tickets for his show?” Marlene asks.

“No,” Emmeline sighs miserably. “I'm on the waiting list. Number 329.”

“Not as bad as Hestia. She's number 1550 or something.”

Emmeline shrugs. “In the end, it makes no difference. 329 or 1550, neither one of us is going to the concert. I mean, 329 people will have to die, and I don't reckon I'd be that lucky…”

“Emmeline!” Lily scolds.

“Well, that's the only excuse for not going to a Sirius Black concert, literally being dead,” Mary says. “I'd actually skip my mum’s funeral if I could see him live.”

“Mary!”

“No, no, Lils,” Emmeline says. “You don't know Mary's mum. If Mary were to miss out on seeing Sirius Black for her funeral, she'd actually come back from the death to haunt her.”

Mary nods. “She's a huge fan. Not going to a Sirius Black concert would be disrespecting her memory.” She glances over at Remus. “She might have some things to say as well if she hears that my actual roommate has openly disrespected Sirius Black’s music.”

Remus sticks out his tongue. “Sue me.”

“As soon as they create a law that makes depreciating Sirius Black illegal, which they should, I will!”

“Anyhow,” Emmeline says. “I haven't heard Sirius Black's voice for almost five minutes and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms,” and she reaches out to put the record back on.

Remus gets up to his feet. “That's my cue to leave.”

“You don't have to, Remus,” Lily says quickly. “If you really don't want us to, we won't put on his music. We value your company more than listening to Sirius Black.”

“Says who? Ow!” Emmeline rubs her shin where Lily kicked her.

Remus smiles at Lily. “Thanks, Lils, but it's okay. I have a paper I need to work on anyway.”

The moment Remus closes the door to his bedroom, he lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of him.

Then, almost without thinking, he takes out his phone and punches in the number by heart.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised and, dare Remus think, hopeful?

“You have to stop doing this,” Remus hears himself say. “No,” he then corrects himself. “You don't have to do anything. I'm asking you. Please stop doing this.”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” He seems to be walking away from something– A promo event? A fancy dinner? An exclusive party?– as Remus can hear the voices in the background grow softer. Remus feels a brief hint of satisfaction; no matter how big the event he's at, how important the people he's with, when Remus calls, he gets up and walks away to talk to him, but Remus quickly corrects himself, because it's not like that anymore.

“It's killing me,” Remus admits, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I understand, but… God, it's killing me.”

“Rem,” Sirius, because of course it's Sirius, says gently. “You're still not making much sense. What are you trying to say? Why are you suddenly calling me? Why… Why now?”

“Your latest releases,” Remus says, as he starts pacing the room, though he can barely take two steps before he reaches the opposite wall. It's rather telling of the difference between them, he can't help but think. Sirius undoubtedly in some grand building surrounded by dozens of people who would fall over themselves to cater to his every whim, and Remus hiding out in his eight square meter bedroom cluttered with textbooks and scribbled notes. “I get why you do it. I'm probably terribly biased,” he lets out a brief laugh. “But I think the songs you wrote when we were together, and even after we just broke up, are your best songs, so I get that you would want to release them, to share them with the world and show everyone once again just how bloody talented you are. And you have every right. They're your works, your creations. But gods, Sirius, I can't pretend anymore.”

“Pretend,” Sirius repeats, his voice almost a whisper, and Remus lets it all out.

“I can't pretend anymore that hearing those songs everywhere I go all the damn time doesn't make me want to die! That it doesn't just break me, to hear your voice sing those words, knowing what they once meant, and knowing that they don't mean that anymore! That you don't mean that anymore.”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupts sharply, and Remus immediately stops talking as Sirius speaks. “Do you really think I could sing those words like that, if I didn't still feel that way?”

And Remus’ breath catches in his throat.

#famous sirius black #singer sirius black #post breakup #academic remus lupin #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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boriwave · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 | 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐗 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Not my best work but not my worst either. This is the first piece I manage to finish to write in a while so I decided to post it, it's pretty short though. I was going to add more to it but I got a terrible headache in the middle of it, plus it's more of a vent piece so this is all I could cook up. By the way, English isn't my first language so apologies if it's a little wonky to read, still hope you enjoy it though 🫶

“Could you please just listen for once?”

“I am listening.”

“You’re not, you say you are but you’re not.” It was exhausting, giving every piece of your heart to someone you loved, but not receiving the same effort back.

It wasn’t that Simon didn’t love you, he does, God knows he does. The problem was that he loved silently and from afar, being content with keeping his words of affection to himself while you drowned in a sea of loneliness and resentment.

Because you didn’t love like him. Simon knew you didn’t and, yet, he didn’t care.

The sound of keys and a lock being undone echoed down the hallway of your apartment, followed by an old door screaming in pain as it was forced open to allow entry to the owners of the cheap room, before being closed and locked once more.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t bring it up anymore.” Simon grumbled as he flickered the lights on. You haven’t even broached the conversation for more than two minutes and he was already annoyed with you.

A heavy sigh left Simon’s lips as he grasped the end of his skull balaclava, slipping the fabric off his face to reveal those scarred features and the black paint over his eyes. It’s been a long day, too long for comfort, and Simon was exhausted. He certainly didn’t want to fight over the glaring issue of lack of intimacy, care and attention that had cursed your relationship since day one. His blue eyes shifted from the fabric his fingers were clutching, to the barely contained frustration on your face, illuminated by the dim lights that barely illuminated the room, the bulb old and wasted, the same one he’d promise to replace time and time again.

You were patient, too patient.

“Love, listen, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll try harder.” Simon sighed while throwing his mask on the nearby leather couch before approaching your form on the other side of the living room. His footsteps were slow and cautious, to give you time to move out of his inevitable embrace if you so wished to. When you didn’t, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried into the crook of your neck. “It’s just…hard for me, okay? I don’t want you to feel like I don’t desire you because I do, God only knows the thoughts that run through my mind when you’re not around.”

“Do you really?” Your skeptical tone filled the little space left between your bodies. You didn’t return the hug, not this time, refusing to be swept by the same words he repeated like a well-trained parrot when the time came to hold this same conversation every three months. You just wished it didn’t take half a decade for you to grow a backbone instead of falling to your knees whenever he started with another one of his half-baked excuses.

“I do.” A scoff left your lips as you rolled your eyes. Bullshit, you replied in your mind.

“Then why don’t you show it? Simon, why is it up to me to always start everything?” “Come on, love, you know that’s not true.” Simon replied, his hold on you faltering for a second as annoyance began to take hold. He wouldn’t lose his cool, not now— he wasn’t that kind of man anymore. “Honey, all I need is a little bit more-”

“Patience?” You cut him off while pulling away from his embrace. Simon could only nod while giving a heavy sigh. “Yes, patience.” He replied like it was obvious.

“Why? Haven’t I been patient enough?”

“Because I’m not used to this relationship shit, you know that, you knew what you were getting into when we first started dating!” Simon exclaimed a little too loud than intended, clenching his hands so hard his nails left behind crescent shapes in the rough skin of his palms. He was as frustrated as you were, exhausted from the same argument, but not enough to change.

You grit your teeth and hold back the words that burnt your tongue, but you didn’t bother replying this time, deciding that the growing headache that blossomed between your eyes deserved more attention than this loop of a conversation. Your legs carried you past Simon and into the kitchen where you swung open a tattered cabinet. Pushing past old mail and expired bottles of countless different pills, your fingers finally brushed against a large, white bottle with a red cap. You popped open the bottle and pulled out three of the small, red and blue pills before placing it on your tongue and swallowing them with the help of the excess saliva that built up in your mouth.

When did things become so…wrong? When did loving Simon start to seem like a chore instead of coming as natural as breathing or blinking? You should have left during the first year of your relationship, when your first big fight happened after finding those compromising messages in his phone; but him and his sweet words, and that stupid charming smile with the empty I love yous helped to put on that veil over your eyes and disconnect the wires in your brain so you wouldn’t see that you deserved better.

If only he didn’t know about the pain and frustration you felt, and the countless nights you were up crying so hard until you couldn’t breath. If he didn’t know, you would gladly keep your mouth shut and make up excuses after excuses for the times he’s spent at work instead of by your side, or the times he’s made you feel unwanted and gross in your own skin; but he knew. Of course he knew, you might have grown blind to his red flags but not mute.

You let out a deep breath, two, maybe three, until the anger that boiled inside you turned into a slow simmer. It was enough to bring yourself to look at Simon from over your shoulder, who stood by the archway, and held a glint of regret and guilt in those stormy blue eyes of his.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He tried to say, just for his words to be waved out the kitchen window. “Come on, don’t be like that, I really am sorry.”

No matter how much you cried, how much you screamed and yelled, your words never seemed to reach him, going inside one ear and going out the other in a vicious cycle you were too tired to break out of and escape. Because, at the end of the day, you’d only set up a three month timer, tie that veil over your eyes and pray to whatever God was out there to finally change things or give you the strength necessary to get up and leave.

“Just forget I said anything, okay?” You mumbled in defeat, your shoulders slumping in defeat like they always did when talking to him.

Simon paused for a brief second before parting his lips to utter those words you’ve grown to hate so much. “I love you, [Name], so much.”

“...I know, Simon, I know.”

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #light angst #oneshot #vent piece #call of duty #ghost x reader #gender neutral reader #short reads

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tiredfox64 · 1 month

Text

Little Red, Big Bad Chaos

Prior notes: Ah yes look at me use my homework for a piece of fanfic. Let me just forget how I connected Little Red Cap to being about womanhood (I bet it ain’t but my professor just wanted an analysis essay)

Pairing: Havik x Afab Reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, semi public sex or nature sex (one with the trees), dry humping, biting (I know I never stop), creampie, nipple play, pain (like the good kind but only a bit)

Havik was pent up. Not even causing chaos or killing anybody made him feel relief. There had to be a different way to handle this. Luckily for him, you walked by.

Aren’t you just a pretty lady. And all by yourself? With such a red, velvet cloak that makes you stand out no less. Oh dear, you must be careful. Stay on the path and don’t talk to strangers. For if you should do so, you may well provide relief for an anarchist.

Collecting things from the nearby woods was enjoyable to you. That could be rocks, moss, flowers, herbs, mushrooms, maybe even frogs. So much to do. But unbeknownst to you, there was something dangerous lurking around, or someone. You heard the crunching of leaves and twigs behind you which made you turn around. No one comes around here, it’s usually just you.

You gasped once you saw Havik. His face was…mutilated. He seemed so tall. There were so many sharp objects on his body. He approached you slowly as if you were a deer ready to bolt away. He couldn’t have that happen, he needs you close.

“Aww, don’t be afraid. I just want to get a closer look at you.” You heard him speak in such a deep, gravely voice.

You flinched just hearing him speak. You froze up, unsure of how to handle this. Closer and closer he came. You started to see the scars on his body and just how messed up his face was. How could he still be alive you wondered.

“Who are you?” You asked with a quivering voice.

He just laughed at you with such a maniacal laugh. It made you even more uneasy yet you still wouldn’t more.

“Don’t worry about that. You will know of me very soon. I just want to get a good look at how pretty you are.”

You swallowed hard as Havik came right up to you. You had to look up at him that’s how tall he was. The only way you could think of get out of this is by acting polite.

“Oh well, thank you. You seem like a very…handsome man. But I must get going now.” You tried to excuse yourself.

Havik didn’t move but just stared as you walked away. He was already planning ways to get close to you. Real close to you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You still walked the same path, but you tried to ignore Havik. Sometimes he would speak, sometimes he would stay quiet. He’d walk behind you with a bit of distance. You felt like you were being hunted but maybe ignoring him more will do the trick. Ehh, not really. I mean in a way you almost started seeing him like a stray dog. He seems so vicious but will start to randomly follow you.

He was way too pent up by this point. It’s amazing he has some patience and strength to hold himself back from pouncing on you. The thing is he can’t risk scaring you away. You’re the only one who didn’t run away and never return after seeing him. You’re the easiest prey and that’s all he needs.

You spot something on that ground that you can add to your collection, some other smooth rock or even an Indigo Milk Cap. You made the mistake of bending over to collect your newest addition to your collection. That’s when you felt a pair of hands grab your hips. Any guesses on who those hands belong to?

You didn’t even flinch or stand back up. At this point you expected behavior like that. You just kept ignoring Havik and collected your items. But you couldn’t ignore when you felt him start to hump you. He really was like a dog.

Because you didn’t react, Havik thought he could do whatever. He took that opportunity to give himself relief. His clothed cock rubbed against your ass. Havik needed much more than that but this will have to do for now. You could hear him groaning as he continued to hump you. Alright, probably a good time to say something. You brought yourself back up to a standing position before speaking.

“Is there something you need?” You asked as politely as you could.

“Isn’t it obvious.” He answered, plain and simple.

He could have at least responded a little nicer. But you were left thinking of what to do. If this is what he’s been wanting well what would happen if you just gave him what he wants? He could keep returning to you for more. But he could also leave you be after he gets what he wants. The next time he gets pent up maybe the usual stuff like causing chaos will actually relieve him. You’re weighting your options here that you just say fuck it. No one needs to know what you have done.

“Are you trying to get more out of me?” You asked yet you received no verbal reply. Instead Havik decided to just bend you over again and tried to tear off any piece of clothing he could.

“Alright wait-!”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your beautiful red, velvet cloak laid nicely folded on a tree stump with your basket of items on top of it. That’s the only thing you could manage to take off nicely before Havik got impatient and just teared whatever he could.

The woods are usually filled with leaves rustling and the birds chirping. But now there is the addition of moans, groans, and skin slapping together.

You held onto the tree in front of you as Havik rammed into you. His hands gripped your ass as he watched his cock go in and out of your pussy. His eyes couldn’t look away from your wetness that coated his cock. How easy it slipped in and made a wet sound when being pulled out.

You’re not fully regretting this decision. It is pretty exciting being out in nature and having you being pounded into. And Havik did have an impressive size. You practically announced it to the flora when you saw it. You’re only regretting who you are doing it with. Havik is still a stranger to you. But you can easy forget that every time he slides back in.

His body was pressed up against yours as his hands went to grab your breasts. You groaned at the feel of it. His hands were so rough, especially the one that had some sort of clawed glove on it. The claws pricked at your skin before going to your nipples. You winced in pain when he pinched them yet somehow it excited you more. Maybe cause he never stopped fucking you that’s why you got wetter. Whatever it was Havik enjoyed your reactions, even letting out a low malicious laugh. One nipple felt the roughness of his skin rubbing against it while the other dealt with metal claws pinching it. What a combo.

“I’ve never seen someone react like that to pain. I wonder if you will like this.” Havik said before pulling you closer to him and biting down on your shoulder.

That was the loudest you moaned from the whole experience. You couldn’t hide that fact you were loving this. Your pussy squeezed his cock when he bit you.

Havik might have just found his perfect lady. He was way too excited at this point and just start pounding into you hard. It was too much for you. His teeth that sunk into your skin, his hands still playing with your nipples, and of course his large cock fucking you. Well how could you not cum all over it. And how could he not cum right inside you. It’s just how nature goes.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It took a bit of effort to get Havik to pull out of you. He did not wanna budge. He didn’t say it out loud but he wanted to keep his cum inside of you for as long as he could. When you did manage to make him pull out his cum slowly start to drip down your legs, forcing you to quickly put your pants back on.

The prick tore your clothes up a good amount. He was too impatient. Luckily, you still had your red cloak to cover yourself up with. Better cover up that bite mark. You did your best not to look so disheveled and like you just had sex in the woods.

“Well…I must be on my way. You have a good day.” You still acted polite with Havik even after that experience.

He watched as you slowly walked away. You will return to the same path. This path is the best place to find items for your collection, so why move. Plus, you are hoping to find Havik again someday. Maybe not soon but someday. And Havik has the same thing in mind. He got his relief and he doesn’t expect to get this certain craving for a long time. But damn did he love your reactions. He’ll return soon and enjoy his lady in red again.

After notes: …if I see a hint of orange come rolling in I’m scattering to the wind…🦊. Ah, got to the end and realized I ain’t learn anything in my analysis class, I am scum. Anyway I’m meal prepping these fanfics cause I gotta work on my Kobold. I hope I can please the Havik girlies with this. He gives me post ovulation clarity and I don’t even ovulate, I’m not broken just on the pill. Have fun fools. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat1 #mk x reader #mk x you #mk smut #mk fanfic #havik #mk havik #mortal kombat havik #havik x reader #havik x you #havik smut #mk1

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rozcdust · 2 years

Text

I don’t speak to whores

Pairing: Bonten x AroAce!GN!Reader

Genre: Crack, SMAU

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Canon divergent, profanity, ooc, whore behaviour, NO ROMANCE, just reader bullying Bonten

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

Was feeding him a PB&J sandwich necessary?

Probably not.

It was fun though.

Just as you were picking up your papers to go to the meeting you had scheduled. Mikey stormed into your office as if God himself was whipping him, slamming his hands on the table with all of his tiny, yet powerful fury.

Now thinking about it, he definitely seemed like the type to be into that shit.

You merely stared at his piercing, void-like eyes, trying to figure out where, when, and most importantly, if you fucked up.

Maybe he figured out you were the one to feed that PB&J sandwich to a severely allergic Ran.

