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ma1dita · 2 months

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its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve.

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift.

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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forgeofthenine · 6 months

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Curious about a classic trope. Loved one hides and injury! Maybe s/o got injured and hid it away because they were too worried about Dammon/Zevlor/Rolan? How would the bachelor trio react to finding out their loved on hid an injury?

Thanks for requesting this one Anon, it was very fun to write <3

The bachelors when their partner hides an injury

Dammon

Believe it or not, despite being caught up in his work Dammon is actually very observant

As soon as you walk past him in the forge trying to hide a limp he's already downing his tools and scooping you up

Absolutely carries you inside and sets you down on a chair, the type to kneel in front of you and ask what happened

Dammon listens to everything you say as he rolls up your pant leg and checks your ankle/foot for injuries

Lets out little hums as he wraps it up to keep it stable

I hope you weren't expecting to walk by yourself while still hurt, that's just not happening

You can also expect a heart to heart with him another day where Dammon asks exactly why you wanted to hide the injury

He's honestly so good at communication, this man is husband material

Once he understands where you're coming from the two of you definitely talk things out, ending with Dammon pulling you onto his lap and giving you a kiss

Zevlor

He takes one look at you and just knows

Do you really think this man hasn't tried to hide his fair share of injuries?

Zevlor is breaking out the med kit right away

He's so experienced with emergency and small injury treatment from being a hellrider that he's got you patched up in no time

Doesn't matter if it's a cut, scrape, sprain, or particularly large bruise

Insists you take at least a couple days to rest and recover in bed, even just for his own peace of mind at this point

Another man that will ask why you wanted to hide it, he gives the vibes that he'd ask over dinner

Zevlors honestly so understanding, holds your hand the whole time you two are speaking

Absolutely tells you how he feels about everything too and it ends up being a very productive conversation

You'll notice that Zevlor holds you just a little bit tighter at nights for the next week or two

Rolan

Takes the longest out of all of the bachelors, but he still notices quicker than a normal person

He's so used to Cal and Lia hiding minor injuries from him that he knows what to look for

It's a great excuse for him to break out the new healing spell he's learnt, just sit still for a moment and you'll feel much better

In the moment he seems very unbothered, proud of his work even, but later you notice something is off

It's only when the two of you are snuggled up in bed, Rolan wrapping you up tight in his arms, that he brings up what's on his mind

Even if the injury was only minor, it does make his mind dwell on why you'd keep something like that from him

Please just reassure him that you didn't want to worry him, and he'll feel much better if you promise to tell him about future injuries

Expect at least a few kisses from him that night

If you go up to him a few weeks later with a paper cut Rolan will heal it with a spell while playfully acting like it's lifesaving treatment

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #bri answers

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mshalfemptygirl · 1 year

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Spit Your Love On Me (S.R)

Plot: Spencer Reader are having an enjoyable Saturday night that just might get better.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Contents: smut (oral sex male receiving) and fluffy, just a lovely couple loving each other. A bit of teasing, cause I like it.

A/N: Thank you so much for you guys liked my fics. I have 5 now and they are getting a lot of likes. Comment and Reblog them please, my heart melts with every interaction. I’ll let the link for Spencer Reid Masterlist in the end. Love y’all. Requests are open! Hope you like it! Oh, of course, Måneskin inspire me in this one, like always.

It was a typical Saturday night, Spencer and I have a tradition of watching a movie, cooking dinner afterwards, and talking about random things in our lives until three in the morning. And since it was late, he let me sleep here and he woke me up with kisses on my neck every Sunday morning.

We had been dating for four months and just being intimate enough to sleep in the same bed, we never had sex. It wasn't for lack of desire, we agreed not to rush with it and let it happen naturally. I tease him a lot for fun, he doesn’t complain ‘cos he knows that I would never force him to do anything he doesn't want to. By the way, everytime I call him “hot”, he blushes violently, it’s just too funny. We spend a lot of time in the kitchen today, cooking pasta and drinking wine, he has the gift of making simple everyday things cool. I don't know how people live without Spencer Reid by their side.

We were washing dinner dishes together, he washed and I dried everything, it was a system that worked and it may seem silly, but in those moments I felt close to him.We get stuck in our world and nothing else matters. He looked at me all the time, once, he told me that looking at me was like looking at the goddess Aphrodite. In fact, that I was much prettier than her. What a lie.