“Is it true you made Ran throw his own flowers in the dumpster?!” Through his breathless, heavy gasps, the sentence came out more as a single word.

You cocked your head.

“Yes? Is that a problem?”

The loud slam of one of his credit card on your desk made you jump.

Who knew something so tiny could move so fast?

Especially something that looked as if it were poorly taxidermied.

“This is your bonus, you are golden, I love you.”

You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“The card has 10 million yen on it. Do you want more? I can get you more. Actually, now that you mentioned it, you should get more. Let me just-“

Without even giving you a chance to speak, or finishing his own sentence, the small menace rushed put of your office, his mumbles of ‘Needing to go to an ATM’ still audible from down the corridor.

You blinked at the card.

You could swear it blinked back.

“Well, aren’t you truly beautiful.” A voice you can best describe as nails on a particularly moldy chalkboard pierced your ears, unfortunately drawing your attention to a particularly gruesome creature.

He looked like a fucking jellyfish hybrid born out of human hubris and misery, the awful mop of what he probably called ‘hair’ sitting on his head unpleasantly.

Do people consider this attractive?

“Hello.” Stoically, you greeted, disinterested and already tired of everything regarding this damn job.

Mikey made all these men seem like the Boogie Man, a terrifying yet constant presence, inevitable and permanent in their goal to make everyone around them fail.

Mikey was truly giving them more credit than they’re due, because all these bitches were is exhausting.

The fore-mentioned creature flashed a smile, softly taking your hand into his palm and kissing the top of it, his well-manicured nails digging into the sides of your palm.

Is this considered cute?

You’ve seen cockroaches cuter than this.

Suppressing a gag all while smiling a tight, uncomfortable smile, you wrestled your hand out of his ungodly grasp and plopped on one of the free chairs, next to a slim, decently aesthetically pleasing pink-haired man with scars, hoping he will leave you be.

Wrong.

Again.

You should start a Bingo card.

“Hello!” Energetically, he spun towards your direction, the chair producing an ear-piercing squeak as he got way too close to your face, “I’m Sanzu!”

Oh.

The spawn of Satan.

Great.

“Hello to you too.”

“Baby, you’re hot, I just may fall in love.” Beaming a smile your way, he tilted his head, his hand sneaking to rest around your shoulders, making your skin crawl the same way worms will through his rotting flesh if he puts his filthy hands anywhere close to your goddamn body again.

Thank God for rule number three.

Physical violence is encouraged.

And that is just what you did.

As minutes ticked by, incredibly slow if you may add, more people trickled in, all faces unfamiliar but two, one belonging to the slutty little bitch man from a few days ago, and the other to Kakucho, who you have decided to label ‘depression incarnate’, purely off the permanently sour expression on his otherwise pleasant face.

And finally, Mikey.

Just as he opened his mouth to shush his little rodents, you made a mental note to tell him his hair is an abomination.

The meeting was a fucking disaster.

If you had paper-thin patience before, the blond catboy has successfully managed to shave it down to an electron-thin slice of pure rage.

You had one job, one *fucking* job, present your shit, tell them they’re idiots - a Mikey approved method - and be the fuck out of there.

But no.

The capitalistic catboy had to interrupt you constantly, an irritating crescendo of “Sorry, may I just add really quickly-“, “Sorry sweetheart, let me-“, “Sorry, but this chart-“ almost making your ears bleed.

You could feel your blood pressure rising by the milisecond.

Hands crossed, foot tapping with impatience, you tried to finish your report in a polite manner.

“So to conclude your schedules-“

Of course the human embodiment of a Persian cat couldn’t even let you do that.

“Sorry to interrupt, but may I-“

That was it, your patience left you, dead and departed to chase wild buffalo in prairies of some better worlds.

Your face twisted into a sardonic, wrathful smile.

“I am almost done, let me just get this done, and then I’ll leave the podium all up to you.”

He tilted his head, his dead, irisless eyes staring deep into your soul.

Mikey said this was the romantic one?

Mikey clearly has no fucking idea what the hell is he talking about.

To be fair, neither did you, but you knew the definition of the word, and it did not include whatever the fuck this dude was snorting.

“Kokonoi-san, I am almost done.”

“But-“

The electron got split into a fucking particle, and with a perfectly sweet, professional voice, you picked your words carefully.

“Kokonoi-san” You placed your hands on the table, leaning towards him, with a sickly sweet smile, “This is your last warning. When you’ll have to deal with 8 idiots, then you may speak.”

The fucker leaned right back, an even sweeter smile on his stupid, horrifying face.

“You think I am scared of you?”

“Actually, yes, as all of you combined have the time management of a dead gerbil, without someone managing your time as if I were your goddamn mommy, you’d all be swamped and get nothing done in this godforsaken gang. I recommend you shut you mouth, let me talk, and listen. I can see your fucking browser history, you know?”

The flash of horror on his face gave you an incredible amount of satisfaction.

Straightening your back out, your cold gaze passed all of them.

“Any more complaints?”

Silence.

“I asked a question.”

You were met with a unison of muttered no’s.

“Excellent, so to circle back to Rindou’s schedule-“

Two days passed in relative silence.

Only two fucking days.

But you can’t have shit in this goddamn workplace, now can you?

You’ve seen feral hogs better behaved than these motherfuckers.

“Hey, y/n, I brought you these reports.” Blondie barged into your office, without even knocking, naturally, and with a cocky sway in his walk, he laid the papers on your desk, straightening them out meticulously.

You don’t know what it was about him, but you had a bone-deep desire to break his fucking jawbone.

You refused even look up at him, merely nodding instead, as it was your break and you were too busy complaining to your best friend about how annoying your coworkers were to pay the resident catboy cosplayer any mind.

What a fucking joke.

Kokonoi, for whatever godforsaken reason, stood by the damn desk, not moving a muscle, barely even breathing, still waiting on you to pay him a crumb of attention.

Not happening until that damn clock hits noon.

Minutes ticked by.

Your best friend sent their condolences just as the clock at the top of your screen spelled out the end of your break, and with a heavy sigh, and finally giving up, you laid your phone on the desk, glancing in the general direction of Mr. Krabs.

And there was a Burkin bag right on your desk, for whatever reason.

You stared at the bag.

It stared back.

You finally looked up at the man.

“We kinda got off on the wrong foot,” He sheepishly smiled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I want to give you this. As a peace offering. It’d fit your aesthetic well.” Shrugging, his previous humility was replaced by a smug smile.

Your face didn’t move a muscle.

On one hand, Mikey said to never accept gifts.

On the other…

This was fucking expensive.

And would sell great on e-Bay.

“That is very kind of you. Apology accepted.” Leaning your elbows on the desk as your fingers interlaced, you offered a polite smile, nodding your head.

His smugness only grew.

“I’m glad. I hope we can work together for a long* time.”

“I hope the same, Koko.”

“So would you like to go out to dinner sometime? As coworkers, of course, I’d like to meet you a little better.“

Raising an eyebrow, you looked him up and down, repeating it numerous times over.

“Well I don’t really think that’d be quite professional…”

“Oh come on, my treat, I’m sure we’ll get along great.” He laughed, playfully sticking his tongue out.

Leaning back into the comfort of your chair, you started filing your nails.

“I’m allergic to food.”

“What?” Kokonoi blinked, all of his previous mischief stopping to a halt.

You nodded, looking away, a look of deep sorrow marring your face.

“Yes, it is in fact a very serious condition.”

“Wait, so, how do you stay alive? Like, how aren’t you dead?”

“Photosynthesis.”

🔖Taglist (closed):

@1818cigarettes @nana-phobia @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @m0rrax @levistiddies @bxnten @spookygeto @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @crybabylisa @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @gigibobigi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @bontenacious @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @aurel1ia @nahoyas-nymph @one-green-frog @justrandomlypassing @kio-kookie @haikyuu-simps-assemble @arlecchino-n-scara-k @ayhashi @mOrl @tiredlattes @jeagerslutx @hayamirinrin @crown5 @medusalovessnakes @bblyerim @ohnoyouareasimp @sakinotfound @syddisheep @barcelona-sergei @solliver05 @ricecake23 @ayamvirus @vanillaashakee (second tag list in comments. in bold are those who tumblr won’t let me tag. my apologies!)

suggested by: @nahoyas-nymph

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #bonten #kakucho hitto #ran haitani #manjiro sano #rindou haitani #sanzu akashi #bonten x reader #kokonoi hajime

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sonicasura · 1 month

Text

Let's be honest with ourselves that Transformers Earthspark has its issues. It isn't uncommon for the series to have a few messy iterations throughout the years. However those at least have something going for them.

Bayverse is a junk pile yet there's a lot of material you can build off on and some pretty interesting concepts. RiD15 is an awful sequel to Prime but does decently well as a standalone although there are much needed changes to be had. Earthspark... Well, it's just there.

I can be lenient with the plot holes and poor pacing as Nickelodeon is notorious for interfering with any show that isn't SpongeBob to the point of cancellation. The issues truly land on the characters themselves. I'm gonna try to simplify it without devolving into a rant like the previous draft.

Edit: Gonna add some further edits as I wrote this in the middle of the night. Plus my simplified version skipped some key details.

Robby. Somehow they made a human character I actually dislike instead of be neutral about. In the official Transformers wiki, he's labeled as a big brother who cares for his siblings but his actions so far say otherwise. Robby literally ran away in the first episode because they moved then decided to try and hide the Terrans from his parents.

Yet he rarely gets enough consequences for his actions. I think we don't just need less Emberstone saves not just because of plot armor but force actual character growth on him. Like a life changing to one of his siblings as consequences for his actions and strained relationship until he gets his head outta his ass.

Edit: Yes, I know Robby is a teenager but that isn't a decent enough excuse for his behavior. Seen the trope about big brothers who do act closed off or at some points rude but they haven't done shit that put their family in serious danger. No, I didn't try to purposely forget the times he was injured badly.

There honestly needs to be less of those and his consequences be adjusted to it affects someone else badly. *

Next issue is lacking confrontation with Optimus choices alongside the obvious misplaced trust in the 13 Primes. Quintus Prime literally emotionally manipulated and scarred Mo through a fake bad ending reality because she doubted herself. No good person would do that, much less an actual ally. Even moreso on a child.

I seen this shit in Trollhunters but at least Jim, the main character, was a teenager. (It still was wrong though.) We also got remember that Liege Maximo and Megatronus/The Fallen are Primes. Yet somehow it is best to trust them.

Don't get me started with some of Optimus' choices when it comes to GHOST. He probably did it to protect his Autobots but what about the Decepticons who are locked away? Why are there so little of his companions with him especially since Bumblebee had fucking went into hiding before the show began.

There needs to be tension between Optimus with his Autobots. Someone is bound to snap and Bumblebee would have the biggest impact. The man clearly isn't okay as he's doing things that even Megatron admits ain't like him.

Mandroid needs to be written differently. He has the making of a sympathetic villain but oh boy. First off it is clear that his depiction is ableist aligned since the reason he doesn't like Cybertronians is because he lost his arm. Major thing to change right there.

Give him a narrative where his interest been genuine but slowly declines as the Autobot/Decepticon war increases the number of destroyed lives. Let him become a victim to this than just 'I lost my arm so death alongside experimentation to all Cybertronians'. Also don't make Mandroid ignore the obvious fact that the Transformers parts he puts into his body is slowly poisoning and instead come up with ways to fight the infection. Kinda like in Ironman 2 where Tony's arc reactor began to do the same thing.

Edit: Mandroid's negative views on Cybertronians are about the war and he's aware of the Energon poisoning. It is just that it is poorly portrayed to the point you rarely see it over his Arachnamechs/his ruined life.

Have the man present various evidence of destruction the war caused by both sides at the Malto children or anonymously spread such info around town to sew discontent with the townsfolk. 'These are the people who you consider heroes. Who you see as family and friends. Or should these tragedies be forgotten?'

Do a Baxter Stockman where you frequently see him try to fix the Energon poisoning than just simple dialogue. Even have testing on organic subjects to see how they react and find ways to counter it. Don't keep these key points as simple dialogue. *

I don't think Karen needs much changes either. 'But her taking over Cybertron doesn't make sense!' It actually does for one reason: hubris. Have you ever seen what happens when you give a control freak power? Their behavior becomes more erratic as they begin to think they deserve more. She is xenophobic in nature so imprisoning Decepticons and ordering around the Autobots is a drug to her.

Karen wants to treat them like slaves so the next step in her mind is Cybertron. Her death is well deserved and well played. Just like Icarus, the bitch flew too close to the sun.

I think the last major issue, other than out of character racist Shockwave, is the Terrans. No offense but they need a bit less screentime so the rest of the cast can shine. We barely see Alex and there's unclarified issues involving Bumblebee with Arcee if he's uncomfortable around her.

I also want their flaws to be at the forefront. Thrash is the only one who gotten such character development from his encounter with Swindle. We need more of that! Like Hashtag's overreliance on the Internet biting her back as she is forced to use real world skills.

Edit: I accidentally put in Terrans when I really meant Twitch. The screentime for everyone needs to be balanced mainly for the Malto family. Alex alongside the three younger Terrans rarely get involved or their characters further build upon. Twitch needs to get benched more.

Also the Dad Number 2 should really be addressed. Wheeljack was clearly uncomfortable when it been brought up. Plus it is way too fast to even consider such ideas unless you plan to have it addressed properly. Like 'Kid. We barely know each other yet somehow I became a father figure in an instant? It's best not to do that until you truly certain "Dad Number 2" doesn't mean harm or feels comfortable with it.' *

Earthspark clearly has potential but these problems need to be handled better. Addong the deleted scenes help add some clarification but canon needs to present it. We are supposed to get a second season so hopefully some of these are addressed.

#sonicasura #maccadam #transformers #transformers series #transformers earthspark #tf #tf series #tf es #tfes #personal idea #rambles #tv shows #slight rant #personal review #fixing canon #canon divergence #character flaws

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xxavengingangelxx · 6 months

Text

Somewhere Only We Know 3/?

Part threeeee! I feel kind iffy about this one. Smurt starts so MDNI! 18+ I feel like the smut is not my best work but there will definitely be more smut in the future chapters :)

Taglist! @bellgraves, @unicorngirly1, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you'd like to be added, lemme know! ;)

Val feels like she has no choice but to return to Shadow Company for numerous reasons.

EDIT: Forgot to add! Q and A. Will Graves get more affectionate? I've gotten that question a LOOOT. Yes. But like all men he just found out and is a little overwhelmed 😉

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Price excused himself to take a phone call. Someone had called him three times back-to-back.

You knew who it was didn’t you?

Price wasn’t allowed to wander off very far. That small wing of the hospital you were in had been sealed off. No one enters or exits except for the police and the military.

Your suspicion was confirmed so were you really surprised when you heard Graves’s voice on the other end of that phone? Years of explosions and gunfire didn’t allow Price to turn the volume low enough that your younger, less exposed ears couldn’t pick it up. And because of how close the perimeter of that hospital wing was you heard every…word.

“Price,” Graves’s voice was tight, on-edge, dangerous and you wondered if someone had pissed him off right before.

“Graves,” Price spat back. “Was beginnin’ ta think Laswell had finally approved that airstrike you were nothin’ but ashes.”

“Haha,”

“Sorry,” Price added, “but I constant’ly fantasize about ya dying.”

“Knock this shit off,” Graves warned. “You have two people I’m interested in.” Graves paused before adding, “One I haven’t quite met yet.”

Price’s silence told you he was in shock.

Why did Graves sound so fucking terrifying today?

“Bloody ‘ell,” Price gasped. “How’d you—”

“I have eyes everywhere,” Graves said darkly. “A thing you might not know about southern culture, ya Brit. We like to keep our families together.”

“And you see Val as family? She’s not your wife ya fuckin’ psycho’.”

“No, she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

And you don’t know why that line made your breath catch in your throat. You knew Graves was obsessed with you but what exactly did he mean by that?

“You’re such a sick fuck,”

“Get her back to me.”

“I can’t override an arrest warrant,” Price shot back.

“Figure it out,” Graves snapped. “Or Makarov wins and World War III starts. I have the money and the connections to hide me and my family. Do you?”

You didn’t know you were still crying until the tears rolled down your face as a female soldier (no, not a police officer but a soldier) patted you down. The UK military was pissed enough to detain you because you’d released the codes to 141’s homing beacons. You had denied torture and refused to say anything against Graves or Shepherd. So they saw it as you betrayed 141 and willingly gave them up. You and Graves had worked together that night, hadn’t you? At least that’s what it looked like on the outside looking in. All the digging they’d done had revealed hushed secrets of how you two had been inappropriately involved with each other pretty much since you’d met.

You had mugshots taken for the first time in your life. They took pictures of every visible scar. You wondered why this wasn’t done at the detention facility and you were told it was in case you or someone who fancied you just happened to bust you out from the facility or even got to you before you even got there. So they’d have pictures of you to show the world and help re-capture you.

You were given a bulletproof vest because you’d made the news and had been labeled a traitor. You were loathed. There had been threats on your life. The news loves making people look horrible don’t they? You wondered if the news knew about your situation. Graves knew. And you really didn’t know how to feel about that. You couldn’t even get away from him by being arrested and detained.