I had already dried everything and put it away, just missing the wine glasses he was washing. Spencer was a tall man and I was a short woman, but I was glad that today I was wearing high-heeled boots that made one have quicker access to the back of his neck. Slowly, I arrived from behind, put my hand on his waist and kissed the back of his neck, he shivered in reaction.

"Baby, I'm going to end up breaking the glass," I chuckled. He was the most precious thing in this world. "Sorry, it's just that I miss you", he finished washing the glass, closed the tap before saying,"But you saw me yesterday and the day before yesterday . We spend a lot time together". I gave him another kiss on the back of his neck “I know but it's not enough, I've always wanted you all to myself, all the time".

He turned to me and placed an icy hand on my face, I melt with every touch of yours, sometimes I feel like a porcelain doll that can break at any moment. "Spence, I love you so much, you know that, right?!", he smiled. I will never get tired of this view, his face brings me peace and his presence comforts me, it's only been four months together but it seems so much longer. "I love you too, very much."

And his gaze drifted towards my lips and I knew what I should do, I kissed him and honestly, his kisses always awaken something in me, it looks like that with each kiss I gain more years of life. After several wet kisses he suddenly stopped, he looks uncomfortable and and his cheeks gradually gained a shade of pink, something that was not uncommon to see. He turned his face away.

"Baby, are you alright?", he shook his head. "Something's wrong, tell me." He looked into my eyes, I watch him bit his bottom lip, he was nervous. “Pff, this situation is embarrassing. I'm little...excited, you know?" I frowned. I didn't understand. Excited??? Wait, he was aroused. Because of me. Gezz! "Baby, were you telling me you're hard ‘cause of me?".

"Yes, I am. This situation is pretty embarrassing. I think it’s better go take a cold shower, sorry.", he started to move however I stopped him. It seemed too cruel if I didn't help him now, I wanted to please him, I wanted to taste him, I wanted to finally have an intimate moment with the man I loved. I didn't filter my next words, they came out of my mouth faster than lightning, I couldn't contain my desire.

"Spencer, wait. This doesn't have to be embarrassing, I can help you. I know we promised not to rush things but I want to make you feel good, I want this. Let me help you, I get down on my knees now if you want but only if you say you want to. Let me taste you.", I could see his innocent eyes turn black, I knew how much he loved the audios and how my tease could get to him and confessing that I wanted to get on my knees for him, made him immobile, going over what I said in your head over and over like a song.

"Spence? My love?!", He blinked his eyes and took a deep breath, I was tense. Whatever his command was, I would do it. "I want this, please, I need you", he confessed to me, it felt like he was telling me a secret that had been kept for a long time. Then, I gave him a soft kiss that natually became a needy kiss. I went down to his neck, giving kisses and licking his skin, I know that teasing is something important in intercourse and I wanted him to have a good experience.

I unbuttoned his shirt and trailed kisses down the V line and looked up, he was aware of my every move. "Can I go on, love?" he shakes his head. “Love, I need words”, I want hear it, consent is key for this to work, for it to be good for both me and him. It is the basics that every human being should know. “Yes, baby”.

I took off his belt and lowered his pants, his underwear was white and was already marked with his pre-cum. I placed a kiss on his cock over the fabric. "Please angel, I can’t wait any longer", he whimpered, my love is so needed. I laughed, he was desperate for this. "Calm down love, we have plenty of time. And oh, I want to hear your moans, so don't be shy", next I took his underwear off, I was trying to be very gentle with him, I wanted to go step by step, very slowly.

I went from bottom to top before popping his cock into my mouth, Spence let out a loud groan, feeling the pleasure take over your body. It was the best thing I've ever heard in my life. Gradually I increased the pace, he threw his head back and held tight to the kitchen counter. I felt his body vibrate under my touch, so I decided to tease him a bit.

"Do you like it, babe? Have your cock in my mouth? Such a good boy” he moaned again, he whispers a lot of "yes, yes, yes" and I went back to what he was doing, feeling proud of it. Seeing him get messed up for me is wonderful, I love him so much and would do anything for my boy. Not much time later, he looked me in my eyes to say, "I'm almost there, Y/N, let me cum. Please.". Fuck, it would be so good to taste him. I took it out of my mouth again, never stopping my hand movements "Come for me, love, I’m waiting for it for so long", I intensified the movements and he yelled my name before spitting his love in my face. He was out of breath and so was I, and my makeup was ruined. He will be the death of me.

"Did you liked it, Spence?", On his face he had a smirk when he saw my painted face, behind that little angel face, there's a very dirty mind that I really want to explore. I can imagine the possibilities."Yeah, I'm in heaven, your mouth is so good. Just so fucking good. And I messed up your makeup, I'm so sorry."

I got up from the floor, trying to wipe my face with my hand, now the one who looked like a mess was me "Oh come on, I know you weren't sorry about that. I hope you liked it because the day I have you inside me, then you'll be in heaven", I finished with a soft kiss on his lips, I could spend hours doing this with him, I would never get tired of it. Afterwards, we went to the bathroom to clean up the mess we made in the kitchen, and after today, we're going to do more than sleep in that bed.

Talk to me

Spencer Reid Masterlist

A/N: let me know if you want me to tag you

TAG

@thebloomingeagle

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #sub spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fandom

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onceuponapuffin · 1 month

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Fanatic Intervention Part 3!!

Okay, this thing needs a name. Please suggest ideas in the comments :) I know this part is tedious, but the thing with self-insert is you have Establishing to do before any Real Action happens. We'll get there, just hang on.

//Edited to include title.

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***********

The shaking must have been more visible than you thought, because Muriel is at your side before you can speak. They touch your shoulder gently.

“Um, excuse me,” they say, “Sorry, but you’re shaking an awful lot. Maybe you should sit down.” You nod, and it takes concentration, but with Muriel’s help you make it to the sofa. Apparently caffeine and adrenaline aren’t the best mix. Your breathing speeds up, despite your best efforts, and the rest of the room feels fuzzy. Shit, you do not need this right now. There’s talking and movement, but listening to the words feels too sharp, and the best you can do to convey that you are not okay is to shake your head over and over and over. You reach out a hand next to you, and are surprised to find the sleeve of Aziraphale’s shirt. It’s not ideal, but it’s something, and he doesn’t pull away. You focus on the feel of the cotton, the button on the cuff, the pattern of the stitching in the seams. Slowly, you’re able to tune back in. You focus on your breathing, you look around and count five things that start with B – button, books, brown, bow tie, black. Crowley hands you a mug of cocoa, and you accept it, running your thumb along the porcelain wings and letting your hands feel the heat of the drink. You take a sip and take stock.

Multiverse travel (?), mouthing off to the literal Voice of God (lol), brush with death (or...eternal saltiness?), confronting your very limited mortality (at least it’s 5 lives and not 3), panic attack. WELP. This is going well so far. Just peachy. You take another sip, and notice that everyone’s waiting. Oh, right. You clear your throat.

“Thanks,” You say, “Sorry about that. Um...I’m gonna guess that you all have some questions.”

“That would be accurate, yes,” Aziraphale says next to you. Now that you are better, he stands, straightens his waistcoat, and moves to stand nearer the chair (and Crowley), and watches you with his hands folded in front of him. “The first of which is, who exactly are you?”

“Buckle in, folks,” You say to them, “You’re in for a ride.”

And so you begin your info dump. You notice Muriel taking dedicated notes. Good, they’ll probably need those later. You tell them that you’re not sure exactly where you’re from, but it’s not here. You explain the tv show, the radio show, you even mention the musical, and of course, when you get to the book, you ask Crowley to find it on the shelf behind him. It’s right where you remember Jim leaving it. Crowley opens it, and you begin on instinct:

“’It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather seven of them thus far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet.’ Now skip a couple lines Crowley. ‘I said that one went down like a lead balloon.’ Sound familiar? There’s more.” You stop quoting there, because Crowley has started flipping through the pages quicker. Aziraphale holds out his hand, and after a while, Crowley hands it to him, then goes to a corner where you notice him taking a few deep breaths. You lean to the side to see that he’s not smoking, exactly, but definitely smoldering. You look at Aziraphale next, and see him turn white as a sheet, before handing the book to Muriel’s eager hands. The scrivener is the only one who looks delighted as they flip through. Aziraphale cleares this throat and composes himself.

“Uhm...now I believe you told Metatron that...The Almighty sent you here. Is...is that actually the case?”

“Honestly,” You say, “I have no idea. I just needed to get him out of your shop and away from you.”

“Away from...me?”

“Yeah...um...” You notice that Crowley has come back to the conversation now, although his sunglasses are slightly askew. You glance at Muriel, who has noticed the shift in your tone, has closed the book, and is now watching you. They put the novel on the nearest surface and reach for their notebook again.

And so, you explain the most solid fan theories that you know. That their joint miracle from the other day made them a threat for Apocalypse 2.0, and that Metatron was here to separate them, by offering Aziraphale the job of Supreme Archangel. This news is met with...surprise.