You were never going to get away from Graves were you? You didn’t exactly hate it, though. But it also scared you, didn’t it?

You were chained like you were some outlaw (you kinda were though, weren’t you?). The fact that you could pick handcuffs and liked swing at authority figures had gotten around and so your cuffs were anchored to a chain around your waist. Not too tight. They didn’t want you, a sue-happy American, to sue them if you just so happened to lose that pregnancy.

“You’re really gonna let yourself get locked up instead of sayin’ somethin’, anythin’ against that son of a bitch?” Price asked.

“Just watch out for Graves and Shepherd, Captain,” you stated. “He might like me. But he won’t think twice about killing you. Make sure you and your boys stay safe.”

“You make it sound like you’re sacrificin’ yaself.”

“I can keep him distracted just enough.”

The sunlight was bright and it reminded you of how much you hated sunny days. The noise was overwhelming. News crews, people shouting at you, calling you a traitor. So you just glanced down, using your hair to hide your face. 141, for all you had done against them in the last 3 months, shielded you as best as they could.

Soap even pulled your hood over your head and you almost cried at the kindness of it. Also, pregnancy hormones.

It was cold.

You were about to be put into a military vehicle when a familiar voice, a demanding voice, told them to stop and turn around.

It was impossible to understand what was being said outside with all the noise. So you all went back inside, into the warmth of the hospital.

Granted you couldn’t move much. Cuffs anchored to your waist and leg irons. That thin bulletproof vest was tight on you, straps drawn snug. Graves indeed hadn’t been lying that they were going to treat you like a fucking prisoner, a good for nothing. And that was one of the reasons you kept your faith in Graves. You were weirdly bonded to him. You didn’t love him and you were sure he didn’t love you. But it seemed like you both were stuck together for the time being.

Maybe forever. You were obsessed. Maybe just as much as he was. Maybe a little less, though.

But the man here in person? General Shepherd.

“Graves told me what happened,” Shepherd stated. He removed his sunglasses.

“It’s none of yer business,” Price snapped.

“No, it is because she’s mine.”

“No, your Shadow piece o’ shit kidnapped ‘er. And now he’s fuckin’ stalkin’ her.”

“We had reason to believe she was collaborating with Hassan as she was the only one we found. Wandering all alone.” Shepherd paused before adding, “Like an abandoned puppy. That’s the term Graves used. And abandoned puppies need new homes, don’t they?”

Price full on growled. “Thas’ some bullshit excuse ya have. It won’t make sense on paper.”

“But it will,” Shepherd grinned that shit-eating grin he had. It was the same grin you imagined him having when Graves took that initial hostage video all those months ago. “And it did,”

Price was handed papers. What they said you couldn’t read. The print was too small.

“Val here was abandoned by her task force. We took her in, interrogated her, revealed she had nothin’ to hide.” Price signaled at the documents in Price’s hands, shaking with anger. “We did not, under any condition torture her.”

Shepherd looked at you, smirking before adding, “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“They didn’t hurt me,” you confirmed. You lied. You lied to protect Shepherd, Shadow Company, and most importantly, Graves. Something deep inside told you this would not be the last time lying for them. If this shit was brought to court or congress, you’d keep lying to protect Graves without a second thought.

“Val, ser’ously?” Price glared and if looks could kill, Shepherd would’ve died on the spot.

“She’s been with Shadows for 3 months. She’s mine now.” Shepherd demanded. “Hand ‘er over,”

“She’s not goin’ with ya,” Soap snapped. “Ya’ll done enough.”

“Don’t make me get my boys. You sure as fuck don’t want me getting Graves. He’s pissed. Has been. And when he’s mad he gets trigger happy.” Shepherd smirked. “Now go on ahead and get Graves’s little miss outta those cuffs. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Don’t why ya’ll would treat a lady like that.”

“You’ve lost your mind…again, Gen’ral,” Price snapped. “She’s lookin’ at a court martial. US and UK want her here.”

“Let me put it in simpler terms for you,” That smirk never left Shepherd’s face. “Give me the girl. Give me my soldier or we all lose.”

“You don’t have to go with him,” Price muttered from next to you. “We can get a court to look at this,” He signaled at the pages which you still hadn’t bothered to try reading. “You have a choice,”

“I want Graves,” you said confidently.

The police officer, a new one, looked at Price, his gaze asking what he should do. Release, not release? Detain?

“You’re gonna go back to the company that fucked you up so bad you tried to kill ya’self?” Price paused before adding, “Is’ not jus’ about jus’ you anymore, Val. You have someone else to think about. Don’t do this.”

You shrugged. Because it really was. The bond you had with Graves was intense. Plus, you’d stay out of prison. You did have a child to think about. And the last fucking thing you wanted was you in prison in the UK, Graves in prison in the US, and your child in that horrible foster care system. You’d run before you let that happen.

“We’ll get them after all this, Val,” Price muttered so only you could hear. “They’ll rot in prison.”

“Release her. Now.” Shepherd demanded of the officer. “They’ve removed her AWOL status and transferred her to Shadow.”

“You better sleep with one eye open, mate,” were the last words Price said to Shepherd before you walked out of that hospital with said general free of restraints.

Shepherd didn’t say much in the truck. At least not at first. You rubbed your wrists because they cuffs on your wrists had been on too damn tight.

It was you and Shepherd. That was it. You wondered where Graves was. “You’ve done good work, soldier. Graves asked for you by name. Pulled a few strings and got this done because Graves is my best.”

You didn’t say a word. You’d thanked him earlier anyway. Well, that is except to ask, “Where’s Graves?”

“A safehouse,” Shepherd responded. “What’d you tell ‘em, soldier?”

“Nothing, sir.” You responded. “They threatened me with prison but I didn’t say shit. Respectfully.”

“We’ll pull the hospital records,”

“I’ve nothing to hide, sir.”

Shepherd paused before adding, “Don’t disappoint my top man,” Shepherd warned. “He’s gonna be your Shadow for the rest of your life. Told me he’s not letting you go.”

“No, sir. I won’t, sir.”

“He asks you to get on your knees, your response is how low, understand?”

“Yessir,” you felt like he was selling you to Graves.

“Ya ever thought about letting him fuck a kid into ya?”

Your head snapped to look in his direction next to you. Did he know?

“Would be nice to leave all this to family,” Shepherd stated simply. He saw you as something to be used. Was that why he’d said all those months ago he wanted you specifically working for them? A female? A female Shepherd knew Graves had a thing for?

Shepherd chuckled that cold laugh before adding, “I know ya’ll been fuckin’ since you met pretty much. He’s been obsessed with you.”

Was he kidding? And at that second something deep inside you told you Graves might like that you’re carrying his kid. There was no getting away from him now, was there? Even if you wanted to. Where the hell did you think you were going to hide with his kid?

“No offense, sir,” you replied after catching your breath, “That’s not why we—”

“That’s it’s God-given purpose,” he interrupted. “He’d be perfect.”

Who--? Hell, Shepherd was already obsessed with the kid and Shepherd didn’t even know the kid existed. Right? And you didn’t like that, not one bit.

“Product of two of my best soldiers, raised by Shadows, in the field.”

You weren’t sure if Shepherd took your ensuing silence as a form of defiance or as a form of acceptance.

You wished it was just you. Just you going back to Graves, no kid. But you were stuck now, weren’t you? You didn’t think your IUD would fail. But it did. You had less than a one percent chance of getting pregnant but here you were. And that was why you’d made that decision, amongst other reasons, sure. The decision to keep him. Him because you felt it was a boy.

Because maybe while you distracting Graves wasn’t enough, maybe you and his kid would distract Graves enough for him to leave 141 alone.

You just hated an innocent life was involved.

“Did you really raise that much hell?” Graves’s voice from behind you light a fire under your heart. He must’ve noticed your brief injuries.

“You told me to raise hell so I did,”

“Atta girl,” Graves smirked.

You couldn’t help it. You reached out and hugged him, gear and all.

And surprisingly?

He hugged back.

“Good ‘ta have you back,” Graves said, his voice tickling your hair as he rested his chin on your head.

You hoped into a hot shower the second you could. You scratched your skin raw trying to get those tape marks off your arms from when the hospital had started an IV sedated you that one day. You had tape marks all up and down your arms from all the times they’d drawn blood, marks around your wrists from the handcuffs and restraints.

“Don’t make yourself bleed, darlin,’” Graves chided. He’d been watching you through the clear glass shower door.

“I want it off,” you almost pouted.

He was naked when he joined you and you couldn’t help but eye him up and down shamelessly. He did the same to you. His eyes stopped on your breasts and on his favorite spot between your legs.

“They hurt you, didn’t they?”

His eyes lingered on the tape burn on your face from the duct tape pulled off your mouth three days ago. On the scrape your cheek showed after being yanked onto the ground face first when you hit a police officer in the face. And finally, to those scratch marks on your arms from trying to take the medical tape residue off.

You had indeed made yourself bleed.

“Only a little,” you contested.

“They’ll never have ya’ll again,” Graves promised.

And that confirmed he knew. He knew it wasn’t just you anymore.

You got on your toes. The hot water had you both sweating. Your hair was in loose curls over your shoulders and his blonde hair falling over his forehead. His hair almost looked light brown when it was wet and hanging on his forehead. Your lips met his briefly before he pressed his lips onto yours, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively. You raised your hands to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, the strong stinging pain of scratch mark wounds forgotten.

He placed two strong hands on your hips before gripping your ass and effortlessly lifting you. You, out of habit, wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed you onto the cold tile behind you, making you gasp and hiss and arch your back.

When you arched your back, you felt him, hot and thick and hard, at your entrance.

“That desperate are we?”

You gave him a lustful glare and an exasperated huff while he scoffed in response.

Graves ran his teeth just along your jawline, making you moan. You caught yourself and reminded yourself to be quiet. This was a safehouse, not a black site. It meant noise traveled through the walls like they weren’t there. It wasn’t like back on base where the walls were concrete. And absorbed all the sound.

“We’re alone,”

You moaned more at his words.

“Lick my fingers,” Graves commanded. He had you pinned against the wall, his hot, thick cock just touching your entrance. You mewled, trying to get him inside you.

So you obeyed. You ran your hot tongue over his fingers as he held them in front of your face.

“Show me how you’re gonna take me,” Graves added in a low growl.

Graves suddenly released you and your knees almost gave out.

You wanted him. You needed him.

“On your knees,”

You obeyed instantly. You fucking loved that despite your delicate situation he was still willing to insert at least a little dominance in the bedroom.

Without him asking you to, you took his hard length into your mouth.

Graves gasped and moaned, throwing his head back and catching his hair in the hot spray of the shower.

It wasn’t long before Graves was on top of you, in bed. You were both still drenched from the shower but it wasn’t like either of you cared. You’d started sucking him off and after pulling you off of him he’d started to work his fingers inside of you before he’d abruptly cut off the water.

Now here you were, drenched hair sprawled out behind you while Graves had bruising grips on your thighs as you felt him mercilessly use his lips, teeth, and tongue to taste you.

You felt like you needed him to totally own you. To take your mind off that burning pain from where you’d scratched yourself so hard you’d cut yourself open earlier, from what you’d learned from your hospital stay, from all the shit you’d been through. So you said those key words…the key words that let him know you wanted him to fuck you almost into unconsciousness, that gave him permission to leave marks on you.

“Graves, show me who I belong to,”

But to your surprise?

“No,” came the growled reply from between your legs.

“What?” you glanced down and the sight that met you almost made you gasp. Graves, his hands still grasping your thighs, his pupils wide with lust, his chin damp from your arousal, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

You wondered if maybe you tasted differently. Could he taste that he completely owned you, marked you forever? You were carrying his child. How much more could he own you?

“No, Val,” Graves repeated, his gaze not leaving yours. “Tonight I’m just gonna relearn every fucking inch of your body.”

So after he’d edged you twice and finally let you cum on his lips, he was finally inside you.

And that’s when time seemed to slow down. It felt like you had been apart from Graves your months when in reality it had been a few days. You wondered if this is what addiction felt like. Every time he moved inside you it was like you both moaned in unison. You heard him say something but you couldn’t quite decipher it. Your brain was jelly.

You could feel yourself getting close and he would stop. You whined at the feeling. You wanted to beg him to continue, to fuck you until you couldn’t talk, couldn’t walk.

But every time you’d open your mouth to beg, he’d seal it with his own. And you’d feel him smile, chuckle. The bastard knew what he was doing. So instead of getting rough, he was edging you. He was relearning you and ensuring himself he still knew every inch of you by making sure his cock reached so deep inside you until it could go no further.

“Say my name,” finally came the command. Apparently your ears had stopped working because you knew that tone of voice. Graves had had to repeat this command more than once.

“Fuck me, Graves,” you gasped as his hips stuttered, making your insides flutter.

Graves talked again, but you had trouble hearing him over your own moans and filthy words begging him

Fuck you harder.

Graves grabbed your shoulders and shook you hard enough to get your attention. Not nearly as hard as when he’d fucked you before you were ‘rescued’ by 141. There was a gentleness to his motions that he’d never shown before and you wondered why. Before reminding yourself: you’re pregnant. He was still buried inside you and you arched your back, trying to get him deeper into you.

“Say my full name,”

So that’s exactly what you did.

You said his full name, Phillip Graves, as you came a second time, this time around his cock and felt as his thrusts got sloppy and rough and hard while he came undone inside of you.

End notes: This is gonna get soooo complicated! :o

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #cod mwii #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #john soap mactavish #mw2 141 #ghost cod #cod mw3 #cod makarov #longwayfromhome #somewhere only we know

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greyias · 3 months

Note

[ CUP ]: bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face.

Pairing: Gale x Tav Words: ~4700 Rating: T, despite any indications to the contrary Notes: I have no excuse for this, other than it made me laugh. I’m very sorry. Set late in Act 2, after the infamous spider meat scene. I should probably add a warning for the arachnophobic: SPIDERS

The walls of the tent seemed to loom around him. Normally a tight fit for Gale to stand up, now even more crowded as he finished his preparations for the evening. He couldn’t help but glare at the confines closing in on him, not exactly claustrophobic but also not a location he would normally choose to stage a grand, romantic gesture. He briefly contemplated the merits of conjuring the elaborate illusion of his tower back in Waterdeep again — but no, his concentration was already centered on a spell vital for his plans to try and make up for his outburst earlier in the day.

And even if it weren’t an issue, his Waterdeep illusion required more from him than he had after the day’s battles and puzzle solving within the depths of the Gauntlet of Shar. Which in itself was hardly the most romantic location to woo one’s paramour. Unless one happened to be a cleric of Shar, but even then, Gale doubted Shadowheart would find their current environs particularly stimulating in that way. And it wasn’t like he was trying to woo her.

And perhaps he wasn’t exactly trying to woo his beloved—just more… apologize? His normally boisterous paladin paramour had been unusually distant and quiet with him the entire afternoon and evening, and the timing between that and his less-than-accepting reaction to the reveal of her, erm, unusual proclivities could hardly be a coincidence. So, logic dictated that he make a romantic gesture to show that he accepted her, unexpected predilections and all.

His scowl deepened as he fussed with the stack of tomes that normally lay in a pile next to his bedroll, trying to make for the illusion of more space in the already crowded tent. This corner had seemed like the perfect place to get them out of the way, but every inch really was at a premium right now, wasn’t it? Hardly worthy of the grand, arduous gesture he was trying to pull off. If only he had some vestige of civilization, a romantic suite at an inn that wasn’t one sliver of concentration from disaster. Although he’d readily trade for even half the space of a thin-walled room at even the Last Light Inn at this point.

Although, considering one of the harpers had specifically warned them away from sleeping in any of the actual beds because of a lice infestation in the mattresses, that would probably also put a damper on the romantic atmosphere. Although really, after a century long of the inn suffering from a shadow curse, how were those vermin supposed to have survived? Barring the arrival on the head of an unsuspecting Elturian refugee, Harper, or Flaming Fist, it didn’t make a whole lot of sense. The buggers would need regular blood meals to survive any length of time, much less a century—unless they were undead shadow-cursed lice?

Hrm, best not take the chance. The living version of the buggers were bad enough, and toss in an undead, necromantic curse on top would just be an additional nightmare to deal with. Perhaps it was best to make due with the limits of his current environs rather than—

“Gale? Are you in here?”

Musings on the merits of undead lice were quickly derailed by the call.Wait, no—it was too soon for the guest of honor to arrive. “Uh—yes, just a moment!”

Before he could reach the entrance to intercept her, Ari peeled back the tent flap and stepped inside, a gentle expression of concern writ across her features. “You’ve been cooped up in here since dinner. You even missed Raphael, he says ‘hi’ by the way, and you wouldn’t believe what those scars on Astarion’s back—”

She froze, statement ending in a lurch as her gaze whipped over to the shadowed, far corner of the tent. Her eyes narrowed, then widened alarm before she flung herself fully into the space, maneuvering her unarmored body between Gale and the perceived threat. An appreciated, romantic gesture in normal times, but not at all the way he’d been picturing this going. As her bare fists balled up, arm reeling back for a punch he found himself grabbing her wrist in an attempt to keep the evening from derailing completely.

“Wait—no! It’s okay!”

“It’s not okay, there’s a giant spider in your tent!”

“That’s just Llarry—he’s a friend!”