“Well that’s just stupid,” Crowley says, “He says no, in your tv show, clearly.”

“Yes, I rather can’t imagine I’d be so keen to return to Heaven after everything.”

“Weeeeelllll…...”

The room goes silent, except for Muriel’s writing. They stop after a moment, unaware of the silence.

“So then, you were trying to keep them from being separated because the power of an angel and a demon is most powerful together.”

“Yeah, or the power of love maybe. I’m not sure. Neil’s been kind of vague on that point.” You intentionally keep your gaze on Muriel once you realize what you implied. You will get there. Making those two talk about their feelings is on your list. Patience, patience.

“Oh, the author – Neil Gaiman?” Muriel points at the book with their pencil.

“Yeah, him. He answers questions sometimes.”

Muriel makes a note. You realize something.

“Wait a minute, Muriel,” You say, “Are you...on board with this?”

Muriel stops writing and considers your question for a minute.

“Well, see, the thing is,” They begin, “I’ve seen an awful lot that I never thought I would see? Just in the last week. Like a demon being nice –“

“HEY! Not nice!”

“And the Archangel Gabriel being in love with a demon and running away with them. And then you fell out of nowhere, and honestly what you said to the Metatron may have been a lie, and therefore, you know, bad, but it makes sense. If God didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. So if I help you, I’m helping the Will of God, right?”

Crowley is the one to break the silence that follows.

“Honestly I would have thought it’d take longer for you to take after me. I have to say, I am impressed.”

“Take what after you?”

“Nevermind.”

“Well,” says Aziraphale, “Is there anything else that we need to know about?”

You think about the kiss. You think about everything that came after. You think about ‘and I would like to spend -’ But no, none of that is relevant now. Why do you feel like you’re forgetting something?

The bell at the door rings. You turn around to see Maggie and Nina. UGH. Right.

“I’ve got it, ladies, no worries! Come back later!” You call, desperately.

“Excuse me! No, we need to speak to these two now if you don’t mind!” Maggie says. Clearly she doesn’t care who you are or what you’re doing here.

You roll your eyes. Honestly, you don’t have beef with Maggie and Nina. You agree with them telling off Crowley and Aziraphale, it’s just that you can’t help but feel that the clock is ticking. But, well, there’s no helping it is there? With a sigh, you stand.

“Come on, Muriel,” You say, “Let’s go to the kitchen and get some more cocoa while these four talk.”

Muriel follows you into the kitchen. You don’t listen, you don’t need to. All you need to do is refill your drink while Maggie and Nina tell them off. While you’re at it, you try to convince Muriel to have one. Despite your best effort, you’re unsuccessful. Oh well, all in good time. When you hear the bell chime again, you go back into the shop to find Aziraphale and Crowley looking very pink in the cheeks. You can’t help but smirk.

“All right, chaps?” You say in your best-terrible-British-accent. Aziraphale nods. Well good. Because you all have work to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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julianalvarez9 · 9 months

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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME / MASON MOUNT

PAIRING: Mason Mount x Chilwell!Reader

SUMMARY: What hurts more than the man that you love leaving your childhood club, is having been told from the start that being involved with him was a bad idea.

WARNINGS: mason is kinda a dick in this? maybe not intentionally but...... not really Emotionally Responsible. also, Ben all the way in protective mode.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

Are you free today? Need to talk to you about something xx

The message from Mason, earlier on the day, had made you think about this moment an endless amount of times.

In your mind, there's no other result that him asking you to be his, finally, after months of anticipation. You've been trying not to think about it, though, to avoid any disappointments in case it was just another day, but you can't really ignore the feeling in your gut: you're nervous like you've never been with him.

You figure it might be because this is your first public appearance alone together; that is, without your brother, Ben, or without any of the guys from the Chelsea team, to make it seem like this isn't what it, definitely, is: a date.

In reality, you could have figured what he wanted to tell you from the start. Even before the meeting, there had been multiple clues; like the endless flow of rumors floating around his neck -that he had, definitely, told you to ignore before-, or the public setting to have this conversation, or the chaste kiss he planted on your forehead before sitting in front of you. Not on your side.

Maybe you would have noticed all of it if you hadn't been so caught up in it. In him.

So, when the news finally exits his lips, and it turns out to be something completely different from what you had expected, you're left dumbfounded.

"I'm signing for Manchester United, Y/N. I'm leaving Chelsea this summer".

What?

Maybe you had interpreted it all wrong. From the message, to the hidden glances and forbidden touches shared between you two during all these months, away from all prying eyes, but especially, your brother's. Could it be? Or had he intended, all along, to be so cruel from the start?