Said giant spider, who had been settled back in the far corner, was sitting as comfortably as an enormous arachnid could in such a cramped space, legs crossed as if settling in for tea. One spindly, furry appendage waved as if in greeting. Although perhaps the gesture perhaps came across a little more intimidating to the uninitiated as Gale had to redouble his grip on Ari’s arm to keep her from punching in one of the creature’s eight eyes.

“See, see, friendly.”

Her protective scowl gave way to a deeply confused frown as she hesitantly lowered her fists. “I’m sorry—Llarry?”

“Well, technically his full name is Llarraggathssinssrigg, but really, he only uses that in more formal settings. He much prefers to go by Llarry.”

“You named the giant spider infesting your tent?”

Llarry reared back, front legs now waving irritably as a soft whisper of discontent escaped his mandibles. Ari’s balled fists started to raise back up at the action and Gale forcefully lowered them back down.

“No, no, of course not,” Gale corrected before they could get off on even more of the wrong foot… leg… tarsus… claw… whatever. The correct terminology wasn’t important at this particular juncture. “You know he doesn’t really appreciate the insinuation that he didn’t have a name before this, and also, it’s not very polite to refer to his presence as an infestation—”

“I can understand him perfectly fine, Gale!”

Oh. Right. The spell for speaking with animals had been one of the first things she cast each day in order to properly give Scratch and their resident owlbear cub morning scritches — here he had to settle for a potion to try and arrange tonight’s events. Although technically Llarry would have understood his instructions regardless, but considering the nature of the evening, it seemed only polite to have a proper back and forth about expectations, boundaries, safe words and whatnot.

Llarry made a series of elaborate clicking noises, front legs waving eagerly.

“Yes, of course,” Gale said at the reminder, “how boorish of me. Llarry, this vision of loveliness trying to valiantly punch you is Aravyn, although she does let her friends call her Ari.”

Llarry's multitude of eyes lit up as he trained his hopeful gaze on the half-elf.

“I have known you for all of sixty seconds. I’m not sure we’re to friends status yet.” As Llarry drooped dejectedly, some of Ari's defensiveness melted. “But I suppose since we’re already using nicknames, fine. You can use Ari, I guess.”

A trill of excitement escaped Llarry, far higher in pitch than expected from a beast of his size.

Seeing that indeed they were not about to be wrapped into a cocoon of webbing, Ari's defensive posture relaxed slightly, although she hadn't quite yet moved from her protective positioning shielding Gale. She tilted her head dubiously at the giant arachnid taking up a full third of the limited space. “So, let me see if I understand this correctly.”

“Of course.”

“You found a giant spider in your tent after dinner, and then made such good friends with him, you’re on a nickname basis with him.”

“Ah, not exactly that,” Gale said as he tried to step around her, although in the limited confines of the tent there wasn’t much room to maneuver without manhandling her. “You see, I brought Llarry here.”

“I’m sorry, what?

“Third level conjuration spell, really handy in a fight if you need some extra allies—but you know. I figured why not be a little creative, spice things up as it were, in a safe, controlled environment.”

“…what?”

“You know…” Gale trailed off, hoping he didn’t have to spell it out.

“No, I really don’t.” Ari glanced between the two of them with an expression caught somewhere between confusion and suspicion. “Explain it to me like I’m five years old.”

“Oh, this is hardly the conversation for a five year old.”

“Gale!”

The hint of irritation in her invocation of his name had him fiddling nervously with his collar. “Well, you see, I realize that things back in the orthon’s lair got a little unpleasant. And maybe I wasn’t as supportive as I should have been in the moment. But I love you, and I wanted to show you that I fully support your… proclivities. No matter how… unconventional they may seem at first.”

“Unconventional proclivities? How does a spider—” Llarry reared back with an affronted hiss at the rude generalization instead of his name, front legs waving irritably. Ari glanced at the display with a cautious frown before amending, “I’m sorry, how does Llarry fit into this?”

“It’s okay.” Gale abandoned fussing with his collar to give her an awkward but hopefully supportive pat on the arm. “It’s a fixation, we can’t help what we find stimulating. What one person may find a strange predilection, another may discover an unexpected fount of amorous adventure.” He ignored her trying to mouth the phrase in befuddlement, and instead offered an encouraging smile. “So as a show of good faith and open-mindedness…”

With his free hand, Gale made an expansive gesture at Llarry, who waved a giant furred appendage in a way that was definitely overeager to get the evening started. Damn it, Llarry, don’t get too thirsty.

Horror slowly dawned on Ari’s face, color draining from her usually rosy, freckled cheeks as she turned from spider to man. “Gale.”

“Yes, dearest?”

“Is this about the spider meat?”

“And there’s zero judgement here. This is a safe space,” he was quick to reassure. “The point is, I brought Llarry here to show that I want to make this work, unexpected kinks and all.”

Gale wasn’t sure what reaction he’d been hoping for was, but her slowly sinking to the ground as if her legs could no longer hold her weight was not it. Instinctively he made to steady her, batting away the giant spider arm that was also trying to do the same thing. Perhaps she was just overwhelmed at the magnanimity of the gesture, the whole-hearted acceptance of—

“I... I need a moment,” she said weakly, swatting both of them away as she hid her face in her knees.

“I… yes, of course. All the time you need. Although, maybe less than an hour? There is a time limit on the conjuration spell, so if you’d like to get started—”

Llarry eagerly extended a leg in her direction, and it was immediately shoved back.

“I said a moment!” she insisted more forcefully.

Gale quickly made a “cut it out” motion at the spider, who folded back in on himself into his cramped corner with a huff. He knelt down next to her, hands hovering uselessly in the air as he tried to understand this reaction.

“I have a feeling I may have made a miscalculation.” The opening statement was spoken at a normal volume, but the next was dropped to a whisper that hopefully only she could hear, and he did his best to not let any dread creep into his tone. “Does it have to be dead? Llarry’s pretty open-minded, but I don’t think he’d be particularly amenable to that arrangement.”

Not to mention that would be beyond the bounds of this particular spell. But baby steps. Unfortunately, his whisper wasn’t quiet enough as Llarry let out a noise that was neither disturbed nor eager. Intrigued? Oh gods, best to not contemplate that.

“Gale,” Ari croaked.

“Yes, yes, I’m here. Unless you don’t want me to be? Do I… need to leave the tent for this? Is this a private affair? I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I—”

She whirled on the spot, uncomfortably twisting as she grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and pulled him close, eyes wide as her voice raised loud enough for the entire camp to hear. “Stop! I’m not sexually attracted to spiders!”

“What—I mean no, not attracted to them, of course. I didn’t think that!” Not entirely. “Attraction and arousal are two different things. For example, some people like me get hot under the collar when they see a beautiful, strong woman tear a bloody swath through cursed shadowed creatures, and when you lick… rotting… spider�� meat… you—”

“It was charmed!” Her grip on his collar shifted to his shoulders as she shook him fiercely. “The spider meat was charmed!”

Elocution left him. “What? But you—”

“It was laced with succubus spittle, Gale!” She fixed him with a wide-eyed, mortified gaze. “I wasn’t… I don’t get turned on by licking spider meat.” As Llarry proffered a tentative limb, she released one hand to shove it away. “Or any part of a spider!”

“Oh.” Gale blinked. “Oh. Why in the nine hells would anyone dope spider meat? With an aphrodisiac?”

“There’s no good answers there, Gale! None!”

“Oh gods, you don’t think Yurgir was—not with the displacer beast?”

“I have been unable to think about anything else for the entire day!”

“Okay, not to lose the conversational thread, but I want to be one hundred and ten percent sure on this point. Your titillated reaction was in no way genuine, and you do not have any desire to indulge in any arachnid-related fetish?”

“I do not.” It came out a defeated whisper as she buried her face into shoulder to hide her burning cheeks.

Llarry slumped and emitted a dejected trill, his evening clearly ruined.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“A relief?” She raised her head back up from where she was trying to hide from her mortification. “I thought you said you accepted me as I am—even the weird parts!”

“Yes, but that’s not a weird part of you is it?” He shook his head, then replayed back the words that he’d just spoken. “Wait—that came out wrong.”

“So you don’t accept my weirdness?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Gale held up his hands defensively. “I love your weirdness, your unexpected nature—I just am a little relieved I don’t need to reserve a third level spell slot to summon a fey spirit in the form of a giant spider for you to salivate over if we want to get intimate!”

“What the fuck is going on in that tent?” Astarion’s loud voice drifted their way.

“Dark Lady preserve us, don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to!” Shadowheart chimed in.

Okay, that was unfortunate. Another issue to deal with at another time.

“You—you didn’t use your sound dampening charm you created?” Ari whispered fiercely. “When you thought we were going to have a wild night of spider licking?”

“Look, Llarry requires a dedicated amount of concentration to keep on this plane of existence—”

“Oh, well if Llarry requires your concentration—”

The spider in question made an elaborate series of gestures with three of his appendages, clearly indicating that this was not a part of the relationship he had agreed to be party to.

“Please, Llarry,” Gale begged first to spider, then turned his attention to his girlfriend, “I’m trying here.”

“Trying what?” An edge of equal desperation tinged her voice. “Why, why, why why—” she caught herself, took a breath, then exhaled before finishing the question, “why did you feel the need to bring a giant spider into… this?”

“I already told you—I thought I hurt your feelings.”

“You did hurt my feelings—because you yelled at me!”

“And I was only yelling out of surprise,” he tried, oh he tried to stop himself from finishing the rest of that thought, but Gale of Waterdeep was nothing if not thorough in the worst of ways, “because you licked a dead spider!”

“I only licked it because it smelled weird and magical and off!”

“Oh yes, a great justification for supping a little essence d’arachnid — not to mention a sure fire way to pick up a food-borne illness.”

“Hey! I needed to investigate!”

“With your tongue? Did you see me putting ancient relics in my mouth?”

“Yes! I gave you several to stabilize your condition!”

“I—I didn’t eat them, I just consumed them, there’s a difference!”

“And that difference is?”

“Well, one involves a dead spider and your tongue—”

“You know for someone who’s claiming this was a safe space, I’m hearing a lot of judgement in your voice.”

“I’m not judging,” Gale insisted. “I’m just…”

Ari quirked a single brow, arms crossed as she awaited his explanation for why this was about his concern, not judgement. And this entire thing was a ridiculous misunderstanding as it was. Llarry let out a long series of very sincere, but chiding clicks.

“You’re not helping,” Gale muttered darkly.

“You have to admit, Llarry has a point.”

“I really don’t have to admit that.” He shot her a look. “And okay, let’s say I concede that inadvisable curiosity had you put your tongue on it the first time. But if you knew it was charmed, why in Faerun did you taste it again?”

Her cheeks flushed a deep, deep red again. “Because you yelled at me!”

“I feel like we covered that point already.” Gale frowned. “Have we reached a circle in this ridiculous argument? Or is it a spiral at this point?”

Llarry made a low inquiring trill, front legs gesturing in a fluid motion toward the tent flaps, as this was definitely not the fun evening he had been promised.

“Not now, Llarry,” both Ari and Gale sighed in unison.

Gale scrubbed a hand across his eyes, a desperation clawing up and squeezing at his chest as this conversation, if it could even be called that at this point, seemed to spiral completely out of control. Ah, control, what a beautiful, deranged illusion to grasp for.

Words. He needed words. “It was never my intention to upset you.” That was a good start. “When you grew distant, avoiding my gaze… can you really blame me for wanting to fix it?”

She stared at him, long and hard in a way that told him without any words, that yes. Maybe a little blame was being directed his way. He couldn’t help but wilt some at that.

“I can see you’re mad,” he started.

“I’m not mad,” she insisted.

“But you’re not happy either.” This really wasn’t going well at all. “Look, I may not have the cleanest track record when it comes to correcting mistakes in relationships. Possibly overcorrecting just a tad.”

“Just ‘a tad’? You don’t think this was a little extreme?” She asked softly, the trace of hurt in the question like a twist of the knife. “Instead of… talking to me first?”

“When you put it that way… I suppose going to such elaborate lengths without consulting you first was perhaps a little ill-considered.” The wounded look still lingered in her eyes, and he tried to swallow past that gnawing guilt trying to rise back up in him. “You just seemed upset, and you know how they say actions speak louder than words, and I know I use a lot of words.”

“You do,” she said quietly. “You know, the first time was out of curiosity.”

“I do feel like we’ve firmly established that fact.”

She shot him a look, but the heat in it was quelled by something a little more raw. “The second time wasn’t just because you yelled or the meat was charmed. It was what you said.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You suggested that we’d run our course.”

“I did no such thing,” he insisted, with a heat. “I would never—”

“You literally told me that, and I quote, ‘the time might just have come when you and I should split ways’.” After the verbatim recitation she dropped her gaze, looking anywhere but at him.

“That was a joke,” Gale insisted hotly.

“It certainly didn’t sound like one at the time.”

Again, she wouldn’t quite look at him, just like most of the afternoon that had started this whole sordid affair. Llarry’s eight eyes glanced between Ari, to Gale, and with a world’s worth of recrimination behind the action. Stupid summoned spider—why had he not let the damned thing leave the tent when they had a chance?

Spider voyeur be damned, he moved in, gently cupping her face and tilting it up so he could look her in the eye. He half-expected her to pull away, but she allowed the motion. The shuttered expression on her face cranked that vice around his chest one notch tighter, even as his thumb brushed lightly across her jaw line.

“I told you once that nothing would turn my heart from you,” his voice was naught but a whisper, but with no room between them, it might as well have echoed from the walls, “and that hasn’t changed.”

She swallowed and after a moment managed to summon the semblance of a smile. “Not even my unfortunate habit of sampling things I shouldn’t?”

“Not even that,” he breathed.

She let out a half breath, half-laugh in response, and this time when she closed her eyes it seemed to be in relief. It was a small win, but he’d take it, and the vice loosened enough so he could breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, leaning into him.

“Whatever for?”

“Overreacting?” she tried. “I probably should have said something too. I just… felt stupid about the whole thing. And you were just so angry when you were yelling at me to stop licking things.”

“I was concerned,” he insisted, and yes, maybe a little irked that he’d been ignored in the moment. “Maybe we can just chalk up this entire sordid affair to misplaced affections and intentions? I mean, I brought Llarry into our lives to prove my love, didn’t I?”

The third wheel cleverly disguised as a giant spider rolled all eight of his eyes.

“Don’t be like that,” he said, “it was a genuine misunderstanding. Anyone could make this mistake?”

“Anyone?” Ari asked.

“Okay, maybe just me,” he amended, “but I think it’s safe to say that you’re off the hook for the evening, my eight-legged friend.”

A woeful, keening sound left the spider, his large, bulbous head dipping low in clear dejection.

“It’s you not you, Llarry,” Gale insisted, “it’s me.”

The mandibles clicked in rapid staccato, intercut with distressed squeaking.

“Yes, yes, but given the new information we’ve all uncovered in this impromptu group therapy session, the parameters of our previous negotiations really don’t apply here.”

Another click, what counted as a huff.

“Come now, let me just release you from your service. You’ve got less than an hour left of existence, my friend, you should make the most of it.”

Llarry turned his octagonal gaze in Ari’s direction.

“No.”

Now, spiders couldn’t exactly snort, as they lacked the nostrils to do so. However every single spiracle across his large hairy body exhaled their frustration at the same time, and with a decisive shuffle of all eight legs pounding against the rug-lined floor of the tent, Llarry waddled his way past the embracing couple and shoved his way out the tent’s front flap and into the camp beyond.

“Wait, Llarry, don’t be like that—”

Almost immediately, cries of alarm went up from the rest of the party going about their evening, Scratch let out a loud growl as the owlbear cub screeched a warning. The clang of metal against stone indicated that someone had taken a swipe at the vorekink-friendly spider — and missed.

“Oh no,” Ari murmured, starting to move towards the tent flap to try and save their weird relationship counselor, “Llarry!”

“He’s up in the rafters already!” That seemed to be Lae’zel, presumably the one that had tried to cut the poor dejected spider in two. “Damn it elf, can’t you aim your longbow better?”

“It’s not my fault he’s faster than a Quickling on a sugar high!” Astarion snapped back.

“Okay, am I going crazy,” Karlach asked loudly, “or was that spider crying?”

“Leave that poor spider alone,” Wyll, ever the voice of reason, tried to bring peace and order back into their lives. Bless him. He tried.

“Yes. It’s clearly had a rough evening,” Halsin rumbled.

“I guess he’s fine?” Ari winced, turning back to Gale.

“He always did have a penchant for drama,” Gale sighed.

“You’ve known him for less than an hour.”

“But it seems like a lifetime, doesn’t it?”

��Gods yes.” She buried her face into his shoulder again. “Do you think we have any chance of convincing everyone they didn’t hear any of this?”

“I’m afraid I’m tapped out of that particular magic for this evening.”

“Is there no justice in the world?”

“Modifying our friends memory? Probably not justice—I would say it’s morally dubious at best.”

Ari tried to sink her head further into the retreat of Gale’s night shirt. Unfortunately it was not nearly as voluminous as the folds of the robes he wore in the daytime, so there was not much solace to be found there. The muffled groan was the best she could muster. At that point, the tent flap shifted again and Karlach looked in, an eyebrow raised as she took in the sight before her.

“Soooo,” she managed to draw out the two-letter word out into multiple syllables, “you’re both alive I can see. Well, I mean we already kind of knew you were alive. Because of all the yelling.”

“Remarkable observation as always, Karlach,” Gale’s reply was dry, one hand busy smoothing the top of his mortified girlfriend’s head. “Can we help you?”

“Ah, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

“Look, the gang—” At Gale’s quirked eyebrow, she amended, “—okay, mostly Astarion because he’s nosey as fuck, sent me in to ask what the hells is going on in here? I told him if the spider tent’s a-rocking, don’t come a-knocking, but he insisted…”

“Just a little… mutual misunderstanding is all.”

“Uh huh. You know, if you want to keep it spicy, there’s a lot easier ways than the five million fucked up scenarios I imagined listening to all that.”

Another pitiful moan left Ari, but it was mostly muffled by Gale’s shoulder. He gave her head a consoling pet.

“She okay?”

“No,” Ari’s words were muted by her insistence of slowly smothering herself in her boyfriend’s shoulder, “just let ceremorphosis take me now. I don’t think even my soul wants to remember any of this.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” Karlach insisted.

“Astarion will never shut up about this,” is what Gale was pretty sure she said, but it was mostly just indistinct mumblings at this point.

“Hey, first wise crack from Fangs, and I’ll cave his skull in. Then we can have Withers bring him back. No harm, no foul.”

“Except for Astarion’s skull,” Gale pointed out.

“You’d do that for me?” Ari mumbled.

“For you, soldier? Anything.“ She gave Gale a lurid wink. “Well, I’m just going to leave you two lovebirds to go ahead and smooth out any remaining ‘misunderstandings’ you might have. Maybe just put up that fancy sound dampening charm before you really get going, ‘ey?”

With that, she ducked back out, a chuckle in her wake. Finally alone, Ari emerged from her refuge in Gale’s shoulder, a red crease marking where she’d pressed her face particularly hard against his clavicle. “You’re really smart, right? What’s the chance of a rogue portal appearing and swallowing us up before we have to face the others tomorrow?”

“Alas, a statistical improbability.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

Gale tucked back an errant honey-blonde strand, attempting to smooth her now disheveled hair. “I think we might have to resign ourselves to being the talk of the camp, at least until the next insanity is thrown our way.”

She dramatically hid her face back in his shoulder, as if he’d pronounced the world was ending. “I am never leaving this tent again.”

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 tav #oc: aravyn #cw: spiders #look #look i can explain #(actually no i can’t carry on)#crackfic #not beta’d sowwy #i am yeeting this masterpiece out to the winds #and going to bed #greyfic

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lunar-years · 2 months

Note

How’s the arm?

Tentative footsteps patter over the hardwood floor, inching closer; but it’s Jamie’s voice that reaches him first: “How’s the arm?”

Roy immediately bristles, unable to stop his voice from rising several decibels as he snaps, “I’ve already told you half a fucking dozen times in the past hour, Jamie, it’s the exact fucking same as it was twenty minutes ago, and yes I’m fucking fine, and I’ll kindly remind you again that you fucking promised me you’d stop fucking asking—” he stops mid-sentence, registering what exactly Jamie said at the same time the man crosses into his line of vision, letting Roy spot the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He blinks, momentarily thrown. Arm?

Jamie shrugs, and even that small motion is somehow made exuberant under his determinedly bright demeanor. His face breaks into a gleeful smile, ear-to-ear, right pleased with himself.

Fucking hell. Roy has no idea how the prick has managed to stay this damn cheerful all day, considering he’s spent the whole of it waiting on his temporarily useless, opposite-of-cheerful boyfriend hand and foot. Keeping him confined to the miserable prison of his living room sofa, flipping through the sport channels with a commendable level of steady enthusiasm—even though the best they’ve had on offer were the bloody table tennis Olympic trials that ended an hour again—and fretting, every single second of every blasted minute, over Roy and his knee. Whether the pillow under Roy’s knee is fluffed enough, and whether Roy's morning brew has gone cold and could do for urgent replacement, and whether Roy needs help getting to the toilet before he pisses down his own leg. Jamie’s there all right, for all of it, and he’s bloody relentless.

Roy appreciates it. Truly, he does. It’s also driving him completely up the fucking wall, just a little. Two things can be true.

Jamie keeps right on smiling. “What?” he says innocently, sitting down next to Roy and handing over his latest freshly-warmed mug of tea, “I’m not having you on, it was a real question. Since you’re going to be a bit out of commission on the really agile shit for a while and all,” here he nods sympathetically in the direction of Roy’s mangled up, patchworked knee, the frankensteinish surgery scar thankfully covered up by fresh dressings (also courtesy of Jamie) and tucked atop Keeley’s fluffiest pillow. “Sorry,” he continues in a stage-whisper, hands going up like Roy's a feral cat he's trying not to set off, “know you want me to pretend like this ain’t happening, and I’m trying, swear down! But, well. Me point is, so long as your arm’s still in working form...we can at least exchange handies!” He beams at him again with great pride, like mutual handjobs are the certifiable cure to Roy’s every ailment, and Jamie’s the dutiful nurse who gets to present the good news and administer the necessary dosage.

(And well, a wank’s a wank, so. Roy’s willing to give it a shot.)

Instead of saying that, he chucks the pillow behind his back at his boyfriend's head and rolls his eyes in Jamie's direction, faking a pout. “All you care about is my cock,” he accuses half-heartedly.

“Yes, poor, hard-done Roy, with a dead sexy boyfriend who wants him for his body as much as his mind,” Jamie grins, leaning in to give him a kiss. With lips practically still brushing Roy’s own, he adds, gentler, “I also thought, um. It might help, you know? With what you were saying earlier. I’m really sorry I made you feel like that.”

Roy brow furrows. He wades back amongst all the day's many horrors to figure out which one in particular Jamie could be referring to. It must’ve been the last time, when he was snapping at the pair of them to stop bloody asking about his knee all the time. You’re both making me feel like a fucking pensioner. Then, to Jamie specifically, I’m not actually your fucking grandad, you know. You don’t have to treat me like I’m two steps from the care home. It was around that time Keeley excused herself for a drive to the pharmacy, bristling at him with intense displeasure and that familiar get yourself together look in her eyes on her way out. Soon after, after an comfortable stretch of moody silence, Jamie muttered something about more tea, and disappeared into the kitchen for far longer than it took to whip up a new brew.

So yeah, he owes them both an apology, clearly. Again.

He looks at his boyfriend, now aching with guilt on top of everything else, most pressingly the persistent sting that seems to extend his whole leg, making it very hard to focus on anything good, even his very good boyfriend. His very good boyfriend who’s only trying to help him. Fuck.

Jamie’s still got his eyes locked on his, searching his face for reassurance. Hesitant, like he’s half expecting Roy to get angry and snap at him again for bringing it up. It’s so sincere it slices Roy smoothly in half.

“I,” he starts. Shuts his mouth. Starts again, “I’m sorry for that, babe. Look, I won't pretend I didn't mean some of it. I do feel…I dunno. Not even old, just…useless? I guess. But you’re not the one making me feel like that, it’s my own shit. I never should have said that to you, or to Keeley. I likehow you take care of me.” He threads his fingers through Jamie’s and gives them a squeeze. “It’s just…hard for me to let you.” He chokes over the last part a bit, from the clumsy embarrassment of his own feelings. Immediately redirects his gaze onto their locked palms.

But Jamie responds without hesitation, his shoulders already relaxing as he says briskly, “You’re forgiven.” Like it’s simple. Like Roy’s someone easy to forgive. Fuck, he still doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this. Jamie leans back, smile softer now, more natural. It takes on a cheeky edge as he adds, “And I know a way you can make it up to me, yeah?” with a wink and a crude hand gesture. Right back around to where they started.

Roy rolls his eyes again, filled with adoration for this ridiculous man. “We can’t fix everything with sex.”

“We can make a brave go of trying, though," he offers solemnly, lips quirked.

Roy laughs despite himself, but it’s cut off by a sharp sting to his knee, making him wince before he can help it. His boyfriend’s face droops immediately. This time though, Jamie keeps his hands forcibly pinned to his sides, trying so hard not to hover, not to be too much. It makes Roy crack open even further. He really fucked this up.

“Can we wait for Keeley to get back first?” he suggests carefully, eyes meeting Jamie’s as his fingers brush circles on the back of his hand. “Ought to apologize to her, too.”

“Definitely. Also, she’ll definitely enjoy this. Vulnerability really does it for her.” Jamie waggles his eyebrows playfully, seemingly resigned to brushing over the moment of tension, but Roy doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger for a second too long over Roy’s features, as if trying to catch the slightest grimace that could help him suss out Roy's pain level. Jamie needs him to be honest here; Roy forces himself to let him in.

“I think I need my meds, first,” he admits. “Knee really fucking hurts. Got worse just now. And maybe, um…you could, with the pillow?”

Jamie, perfect as he is, needs no further instruction. His hands fly towards the cushion, readjusting it carefully into a more supportive position. “Anything else, babe?” he asks as he fluffs, focus entirely on the pillow.

“Jay.”

His boyfriend’s head snaps up again, and Roy gestures him to slow down, and sit back. As soon as Jamie’s back’s against the sofa cushion again, Roy tosses his arm around him and tugs him in as close as possible. “I just want you,” he whispers. Then he lets himself shut his eyes and sink into the calm, knowing Jamie's got him.

#royjamie #royjamiekeeley #roy kent #jamie tartt #ted lasso #my writing #my fics #hurt/comfort #ship post #writing games #prompt meme

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strawberrymilk-sunshine · 2 years

Text

For all eternity.

I was terrified of Ursula as a child. I used to think she lived under the stairs in my basement.

Anyways I love Azul Ashengrotto with all my heart <3

(apologies if this post is a bit messy, first time writing with the tumblr app. May edit this later)

Warning(s): fem reader, yandere content, kidnapping

“Heeeey, Azul, we’re baaaack...” One of a pair of twins called into the seemingly empty grotto.

“We saw (Y/N) today.” The other twin mentioned.

“Oh, did you? What a pleasant surprise.” The octopus merman residing within the dark cave responded. “How did she look?”

“Positively beautiful.”

“Y’know, Azul, I have no idea why you’re so interested in her... she’s just some ditzy mermaid, what’s so different about her compared to every other mermaid?”

“Don’t call her that, Floyd.” Azul angrily said. “She isn’t just some ‘ditzy mermaid’, ok?”

“Whatever.” Floyd rolled his eyes. “Anyways, if you’re so into her, why not just tell her already~?”

“We’ve discussed this before. I have a plan.”

“Ah, and speaking of that...” Jade began. “I noticed something today while observing (Y/N). She had a scar on her tail.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Azul asked... or, moreso demanded.

“Yes, (Y/N) had a scar on her tail. Quite a large one, might I add.” Jade explained.

“Oh yeeeeeeah...! Hehe, her love of humans got her pretty hurt, eh Jade~?”

“Yes, it did, Floyd.” Despite sounding somber, Jade had a smile on his face.

Azul was filled with rage at the thought. How DARE somebody do that to you?! Why did they think they had the right to hurt you- why did they think they had the right to touch you?!

“Floyd. Jade. Go find (Y/N).” Azul demanded. “Find her and bring her to me. It seems I will be enacting my plan sooner than I thought.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on a rock, crying. If only you weren’t a mermaid... if you were human, he would’ve loved you. If you were human, he wouldn’t have immediately called you a monster.

If only you weren’t a mermaid...

“Well isn’t this just sad~?”

“Indeed it is.”

“W-who’s there?!” You yelled out. Two eel mermen revealed themselves, both smiling creepily...

“There’s no need to be so hostile.”

“Yeah! We just wanna help you~!”

“Help me...? How can you help me...?”

“Oh no, not us. But we know someone who can.”

“Azul Ashengrotto~”

...you’d heard that name before. There were rumours of an octopus merman who went by that name. They say he could grant any wish you have... for a price.

“No, no... I-I can’t possibly...” You began to think of all the ways this could go wrong.

“No? Well it is what it is, I suppose.”

“It was just a suggestion...”

As the eel mermen slowly swam away from you, you began considering things. Yes, things could obviously go wrong, but... if he can grant any wish you have, then...

“Wait-!” You yelled out. The twins immediately stopped and turned back to look at you, an unsettling toothy grin on both their faces. “On second thought... please take me to him!”

“It would be our pleasure.”

They grabbed your hands and led you along.

When the three of you happened upon a cave, the two let go of you.

“Hey Azuuuuuul~! You have a visitor!” One of them said, pushing you inside the cave.

“Ah, greetings, (Y/N). I’ve been waiting for you.” A voice from deep within the cave called out to you.

You continued deeper into the cave, until-

You saw him. Azul. The octopus merman who granted wishes, not unlike the Sea Witch herself.

“I... I-I’m here for-” Before you could finish your sentence, a tentacle pressed itself against your lips, shushing you.

“Oh, I know what you’re here for.” Azul told you. “Poor, unfortunate souls such as yourself always come to me for one reason.” He placed a hand on his chest. “You need my help.”

“I do...” You admitted. “I... I want you to make me human!”

“...excuse me? You want to become human? You... don’t want to get back at those who hurt you?”

“If I was a human, then he’d love me... I’m sure of it.” You explained. “So all I want from you is to turn me into a human!”

“Well, Angelfish, that’s a bit of a tall ask...” Azul paused for a moment. “But just for you, I can find a way to make it happen!”

“Y-you can?!”

“Why of course! Though... I will need adequate payment.” He explained. “You can’t get something for nothing, you know!”

“Oh, but I don’t have any m-”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head off, (Y/N)! I’m not asking for money.” Azul got very close to you... a bit too close. He placed a hand on your chin. “I want your voice.”

“My voice...?”

“So, (Y/N), this is the deal.” Azul backed away from you, a magical golden contract scroll appearing above his hand. “I will make you a potion that will turn you into a human for three days. In that time, you are to get that human you like so much to fall in love with you, all without your voice, understand? If you can do that, then you’ll remain human permanently. But if not, well... you’ll turn back into a mermaid. And you will belong to me.”

“Can I really do that without talking to him...?”

“Why of course you can! I believe in you, (Y/N)!”

The part of the contract that stood out the most to you was the ominous “For all eternity.” at the bottom. Azul handed you a pen made of the skeleton of a small fish.

"Have we got a deal, (Y/N)~?"

Your eyes scanned the golden contract as Azul began preparing your potion, showing he fully expected you to agree to his deal. He hummed a tune to himself as he did.

You grabbed the fish pen tightly. All of your dreams can come true if only you sign the scroll...

Without hesitating any further, you wrote your name on the dotted line.

"You signed? Perfect! Then, It's a Deal!"

It felt so strange when the deal was completed. It felt like your voice was literally sucked out from your throat. And suddenly, you no longer had a tail. Instead, where it once was, there were a pair of legs.

And soon after that, you could no longer breathe the water.

"Jade, Floyd, bring her to the surface. We wouldn't want her drowning before she can attempt to finish the deal now, would we~?"

"Of course." "Will do~!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days are not unlike crashing waves. They come and go in a second; before you know it they're gone. An unfortunate truth for someone on a time limit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days came and went. You had made no progress with the human you loved... there's no way you can complete your end of the bargain!

These past two days, you've noticed that the sea tends to calm you down when you're panicking. Makes sense, seeing as you were born there. So you were looking out at the sea, watching the sunset... watching the time draw ever nearer. As you panicked, you failed to notice someone walk up you you. A human man with silver hair and glasses...

"Excuse me, are you alright?" He asked. You shook your head no, starting to tear up. "Well, what's wrong?"

You tried talking, but no matter how loud you tried to scream, nothing came out.

"Oh, can you not speak? My apologies." He sat down beside you. "My name's Vance. I can accompany you, if you'd like." You nodded, and wiped your tears. "I've seen you around here recently. By the looks of things, you like that fisherman, yes? Unfortunately, he's already married."

He's married? That human you entered this contract for is married?

All of this has been for nothing.

"Huh? What's wrong, Angelfish?" Vance asked you. "There's no need to cry! Sure, you may not get to have that guy, but... you could always have me."

Vance gave you a tight hug... but something didn't seem quite right. "Angelfish"... hasn't someone called you that before...?

That was when you realized. You pushed him away from you, standing up and stumbling slightly backwards.

"Oh. So you noticed, did you?" He asked. "Well, it's a good thing we're near the sea, (Y/N)... your time is up!"

You watched as 'Vance' transformed into exactly who you thought he was.

Azul grabbed you, with his arms and tentacles, and pulled you into the water with him. You were worried you'd drown, but found yourself being able to breathe in the water, leading you to a horrible realization: your time really had run out.

"You and I will have a wonderful life together, (Y/N)." Your face was pressed tightly against Azul's chest, and with his multiple limbs holding you, there was no way you could get out of this hug. "We will love each other for all eternity... just as I had wanted."

#azul ashengrotto #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul #by the way...#azul calling himself vance when he's pretending to be human #is a reference to how ursula called herself vanessa #thought that'd be a fun little reference

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spider-mar2004 · 3 months

Text

🕷Things i really need, or wish appear in Spider-Man BTSV🕷

- Kaine Parker. We know he appeared just as background (and bad modeled i am sorry but sobs) and since Ben Reilly is also focused there, why not Kaine? First all he has a really interesting story, abilities, etc.

- A fight scene of Miguel O'hara and Kaine Parker, please the two big beasts at least discussing.

- SUPERIOR SPIDERMAN PLEASE. A scene where Superior has a lab. I love so much him and could be interesring see a literally scientistic spiderman in the society (again, he appeared in background) and see his random aggressive behavior, hell yes.

- Miguel O'hara speak more spanish, Pav speak his Hindu language (with translation OFC), c'mon speak their first language could be cool!

- Ben Reilly discussing and fighting with Peter B. Parker, we know Ben and Pete goes grr in some comics, even is not the same Peter but c'mon, could possible give Ben more development and reason of his drama queen /j personality.

- MORE. LEGO SPIDEY SCENES. Like just on Mig's shoulder during missions and being goofy.

- SPIDER-HAM PLEASE! WE MISS OUR PIGGY!

- Venom. Just, any Venom, Please.

- Miguel's with Alchemax uniform, could be great tbh and a scene of the process in detailed way about the "drug" he injects himself.

- More Love development on Miles, ik he is goofy and sweet baby Pero porfavor (but please) try more of his best for get his Gwen, ik she likes him too but c'mon it's been years and still afraid or something for be more than friends with her. And the fact she is from another world is not an excuse! 😭

- Miguel understand his mistakes, ik this will be complicated but, we know what Miguel did of chase a 15 yro and almost killing him is bad, so a bit of reflexction couldn't be bad for him.

- This won't happen obviously, but i wish if Spider-Rex gets remodeled, look, as a Dinosaur nerd, kinda upset me because man that looks like it's from those direct videos of Youtube kids (will draw my version of Spider-Rex) so at least a semi-realistic rex wouldn't be bad. (Feathered for be more logic y'know)

- Kaine's face, no matter if long or short kiwi coconut hair, Just need see his pretty baby scarred face.

- Spider Ice cream small scene melting during a mission, sí.

- Silk! She is not my fav, but yes a good character and since there is just 3 spiderwomen , why not add a bit more? Lol.

Ok for now that's all, may i'll edit it soon or something.

Anyways my spider-people, that's all *drops microphone and dances in fortnite*

#spiderverse #mar's random shit #across the spiderverse #spider man #ben reilly #miles morales #gwen stacy #kaine parker #miguel o'hara

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hwavsg4ch4n · 1 year

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I'll Protect You || L.K

tags/warnings: afab!reader, bodyguard!Minho, royal!au, Princess!reader, angst, rough family dynamics, suggestive, forbidden love trope (lol), Minho calls reader "your/my grace", if i missed anything pls message me!!

notes: omg am I posting!? Hi everyoneeee, first off I want to ask how everyone has been~. I haven't been an active writer, that's because I realized I was looking at this as a job rather than a hobby that brings me joy :(, therefore I took a break. Can't say I'm gonna be constant bc thus is a hobby not a job, but I love to write and i'm pretty sure I wont stop! ( I have a lot of things in my drafts) btw, this is lowkey inspired by Bridgeton, but not quite.

Description: Being a royal isn't easy, especially when every choice is made for you. But maybe having a kind guard around isn't so bad.

this is a work of fiction, an alternate universe. The Irl persons are not made to be perceived this way. 18+ content ahead, viewer discretion is advised.

lmk if I should make this into a little series :o

You huffed, picking at the herbs that laid on your pasta as a garnish, tuning out the boring kingdom talk your mother and father indulged in with the rest of the family. The pearly satin gloves on your hands grew uncomfortable as the queen brung your personal life into conversation once more.

“Y/n will get married soon, I just know it.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your mothers comments. Your father, as always, just had to add salt to the wound. “There are many suitors sending letters to the palace every day, even some from overseas. I don’t understand why you never reply efficiently-” You gave a tight lipped pained smile, not wanting to cause a scene; avoiding trouble.

You didn’t want all these random men, men that only saw your family's wealth. You already had a man you yearned for, one that was different. You look up from the tablecloth, in the doorway of the dining room stood your personal guard; Minho. He wasn’t looking at you, he was on duty. If he looked anywhere but straight he’d be bound to have to skip dinner for a lecture from the head guard. But you didn’t mind that he wasn’t looking at you, it made it easier to stare and get lost in the comfort of your own imagination; daydreaming about how wonderful it would be to run away with the kind man that always made sure you weren’t lonely.

Minho wasn’t always in your life, he only came to serve the royal family a mere 2 years ago. Being assigned as your personal guard didn’t sound exciting at first, just another shackle put around your ankles to prevent you from living the best you could under these circumstances. But as you grew accustomed to his presence, memorizing the scars on Minho’s neck and hands, finding safety in the pure brown of his round eyes, and the soft smile that he often wore on his lips; the one he’d only show you, you didn’t dread being looked over 24/7. He was more than enough for you, enough to make you feel whole in a palace that only offered emptiness.

Before Minho was a royal guard, he was a warrior. He only knew battle, but he didn’t want to fight all the time anymore, he wished for something more calm; so here he is. Yes he was rough around the edges but he got the job done, the king and queen liked him because he seemed to make their princess stop complaining. They didn’t care how he did it, as long as they didn’t have to hear your mouth and watch you themselves.

As you stared at the man who looked after you, daydreaming of an alternate universe where you could be normal… your mother; the queen, asked your sister-in-law; the dutchess, to make a toast. What for? You didn’t know, but what you did know was envy. You could practically turn the color green as you watched your brother's fond eyes stare up at the woman he loved. He got to marry the woman he loved so purely, why didn’t you get to do the same? He got to pick, choose… yet you have no say.

You cleared your throat after sipping from the dark glass of wine. “Excuse me. Mother, father, may I be excused? The meal doesn’t seem to be sitting right with my stomach.” Your words were respectful but your face held an expression only Minho could read clearly, therefore he shifted on his heels, ready to accompany you.

“You’ve barely touched your food, my grace.” Your sister-in-law meant well, you know she did. But the fact that she can have the life she wishes for while you’re sitting idle with no authority over yourself makes you frown almost every time you see her smile happily. “Yes, well, I seem to have caught a bug. May I be excused, please… your highness?” You offered a tight lipped smile at your mothers unhappy face. The poised woman sipped from her white wine as she shooed you off with a flick of the wrist, but you couldn’t leave the dining room without her having the last words.

“Y/n dear, I want you to know… no matter how much you try to fight it, this is your life. You will eat when I tell you, wear what I want you to, and marry who I wish you to. Is that understood, darling?” Your eyelids fluttered as you fought back tears of frustration, no matter how hard you tried to be perfect, she saw right through you. “You’re dismissed.”

The maids opened the grand doors, offering you pity glances as you clacked off; struggling to keep your composure as Minho followed closely behind.

He didn’t say anything as you sped walk into the garden, breathing heavily as tears finally flowed down your cheeks. You looked down at your glove clad hands as you stopped in the center of the garden, sniffling as you rushed to rip them off. Throwing them to the rocky pavement as you dug your heel into the glimmering fabric.

“Your grace,” you sighed softly at the sound of his voice, the voice that calmed you whenever this would happen. Minho didn’t seem to know the effect he had on you, or maybe he did and decided to ignore it. Either way his presence always worked.

“It’s cold out, and you have nothing to cover yourself with, shall we go inside?” He asked softly, staring at your back as you looked at the now dirty satin gloves on the cobblestone. You shook your head in disagreement, turning around to be met with Minho’s gentle eyes underneath the moonlight.

“The breeze feels nice, I wish to stay out here for longer. You can go back if you’d like.” Your voice was weak as you sat on a bench, overlooking a small man made lake your brother made for you as an 11th birthday gift. You watched as the koi fish swam carelessly, free. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.

You know Minho didn’t leave, he wouldn’t leave even if you paid him to. “Why is this my life Minho?” He stayed silent. You looked up at him, his expression neutral, used to having heard this talk from you multiple times.

“Why can’t I marry the one I love? Be happy with him, feel the kind of love my brother and the dutchess have. It’s right at my fingertips, but it’s being ripped away.” Minho raised a brow, this was new. Your rants were always about freedom, not about love.

“… are you in love, my grace?” Minho was surprised. He’s with you every hour of the day, he surely would’ve noticed if you’ve developed a crush on someone.

You parted your lips, realizing what you’ve just said. The wine has seemingly gotten to you.

You stand up, “I want to go to my room.” You whispered, walking passed the now curious man. Minho swiftly picked up your gloves and handed them to a maid as he followed you inside.

You dismissed the help as they offered to undress you. “Please just… go to your chambers, I want to be alone.” They all left, except for him. You closed your room doors behind you, sighing. “Would you like me to leave too, your grace?” You rolled your eyes, turning around to face him.

You were tired, tired of pretending, tired of hiding. “Have you ever been in love, Minho?” Your guard frowned, then soon moved in a hurry to help as he saw you trying to take off your jewelry. You sucked in a breath of air as you saw his reflection in the mirror, focused on helping you with your pearls. You fought the urge of closing your eyes as his fingers grazed your skin.

“I have.” He answered shortly, “but she didn’t love me back, I got over it quickly, it was years ago. Honestly, I’ve forgotten until you just brought it up.” He understood you needed a distraction, so he gave it to you, as he always did. Didn’t matter if you asked for a war story and a made up one, whatever you asked of him he’d try to do.

You blinked, staring as he set your pearls down on your vanity, moving to work on your earrings. “What did it feel like?” Your voice came out in a whisper, causing Minho to look in the mirror to see you looking back at him. His heart skipped a beat, seeing the expression of longing on your face was almost too painful for him to see. A sweet girl like you shouldn’t be unhappy, yet here you are, unable to flap your wings like you should be.

“I wish I could tell you the beauty of it, my grace; but all I can tell you is the pain.” Minho said calmly, offering a polite smile to your reflection as he placed one earring down, moving to the next.

“It feels like a breath of fresh air after you’ve been suffocating for years. Like you’ve been lured in by a siren to live in the depths of the sea but finally you’ve been saved, being able To see the sun again.” Minho’s hands paused at your words, looking at you through the mirror once more. A pang in his chest follows as you look at him the way you did during dinner, only this time he notices.

“Your grace…” he whisperers. “It feels of the warm sun in the early summer, when you’re in a meadow surrounded by freshly bloomed daisies and dandelions. You know, when the breeze is just right? It feels… good.” Your small smile soon turns grim, watching as Minho sets the last piece of jewelry down. “It also hurts; like you said.” Minho stood silent, his heart pounding as you turned to face him; peering up into his sparkling eyes. “It hurts when I see that I can’t have you anyway that I want.” Minho’s breath hitched at your confession. “What do you mean… your grace… have me? I don’t seem to follow.”

You smiled painfully, reaching a manicured hand up to hold his cheek; stroking lightly. “I want you the way my brother wants the Dutchess, maybe even more. I don’t care if it’s forbidden… I want you. I want you to hold me, and do what they do in the dramas that my mother makes me turn off whenever they come on.” Your whispers travel across his now heated face.

“You… you’ve had too much to drink.” You scoffed at his stammering, surprising Minho. “No, I know what I said and I mean it. I’m a grown woman Minho, treat me as such.” You frowned, tired of being treated so fragilely.

Minho took your hand off his face, gazing down at you. “… treat you like a woman…” He looked into your eyes as he trailed off, your eyes drifted down to his chest. You nodded, looking back up to see him with parted lips and a frown. “Are you… are you in love with me?” You scoffed, feeling defensive at the possibility of rejection.

“You can’t question feelings, Minho, it’s something we can’t entirely understand. If you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but don’t try to-”

“thank you… for loving me.” He whispered. You frowned, “what do you mean?” He chuckled softly, “Thank you, for having feelings for me.” You watched as he bowed, pressing a chase kiss to the back of your hand. You flinched at the warmth of his lips.

“Minho…” he stood up, his hands caressing your cheeks as he moved closer. “This is forbidden, what we’re about to do, you know well that it is. But yet i’d still risk it, your grace. You find me worth the risk, you confessing to me is more than enough reason.” You tilted your head in confusion, “W-what are we about to do, Minho?” He smiles. “I’m going to make love to you, if that’s ok. I feel as if you deserve it.” He whispers.

Your cheeks flush, for the first time your eyes want to look anywhere but him. You’ve never done anything intimate with another before. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to… to touch me.” You whispered, looking down at his lips instead of his eyes that were trying to find yours.

Your lips part as you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, sighing as he then places one at the corner of your mouth. “I’ve been trying to be… respectful, your grace. But must you know, I've been wanting to feel your skin on mine for a while.” You tensed up at his confession. “H-huh?” Your voice was weak, a rush of arousal, heat making its way into your abdomen.

Minho’s thumb traced the outline of your cupid's bow. “Do you know how hard it’s been… hearing you touch yourself late at night, and all I can do is stand outside your door and listen?” Your face grew hot, “Listen to you whisper my name, you probably didn’t even mean too. Did you, your grace?” His voice was soft but that didn’t mean you were any less nervous. “U-uh, I thought I… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Minho chuckled softly at your pity excuse of an alibi.

“You can’t help it, I know. I’m the only one who takes care of you, it’s natural for you to call out to me in times like that. I find it adorable actually, that you need me. Your fingers sliding into your cunt, wishing that it was any part of me doing it instead. Are my assumptions correct, hm?” Minho tilted his head, his fingers grabbing ahold of your chin, making you look at him. It was as if your heart was in your ears by how loud it was currently beating.

“But even though I wasn’t able to help you, you always managed to cum. I know exactly what you sound like when you get there, I memorized it; you sound so fucking sweet, if I could record it I would, your grace.” You took in a deep breath, “Min-”, “What do you imagine that makes you cum every time? Do you imagine that your precious fingers are mine? What about… hm,” you watched in disbelief as he pondered other possibilities. “Ah, my tongue tasting you. Catching every last bit of you, not wasting a drop. Is it that, your grace?”

You were speechless, your mind blank as all you could feel were his words gliding right through you and straight to your know throbbing core. Imagining the scenarios described to you, like you could feel it.

“Oh, what about this. Do you like thinking about how well I can fuck you? How Just me slipping into you can make all the frustration go away? How I can make your mind blank, your head fuzzy and your legs shake as I fuck you just the way you tell me too. Is that what gets you off, my grace?” You couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Minho coos with a knowing grin, his hand traveling from your chin to grip your entire jaw, gently pulling you closer so the tip of your noses are grazing.

“So sweet, pretty, precious, aren’t you?” Your mind grew fuzzy. “Let me serve you, It’s my job; and I love to do my job.”

#skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz minho #lee minho x reader #skz lee know #skz angst #skz royal #skz hard thoughts #skz fluff

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calehenituse-brainrot · 2 years

Text

Of Dresses and Disguises

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

A plan of dresses and disguises is bound to be a disaster.

CONTENT WARNING: self-harm scars, self-harm shaming, drug usage, aphrodisiacs

To be truthful, you have no idea why Alver had suggested to recommend you a designer when you already knew one, but when he mentioned the bill being on him, you immediately jumped on the offer.

"The dress isn't complicated to make at all — it's simple and short," you had explained to the designer as you sketched out what kind of dress you wanted.

The designer takes your sketch, eyes raking the drawings with a keen eye, and over time, they began to glimmer with interest. "How scandalous!"

You let out a chuckle, taking a seat on the couch in the parlor. "I need it in black. And please add a white shawl so I won't get cold."

"In black? I must say, Miss [Name], your taste is impeccable," the designer complimented. "To have this style of dress shortened and corset removed. Would you like it to be form-fitting still?"

"Yes," you answered. "Shall we get my measurements?"

The designer clapped their hand and their assistants began to move. They measured and took notes of your size, jotting them down quickly before having you choose the fabric for the dress. Afterward was picking on jewelry and a matching purse to go with the dress.

It didn't take long for the designer to finish making the dress — they have been warned that your order must be prioritized as it was for urgent use — so when they returned two days later with the finished dress, purse, and jewelry, the operation began.

Your dress was a short black dress that stopped mid-thigh with a straight-across neckline and a thin draped hanging sleeve. You chose an elegant, tiered, pearly choker and a black purse with a golden chain to be your complimentary attire. You also added a white, sheer shawl to drape around your shoulders and tangled with your arms.

You were in the middle of doing your makeup to make sure you'd look unrecognizable when a few knocks on your door interrupted you. Reaching for kohl from your little makeup pouch, you exclaimed, "Come in!"

You began to stain your waterline with the kohl, seeing Cale appear from your door, dressed in a sleek black button-up with black trousers. He wore a black-based vest with golden detailing that made him look so regal. In his arms was probably his black blazer, folded neatly. His red hair has turned brown, tied with a golden ribbon.

You quickly finished your makeup before dusting your dress and turning around to face the man. When you faced him, you see Cale looking at you with a soft gaze.

"You look amazing," you complimented him with a smile, eying him up and down appreciatively. "Gold suits you."

"And you would, too," he says, handing you a black masquerade mask with golden detailing. You raised an eyebrow, noting that Cale was holding a plain black masquerade mask, silently asking why Cale was choosing to be humble tonight, to which he gave you a shrug as an answer.

You turned to the vanity, placing the mask on your face and before you could tie the ribbon behind your neck, Cale came over behind you, "Excuse me."

His fingers worked skillfully to tie the ribbon behind your head and when he was done, he caressed the point where your neck and shoulder meet gently. Shivers ran up your spine upon feeling his touch and you grasped it, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Cale leaned down, kissing the back of your neck affectionately. "You look breathtaking."

He glanced up at both of your reflections before his other hand came up to your thigh where your dress had hiked up, caressing the pale, straight bumpy lines that were peeking out. "Are you fine being dressed like this?"

You posed a little with a melancholic grin. "Just this once. No one will know who I am."

Cale stared at you through the mirror before he pulled away. He fixed the shawl properly around you so it won't look ruffled and crushed, his hand brushing against the scars on your biceps.

"You look amazing."

"Human!"

You both turned around when Raon burst the door open, flying into the room with a pout on his face. "Human, human, are you sure I don't have to follow you and [Name]?"

'Oh, so cute—!' You thought when you heard his confused, pleading voice. You saw Ohn and Hong walking into the room, their claws clacking on top of the hardwood floors.

"Wow, you look so beautiful, [Name]!" Hong complimented you, coming up to you and nuzzling your legs. "Thank you, Hong."

"I'm sorry you couldn't work beside us this time," you told them. "It's too risky."

"Just be careful," Ohn murmured, sitting on your vanity table to look up at Cale while Raon is perched around his shoulders.

"We'll be fine," Cale says, his other hand ruffling Ohn's head.

"Excuse me, Young Master-nim, Miss [Name]."

You all looked up to see Ron standing by the doorway. He gave you and Cale a polite smile. "Choi Han is ready."

"Oh, we have to get moving," you told them, moving to grab for your purse.

"Human, are you sure you can handle this?" Asked Raon anxiously, pouting.

You stood next to Ron, watching Cale talk to the kids to ease their anxiety about leaving Cale — most likely because he had been down in the dumps lately (you being the reason why) and they worry over him doing something dumb or borderline suicidal.

"I assume everything went well?"

You smiled at Ron's question. Of course, he'd want to know. "Yes. We both agreed to talk about it after things have settled down."

Ron let out a derisive chuckle. "Knowing what type of world we live in, I doubt that day will come soon."

"Mhm."

"Then?" Ron continued, now finally glancing at you. "Will you stay despite knowing that?"

He was asking whether or not you were still intending to leave to seek whatever it is that you wanted. Would you still leave even though you knew Cale returned your feelings?

You wished you could spit at the old man that he was purposefully making you feel selfish, but in a way, you are, aren't you? You were reminded of the voice that has been giving you headaches a few weeks ago, your head being so oddly quiet that you wanted to scream.

Despite the headaches, the voice was leading you to take your first step to get more clarity. They had given you a few days to choose whether you wanted to leave this all to pursue the answer of your existence here.

You turned to look at Ron with a sad smile. "No."

Ron's expressionless face cracked and you were stunned to be able to witness the way his eyebrows twitched in disappointment and eyes glazed with a melancholy look. He turned to look at you and while you never once had a father to care enough about you to be disappointed, you think about how bitter it must be because Ron's look was enough to crush your heart.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. Ron didn't say anything in response, turning to look at Cale instead when he came over with the kids.

Cale nodded at you and Ron. "Let's go."

Walking towards the parlor, you repeated some of the things you had agreed with Cale. His name was Robert Miles, a rich merchant that's traveling between the continents. You kept your name, [Name], posing as his escort for the night.

"Count Theo has several proposals, some accepted, some rejected by yours truly," you reminded him even though it wasn't necessary when you were nearing the parlor. "Road repairs, destroying functional bridges to make a better one, rebuilding a couple of administrative buildings, and many more."

"Cale-nim! [Name]!" Choi Han greeted you when Ron opened the door for you.

You saw that he was facing a mana communication device and it was on top of the table. Ron shut the door behind you all while you neared Choi Han, seeing Alver's face on the device.

He looked surprised when you came into the screen, perhaps barely able to recognize you. He smiled when he finally processed your appearance. "You look great, Miss [Name]."

"All thanks to you, Your Highness," you say, bowing your head a bit. "The designer you recommended me was amazing."

"I'm glad you went with the dress of my choice," Alver said.

Cale did a double-take. "Wait, what?"

"Now let me update you all—" Alver wastes no time to change the topic. "We spotted Baron Davis coming into the gambling house accompanied by escorts and Count Theo is already in there as well."

Baron Davis was the owner of the gambling house Count Theo frequents. He had connections with drug rings and a little bit on human trafficking, where some of the women he bought were allegedly used for his pleasures.

"Any chance they'll both be sitting at the same table tonight?" You asked. It'll be a bit of trouble if you're going to be distracting Baron Davis when Count Theo is near.

"Count Theo had been glancing towards Baron Davis ever since the man came in," Alver answered, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Damn," you murmured. You'll have to go all out and make sure Count Theo doesn't recognize you at all.

"I suggest teleporting there as quick as you can," Alver said, eyes glancing at Cale for a second before he looked back to you. "And, Miss [Name], again, you look wonderful."

You rolled your eyes seeing that the man was purposefully doing that to get some kind of reaction from Cale, though you doubted anything could get through the man. Alver gave you a gleeful smile before shutting off the call.

"Alright, let's go there before the night gets later," you turned to the rest, fixing your shawl.

Cale nodded towards the Black Dragon, wearing his plain black mask. "Raon, please."

"Leave this to me!" Raon acknowledged enthusiastically.

When you all appear in an alleyway not far from the gambling house, Choi Han and the kittens merged into the shadows to watch from afar and collect any documents they could use to incriminate Baron Davis.

"Human, I want to go with you!" Raon pleaded, looking at Cale with his big eyes.

"I guess—" Cale had just begun to speak when you grabbed his arm.

"Cale—!" You hissed under your breath. "You cannot be serious. That gambling house is full of cigarette smoke, drugs, and god knows what kind of pornographic scene we'd stumble upon inside. You want to let a child see all of that?"

Cale shut his mouth close and you let him go, opting to hug Raon instead. "I'm sorry, baby, but you can't go inside. You'd have to be older to get in."

"But I'm the mighty Raon Miru," Raon whined, surprising Cale because Raon rarely had to whine to get what he wanted.

"Well, in that case, the mighty Rain Miru could watch the area for me and Cale, right?" You cooed, holding Raon by his jaw and directing him to look into your eyes. You gave him a sweet smile with your dark red lips, "Hm? You can do it, right? Make us proud?"

It was endearing to see you bargaining with a child. Raon pouted before finally giving in, going limp into your arms as he mourned over not being able to work beside you all.

"Alright, go to your brother and sister and watch us from afar, okay? And listen to Choi Han well."

Cale watched Raon leave you both with arms crossed in front of his chest. You turned to him, slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow, and began walking together, "The night hasn't even started but I'm already tired."

"You're good with kids," Cale commented off-handedly, both of your eyes trained on the entrance to the gambling house.

"I try my best with them," you replied, walking closer to the entrance and seeing a tall, bulky man guarding the door. "I don't recall any security measures when entering the place."

"Evening, Sir," the man greeted you and Cale. "Your name?"

"Robert," Cale answered, taking out a few gold coins and giving them to the man. "Robert Miles."

Receiving the coins with both hands, the man scrambled to let you both in and bowed his head low as you walk passed him. You noted how he doesn't even ask you for your name, which means you must've looked like an actual escort. 'Good for me, I guess.'

Upon entering the building, your senses were overwhelmed by the colorful dresses and masks, the stench of tobacco, and something herbal in the air. Your best guess for the last one would probably be drugs. There were more women compared to men in the building, some of them crowding a noble or two, some sitting together, and you can see someone pining for a woman and making out with them on the dark corners.

"Vulgar," Cale said, eying the booths where a man was seated with a woman on his lap, swapping spit and grinding against each other. "Thank goodness Raon isn't here to see this."

'This place is like an orgy party,' commented the Fire of Destruction.

'It's gross,' murmured the thief with disgust.

'Smells horrible,' added the priestess.

"Look for our man," you reminded him. "Let's look around together."

A waiter with a tray of drinks passed you both and Cale easily snatched a glass, drinking the liquor with an appreciative hum. "Don't drink anything while you're here. They got some pretty strong stuff."

"Hmm, I know," you murmured, hugging his arm closer to your chest, and Cale's face reddens. "We'll look suspicious if we don't mingle with the others."

"Before that—" Cale began. "The dress. Was it... Hyung-nim's choice?"

You turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Please don't tell me his words managed to get under your skin."

"It didn't," he says. "But, again, why did you give him the privilege to choose your dress?"

'Are you upset she didn't ask you?' asked the Super Rock with a tone that Cale knew had he had a face, it would be smiling.

"Are you upset I didn't ask you?" You voiced out the Super Rock's question to the world. "I just think he'd know what kind of dress would be the most outrageous, considering he's more on the reserved side."

"Am I not reserved?" Cale asked with a frown, not because he was upset, but because he was confused.

"You've seen me with nothing but a bathrobe on and you didn't flinch," you reminded him of the incident in Ubarr territory, causing his cheeks to redden upon the memory. "You've seen more of a woman's skin compared to him. Besides, your standards of modesty are perhaps a bit skewed compared to his."

"Hello, hello..."

You both turned to the new voice that had greeted you. You were stunned when you were met with a middle-aged man with navy blue hair with strands of white hair slicked back, showing off his ruggedly handsome face that was accompanied by light wrinkles and crow's feet on the corner of his eyes.

On his sides were two women, looking slightly older than you were as they hang onto his arms.

"Good evening, Baron Davis," Cale greeted him first, bowing his head down, which you followed mutely.

"Oh? You know who I am?" Asked Baron Davis with a grin.

"It would be unbecoming of me to enter a party without knowing who's the host," Cale replied.

In an almost comedic timing, a waiter passed by and Cale placed his glass on top of the tray they were walking around holding. He held out his hand and Baron Davis took it, firmly shaking each other hand.

"Robert Miles," Cale introduced himself.

"Simon Davis," Baron Davis says slowly, eyes raking all over your body as if Cale wasn't standing in front of him. "What do you do for a living, Mr. Miles?"

"I'm a merchant," Cale answered, going through the background Alver have prepared for them because if he was going to pay attention to Baron David practically leering at you like a piece of meat, he might as well fuck up this whole plan and beat the shit out of the guy. "Born in the Roan Kingdom but my parents themselves are merchants so I could never stay in one place for far too long."

"Oh, the life of a nomad, eh? How wonderful," Baron Davis says. "And may I ask what about the lady beside you? What is her name?"

You bowed your head humbly, feeling Cale's arms tense the whole time you were holding him. You can feel the glare of the women beside him, most likely not wanting to have the man looking around for other women when they haven't sucked him dry yet. "My name is [Name], Sir Davis."

Baron Davis raised an eyebrow. "No last name?"

"I am a commoner, Sir Davis," you answered.

"You were wearing such an... elegant dress, I thought you were a part of the nobility." Baron Davis's attempt to flirt did not go over your head.

You let out a giggle and placed a hand on Cale's chest, leaning into him with a pout, ignoring the frantic drum of his heartbeat underneath your palm. "It's all thanks to Mr. Miles right here, Sir. He bought me everything I'm wearing today. Isn't he so kind?"

Baron Davis hummed. "What kind of merchant are you, Mr. Miles? Anything specific that you sell?"

"I focus on textile tradings," Cale answered automatically.

"I see..." Baron Davis kept his eyes on you, a sickening grin on his face as he enjoyed the view. "Well, I have a booth that I use to sit down and talk with anyone I find interesting. Mr. Miles, would you do the honor of being that person tonight, along with Miss [Name], of course?"

Cale had a feeling Baron Davis was only after you tonight but hey, at least the plan was working, right?

"It would be such a privilege to share a conversation with you, Baron," Cale said smoothly.

'Human, is everything alright?' Raon's anxious voice appeared in his head just as they were heading to a booth together.

'Everything is fine,' Cale replied. 'How is everything on that side?'

'Choi Han and a couple of other people are looking over papers in an office but we haven't found anything yet,' Raon explained, voice sounding so disappointed that he couldn't tell Cale any good news.

'It's okay, try to look behind bookshelves or under the floorboards,' Cale reassured the dragon. 'Keep us updated.'

"They've got into his office but they haven't found anything incriminating yet," Cale whispered to you while Baron Davis and his women were sliding into the booth.

"Oh, it's so soft," you say gleefully when you sat down on the plush seats of the booth, keeping up an act of an innocent girl.

"You think so, Miss [Name]? My bed is softer than these seats," Baron Davis suggested with a grin that Cale wanted to rip off. "Maybe I should show you later tonight."

You tried your best not to gag. "Oh, I would love to but..."

You snuggled to Cale, hand on his chest as it slowly trailed down to hold his clenched fist. "I promised Mr. Miles I'd warm up his bed tonight."

"I envy you, Robert," Baron Davis muttered, leaning back into his seat. "Tell me, what part of Miss [Name] do you like the most?"

Cale didn't have the chance to even think of an answer when Baron Davis continued to speak of you in the most perverse way Cale has ever heard; "Is it her tits? Does she sucks you off good?"

You were thankful for the dim lighting near the booth area because your face is flared red and your eyes had grown glossy. Never in your life have you ever heard someone talk about you so degradingly. It made your stomach drop and makes you feel nauseous.

"Are you the type to stuff her cunt full?"

You wanted to fucking cry.

You didn't expect Baron Davis to be someone so fucking disgusting to the point he could talk about this so openly and without any shame. You expected a little bit of decorum! Were your expectations set too high?

You held onto Cale's clenched fist, noting that it was shaking out of pure anger.

'What the fuck,' the thief cussed. 'Is this guy fucking sick in the head?'

'How dare he—!' the Super Rock was at a loss for words upon hearing such disgusting remarks.

'Burn him! Burn him alive! What a fucking sicko!' shouted the Fire of Destruction with rage.

Before Cale was successfully persuaded by the crazy bastard's suggestion to burn this whole establishment down, a figure appeared beside their booth.

"Simon!"

You tensed, hearing the familiar grating voice enter your ears. You turned, seeing Count Theo — you would recognize the slimy bastard even if he's wearing a mask — standing while holding a gorgeous mahogany box with an iron latch.

"Theo!" Baron Davis greeted enthusiastically. "Come, sit down, friend! How have you been? How's the Palace treating you?"

Because Baron Davis was already sitting with two women, Count Theo opted to sit next to you, placing the box on the table. You tensed a bit, shuffling closer to Cale until one of your legs was hanging onto his thigh.

Count Theo sighed. "It's been hell with that bitch [Name] around."

You saw Baron Davis glancing at you for a second and immediately reacted. "Oh my, I don't work at the Palace, though?"

"Huh?" Count Theo looked at you with a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, pardon me, Sir," you bowed your head a bit. "My name is [Name]. I had thought you were talking about me."

Count Theo's eyes drank the image of you and stopped only when Cale's arm appear to pull you by your waist. He glanced at Cale for a moment and when he saw brown-reddish eyes already glaring darkly at him, he stand down and looked back at you instead, "Where do you work, Miss [Name]?"

You tried your best to mimic Marilyn Monroe's iconic tone. "Well, Mr. Miles said I just need to look pretty and warm his bed. I would never work in the Palace when Mr. Miles treats me so kindly."

Count Theo's eyes glanced at the arm around your hips. "Mr. Miles...?"

"Theo, this is Mr. Robert Miles and his company tonight, Miss [Name]," said Baron Davis, gesturing to Cale. "Mr. Robert Miles, this is Theo, a good friend of mine."

"Mhmm, nice to meet you, Mr. Miles," Count Theo said before looking back at you and grinning. "Mhm, yes, you're not the [Name] I was talking about. She doesn't have tits and legs as great as yours, and she certainly wouldn't be dressed like you. The bitch's a fucking prude."

He raised his hand, the back of his hand caressing your arm and pausing when he came across your scars. "Oh, what's this? What a shame to see scars on such a beautiful body. They ruin you."

"Scars?" Questioned Baron Davis.

"Hmm, I've heard from my colleagues that that bitch [Name] always wore long sleeves probably because she has a lot of scars like this, something about being sad—" Count Theo snorted. "What a waste of fucking time. If she wanted to die, she should have just ended her life instead of seeking attention like that."

You felt your throat throb uncomfortably as you forced yourself not to cry, chest going tight as you mull over the decision of wearing such a dress. God fucking dammit, you get that it looks a bit horrid, but must such hurtful words be said?

"May I ask what's in the box?" Cale asked, pulling you closer to him and rubbing your waist with his thumb to calm you down.

You leaned to his neck, burying your face there to calm yourself down — feeling his warmth, breathing in and out with him, his scent calming the hurricane in your head, and using him as a place to lean on. You placed a hand on his neck and placed an appreciative kiss there.

"Thank you," you murmured against his skin, as quietly as you can. You can feel his heart pounding and smile at the effect you had on him.

"I am glad you asked, Mr. Miles," said Count Theo, opening the iron latch of the box and showing a few herbs rolled into a sheer, thin white paper.

'Shit,' Cale thought.

"Oh, my friend, you're a godsend!" Baron Davis reached and grabbed for one and Count Theo grabbed for his own.

"Mr. Miles, you must have one for yourself," Baron Davis said, having one of the women light up the end of the blunt for him. He inhaled with the blunt still in-between his lips, the end of it lighting up slightly before dimming and then he inhaled the smoke, some of it coming out of his nostrils.

You peeked at the box and many thoughts ran through your mind. Was Cale familiar with drugs? Had he ever done it back in the day? Does he get high easily? Can he even get high?

'Fuck, I didn't expect this,' you thought. You tried weed once or twice in college and thankfully you didn't get addicted to it — actually, you smoked more cigarettes back in college than weed.

Cale was the most rational between the two of you so he must not be in any situation where his consciousness and rationality be compromised.

Mustering the most innocent and cute voice you have, you asked; "Can I have one?"

Cale glanced at you, most likely confused. You whisper to him, "Just follow my lead."

"Of course, you can, sweetheart," Count Theo said, pushing the box towards you. "Mr. Miles, look at how Miss [Name] is willing to try one. Won't you grab one for yourself as well?"

"It's okay," you say, reaching for one. "We'll share it like how we always do!"

Cale was flabbergasted. What? Too many variables have shown up tonight that he was slowly growing frustrated with each time he has to improvise.

He watched Count Theo light up your blunt and you held it in between your fingers. With a grin, you settled yourself to straddle his lap, your center pressed against his crotch. His arms are around your waist, pulling you close so your breasts flushed against his chest.

"Whatever you do, don't inhale the smoke," you murmur to him before taking a drag of the blunt while pulling down Cale's chin so he'd open his mouth.

You leaned close to him, open your mouth to exhale the smoke into his mouth, and then crashed your lips together. You inhaled all the smoke back right into your lungs to prevent him from inhaling too much and let him kiss you, your hand still holding the blunt. You wanted to cough but swallowed it down, causing your throat to ache and you squirmed on top of him.

Cale licked your lips before pushing his tongue in, exploring your mouth, and twirling your tongue together just like how you did it to him a few days ago. His hand came up to the small of your back, wanting you to be so impossibly close to him that you'd merge as one.

"Mhmm," you whimpered when Cale unconsciously pushed his hips up to yours, the growing bulge brushing against your damp panties. "A-ahh..."

You pulled away from the kiss, licking your lips before taking another drag of the blunt while Cale spoke to them with his cheeks and the tip of his ear flushed red, "Hm, it's nice, I suppose."

'... That's genuinely the hottest thing I've ever seen a woman do,' the thief commented.

'I know, right? She was good with it, too,' murmured the Fire of Destruction.

"What an interesting way to share," Baron Davis pointed out, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy, no doubt having a hard-on.

"Say, Miss [Name], do you think we could share as well?" Teased Count Theo, exhaling a puff of smoke from his mouth.

"Oh, no, I can't," you say, removing yourself from Cale's lap, showing off the hard-on the man was having to the world. "I can only do it with Mr. Miles."

Count Theo flicked his tongue. "You're a greedy one, aren't you, Mr. Miles?"

Cale thought about how close the two of you are and how embarrassed he was to grind up to you like earlier. "I suppose I am."

"Sir, what is it like to work in the Palace?" You asked, looking at Count Theo with big, puppy dog eyes. "Is it as fun as they say? Do you get to meet His Highness every day?"

Seeing such a beautiful woman questioning him about his line of work with so much awe, Count Theo puffed up his chest and spoke with pride; "Of course! I used to be able to converse with His Highness Alver every day, however ever since that bitch came, my plans been going down the drain."

"Hmm, is it because of that [Name] woman?" you asked, prodding further, hoping Count Theo would admit something. You mustered up the courage to touch his arm and asked, "What did she do?"

Count Theo's face flushed red. "O-oh, she's a friend of His Highness and got a job through him. The bastard put her as a supervisor for project proposals in the office and she's been rejecting mine every time I applied one."

"Oh, proposals? What do you do with a proposal?" You asked, putting up a clueless facade hoping the bastard is into that sort of thing. Your body tensed when you feel Cale's hand on top of your thigh, his thumb brushing your skin. You took up the blunt again, taking a long drag of it before inhaling the smoke.

To be truthful, even though he wasn't used to being so intimate with someone, much less to make out with them but the mission so far had been in his favor with you being someone by his side because you have been putting your attention on him all night, but now that Count Theo has been the one to take your attention, he's slightly irked seeing you only talking to the man.

"Oh, you know, I try to make the people's lives better -- give them proper housing, this and that," bragged the Count.

Cale raised an eyebrow. What the hell is he talking about? According to you, all of Count Theo's projects mostly caused a disturbance to the commoner's day-to-day activities so you would only accept the ones you deemed urgent enough, but Count Theo was always trying to drag through the whole thing to make it last longer than necessary. "Probably so he can yap about how busy he is to his colleagues," you have told him earlier.

Cale heard you coo, no doubt thinking about how you'd rather stick your socked foot into a washbasin full of water than do this. "How kind of you."

"Don't tell me you're the one responsible for the rebuilding of the bridge near the administrative building?" Cale piped into the conversation, an amused eyebrow raised. He wants to see what type of outrageous shit Count Theo would spew. He had no idea which bridge he himself is talking about but he did manage to remember that small detail when you were complaining about it. "It looks much better than when I last visited."

"Oh, you've seen the contractors working, huh?" Count Theo seemed proud. "See, Mr. Miles, you can see what type of changes I'm doing to the kingdom."

"Though, I must admit that you put a lot of attention on that part of town," Cale pointed out. "Any reason why? A family member living there?"

You covered your mouth and put up an expression of scandalized when Cale continued, "Or perhaps a mistress?"

Count Theo frowned, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Cale. "You're quite the curious one, aren't you, Mr. Miles?"

"No need to feel ashamed if you do," Cale pressed on, placing his arm around your shoulder. And for an added flair, his other hand reached for your chin so you would face him instead, "After all, I'm not exactly a refined man myself."

Count Theo looked at the way Cale was now looking down at you and squishing your cheek while you were whining for him to let go or he'll ruin the makeup you've done so hard on. He let out a low chuckle, "No, not a mistress. But something much more valuable."

"More valuable than a woman?" Cale questioned, making sure to have his tone as bewildered as possible. Count Theo snorted, "Mr. Miles, there are many things that are more valuable than a woman."

"I have several friends in that area, you see," Count Theo said with a grin. "They can't exactly... work being so near to the building but with my people in the area, they're having a much easier time."

"What a smart man, eh?" Baron Davis suddenly added, snickering. "He decided to risk it near the place they wouldn't be looking around in."

'Human! We found it!' Raon's voice smacked him back to reality. 'There was a space under the floor and Choi Han destroyed it! He said he found the proof we need!'

Thank Gods! Now they can run from this establishment.

"Please have something to nibble on while you all enjoy your time here," said Baron Davis, snapping his fingers and a waiter coming over with a tray of cut-up chocolate bars. "Especially Miss [Name]."

You gulped a bit, watching Baron David and his women eating a piece each. You reached for the chocolate and ate it, trying to erase the slightly spicy, bitter aftertaste in your mouth from the blunt. Goddamit, why couldn't they just make edibles instead of rolling a horrible blunt?

You sucked on the chocolate, finding it taste a bit different than your average chocolate. It was sweet with a bit of a bitter tang to it and a spicy aftertaste.

"[Name], they've done it," Cale whispered to your ear, his breath caressing your earlobe causing you to jolt.

"G-good," you stuttered, your whole body feeling like it was on fire.

You leaned to Cale and when he touched your cheek to see what was wrong, you whimpered. Cale's face reddens when he heard the lewd sound and when he tried to help you sit up straighter, you mewled and nuzzled to him.

You feel uncomfortable to the point it was excruciating and the slightest touch by Cale set your whole body on fire. You feel your panties going damper than earlier and tried to look at Baron Davis through bleary vision, seeing him sitting there while making out with his woman, one of his hands squeezing her chest.

"C-Ca—!" Cale's hand came up to cover your mouth to stop you from saying his real name. His eyes widened when he realized how hot your skin was.

You grasped at his wrist weakly and gave him a pleading look. He slowly lowered his hand and leaned to you, hearing you whimper, "We... have to... out..."

Cale immediately stood up, knowing something had gone wrong.

'Cale, it's either the drug or the chocolate, or both,' suggested the Super Rock. 'She has been drugged.'

"Theo, it was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid [Name] and I will need to go first," Cale said, excusing you both.

You leaned to him, body feeling heavier than usual. Your shawl dragged through the ground, some of it still tangled around your arm. Cale cursed inside his head and approached a waiter, "Excuse me, but is there a private room?"

He would love to go out and look for the others immediately, but your temperature was spiking up at a concerning pace and it made his heart race. The waiter had pointed out the way to Cale, looking nonchalant despite you whimpering in his arm and looking unwell. Cale concluded that many have probably drugged women and taken advantage of them here.

Cale rushed into the room the waiter had pointed out and locked it behind him. He leads you to a couch in the room and before he could lay you down, you gave up trying to stand up on your own two feet, letting yourself fall on top of him.

He let out a groan of pain, his head banging quite loudly against the couch. "[Name]?"

"C-Cale," you whispered his name, borderline moaning it. You pushed yourself to crawl up so you can be chest-to-chest, looking at the man with eyes clouded with lust.

You stared at him for a second before kissing the man senselessly, grinding yourself against his bulge and whimpering in his mouth. Cale froze on the couch, feeling you grab his hand.

"Oh, Cale—" Your voice sounds strangled. You lead his hand to your breast, forcing his hand to squeeze it. "Touch me, please."

'Aphrodisiacs! The chocolate was laced with aphrodisiacs!' screamed the gluttonous priestess in panic.

'Cale, stop her!' Yelled the Super Rock when you began to pull down your dress by the neckline. Cale grabbed your hand and the other hand was used to fix your neckline.

"[Name], calm down—!" Cale jolted when you pressed down your center to his bulge, moving your hips. You moaned loudly as you did so, the sound so fucking erotic and sexy that Cale could feel his pants becoming too tight.

'This woman is a fucking menace when horny, holy shit,' commented the Fire of Destruction in awe.

"Can you please focus?!" Cale yelled at the ancient power, switching to hold you by your hips so you won't move. You whined and Cale switched the position so you would be the one lying down while Cale sat on your abdomen, pining your wrists above your head to lock you in place.

You looked up at him, face flushed red, hair messy, and pupils blown with lust. You closed your eyes, letting out a whine, "C-Cale..."

'Knock her out!' The thief commanded.

'With what?!' Cale questioned.

"Cale, please, please, please," you pleaded in hushed whispers, squirming underneath him. "Please, touch me."

Cale closed his eyes so he doesn't have to see you beneath him, pleading to be touched. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

"Cale, pleaseee," you moaned, feeling like if you don't get to be touched, you can die from the heat of your body. "Cale, I feel horrible. Please, please, touch me."

Cale kept his eyes shut but his ears were still able to hear the noises you make.

'There's no way you can last like this until the aphrodisiac's effect disappears,' says the Super Rock.

'I say let the woman cum,' said the thief. 'Give her the relief she needs and let's get it over with.'

"I'm not going to take advantage of her," Cale stated firmly, holding you down when you squirm, thrusting your hips up to get some kind of friction. He'd leave you alone if he could so you could probably deal with this yourself but he can't do that when they're in enemy's territory, one where it's crawling with men waiting for a vulnerable woman to corner.

"Cale," you whispered. "Please?"

'You know, your self-control is something else,' said the Fire of Destruction, genuinely in awe.

'Instead of being like this, I suggest at least trying to reach the exit with her,' Super Rock said.

Cale knew that waiting for help like this is useless and might get you both in more trouble if you were caught. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly released your wrists, prompting you to curl yourself up just as he got off of you.

"[Name], we have to get out of here," he whispered to your ear, taking your arm and putting it across his shoulder. "We can't stay here."

He pulled you up, trying his best to ignore the way your lips brushed against his jaw so lovingly, going down to his neck and leaving a bunch of lipstick marks all over his skin. He stood up with you hanging by his shoulder, holding you by the waist and nearly limping to towards the door. Cale finds relief and disgust at the fact that everyone in this place is so fucked in the head that they don't see anything wrong with a man dragging an intoxicated woman across the establishment. Plus, it seemed everyone is either stoned or drunk to even realize he was summoning a little bit of wind to his feet to help him get across quicker.

'You're gonna leave without causing at least some degree of havoc?' taunted the thief and if Cale could see them, he's sure he would find them with a smirk and an eyebrow raised. 'That's not very Cale Henituse of you.'

'Come on, kid,' added the Fire of Destruction, 'That David guy talked about [Name] like that and you're just going to let him slide?'

'I don't agree with causing havoc but... perhaps make sure they could never do that sort of thing again,' suggested the Super Rock.

'Make them regret it,' said the priestess.

Cale exited the place with you nearly passing out, not even going to stop and question where that bulky security man had been standing by when they entered the place. Once you were both out of sight, Cale flew to the top of the smaller houses where he had seen Choi Han's silhouette.

"Cale-nim! [Name]!" Choi Han called, eyes wide when Cale landed gently beside them with your face flushed red, sweating, and panting. Choi Han takes you from Cale's hold, carrying you bridal-style, and was immediately stunned to feel your how hot your skin was. "What happened to her?"

Ohn and Hong who are perched on Choi Han's shoulders looked at you with concerned gazes while Raon floated right on top of you, "Human, she looks so red! Like a tomato! Is she going to be okay? She's not going to die, is she?"

"She's going to be fine if we go back to Ron to have her looked at," said Cale, taking off his mask and throwing it away before he took off his blazer as well and draping it on top of you. "She had been drugged, most likely aphrodisiacs. She had previously been smoking a drug, too, so I'm hoping at least maybe Ron would know the after effects."

"Raon-nim, please transport us quickly to Ron," Choi Han said to the Black Dragon.

Cale sees your head lolled to the side before they are teleported into the duchy, specifically into your room. Choi Han quickly placed you on your bed, turning to look at Cale when the man got to the side of your bed, sitting by your bedside. Cale looked anxious as he turned to give Choi Han a command, "Choi Han, go look for Ron."

"Yes, Cale-nim." Choi Han turned around and left while Raon showed himself to Cale.

"What about me, human? What should I do?" asked the child anxiously, restless as he threw glances at you.

Cale held the dragon close so he keeps his eyes on Cale and not you. "[Name] would want you to not stress about this. She's okay, she's just a bit out of it, okay?"

Raon looked down, nuzzling to your side with the kittens. You huffed, feeling your whole body being set on fire but having some sense in you to not push the kids away. You fluttered your eyes open, glancing at Cale's anxious gaze. "W-what's happening?"

"You were drugged with aphrodisiacs in the chocolate," Cale answered. "After smoking that drug, I just need to be sure there's no after-effect for you."

You remembered smoking that blunt and let out an anxious laugh. "S-sorry..."

"It's alright," Cale reassured you. "You saved our disguise."

Your bedroom door swung open by an anxious Choi Han, Ron following closely behind. He approached you on the bed, looking over your complexion quickly before checking your temperature and pulse. He took off your mask to get a proper look at your full-blown pupil and let out a sigh, "The aphrodisiac she consumed are quite strong for her stature and body weight. Choi Han mentioned about drug usage before the aphrodisiac entered her system?"

"We were forced to smoke some kind of drug but [Name] managed to get me out of that situation," Cale explained. He refused to explain how you managed to do that since it'll be too much for both him and you for everyone to know.

"It probably intensified the effects of the aphrodisiac and make it last longer," Ron explained. "Since we don't really have an antidote for such things, the only way is to have her sleep this one out until the effects disappear. I'll have to knock her out."

Cale paled. "O-okay."

"She will be safe in my care, Young Master-nim," Ron reassured him with a benign smile. "Now please leave us alone."

The kittens jumped to Cale's arms and everyone had to anxiously leave you to Ron, but before Cale could leave, Ron stopped him. The butler gave Cale a slightly playful gaze. "Perhaps clean up a bit before you meet anyone else, hm, Young Master-nim?"

Cale stared at Ron for a minute before nodding slowly, leaving your room and heading towards his.

Ron turned to look back at you and let out a tired sigh. 'Oh, what should I do with you, Miss [Name]?'

Meanwhile, Cale was busy ignoring the surprised and flustered gazes of the servants when he walked by them. However, when he managed to meet his stepmother in the hallway, he knew something was wrong when he saw his mother's slightly scandalized look.

"Oh, uh, Cale," she greeted him, looking him up and down. "Where have you been? You're... dressed up nicely."

Cale didn't even try to think much of a lie. "[Name] and I went to dinner."

Violan covered her face with her fan, eyes scanning over Cale's face. "I-I see that [Name] have forgiven you for what you've done."

"Fortunately, yes."

Violan looked away from Cale and hurried to leave. "Well then, have a good night, Cale."

Cale nodded. "You as well, Mother."

He finally arrived to his room, letting the kids invade his bed first as he took off his vest. He approached the vanity and eyes widened in shock when he saw lipstick marks all over his lips, jaw, and neck. Is this how he had been walking around this whole time?

"I'm an idiot," he murmured to himself, rubbing his temple in exasperation.

#cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of count's family #tcf cale #tcf choi han #tcf alberu #raon miru

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