Ben had never been enthusiastic with the idea of you two together, and you always assumed that it was out of protectiveness, of fulfilling the role of older brother. But maybe he knew something you didn't.

Your face must have been showing the myriad of emotions you were feeling at the moment, because Mason is quick to launch forward and take your hands in his, like he always did to comfort you. "Hey, you okay?".

As if you hadn't been showered with a cold water bucket just now. As if he hadn't thrown you into the void, without a safety net to catch you when you inevitably reach the ground.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, enthusiastically, painting the widest smile you could muster at the moment. "'M happy for you, Mase, really happy. Just remembered I have somewhere to be right now, uhm, with Ben. I have to go".

Mason would never have let you paid, like he never did before today, but he's so confused about your sudden reaction that he isn't quick enough to stop you from throwing a couple of pounds in the table to cover your tab.

Getting out of the coffee shops feels like a blur.

Your fingers work quicker than you knew they could, dialing the contact in a second, while you rushed down the sidewalk, brushing past strangers who gave you dirty looks for pushing them out of the way. You mumbled apologies left and right, but honestly, the only thing you could see through your tearful eyes is your phone, and how the display changes when your brother, after a couple of seconds, picks up.

"He's leaving".

You don't bother with greetings or introductions. But hearing Ben sigh leads you to believe he already knows who you're referring to, even if you hadn't muttered his name. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up".

The words splutter out of your lips before you can stop them. Maybe you're saying too much, more than he needs, or wants, to know, but you're only trying to come to terms with what Mason had so carelessly announced not even ten minutes before. "I thought we were gonna talk about, I don't know, us," you bitterly laugh, and the term now feels foreign.

Angrily swiping under your eyes to stop the teardrops from falling, you continue speaking. "But no, he sits there, with his always so perfectly styled hair, and his beautiful smile," you hear on the other side of the line how Ben's car keys fall to the floor, and in other occasions, it would have been funny to you -picturing him nervous at merely hinting you find one of his best mates handsome, but now you're too angry to care. "All to tell me he's going to fucking Man United".

The line is silent for a couple of seconds while you keep on rushing past people. You don't really know where you're going, but you're crossing streets and turning in corners like your body knows where it's going without needing directions from your brain.

The words came out bitter from your tongue, almost laced with venom. As if he didn't wish to be wrong, just to see you happy. As if being right was Ben's fault. "Go on. Tell me you told me, warned me, that this would happen. I deserve it".

He's gripping the steering wheel hard, turning his knuckles white to avoid exteriorizing how angry he is at Mason for hurting his little sister. He'd probably make him hear all about it the next time they saw each other, be damned if it was in a public or private setting. Still, the words he's speaking to you through the line are tender. "I could never".

Your legs stop in the all too familiar park. Ironically, it's the same one Mason and you had came so many times before: whether it be for a small picnic, to take Summer on a playdate or to take Ben's dog for a walk.

The realisation only made you cry more, and as if on cue, your brother's arms wrap around your trembling figure. "It's alright, Y/N," Ben whispers, quietly, in your hair, "you're gonna be okay, yeah? I'll make sure of it".

The tears that blur your vision and soak Ben's shirt doesn't let you see another call from Mason; it going straight to voicemail after being denied an answer for so long. But Ben sees it, and a million thoughts cross his mind. One thing is certain, though: he can't afford losing you to Mason, and letting you go to Manchester is not on the cards.

"I'll take you home, yeah?" your older brother asks, knowing that his home would be untouched territory to his old mate. You can only nod in agreement, strength being drained from your body after crying for what feels like a hundred hours, as your mourn what could've been.

Ben knows that, even if he's only trying to protect you, and do what he feels it's right, he can't keep you far away from Mason forever: but this is, for sure, a way.

#football imagine #football x reader #football x you #football fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount x y/n

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

More Gun content pleaseeeeeeeeee! If not, it's fine! Love your works, love your style, love your writings, well I, JUST love you! (YOU! For making lookism characters even more likeable even outside the manhwa!)

This is the FORTH time I asked and counting!

So people start having a nickname or whatever you call it when they ask or just say something. So I think I'll have to make my own...

I don't have any idea right now. Sadddddd!

Well I think that's all for now. Have good morning, noon, afternoon, evening and night sweetie, take careeeeeee!

"If not, it's fine!". Like I could say no. Thanks for asking unnamed anon and honestly thank you so much for your kind words! I'm still ill and feeling like I have less and less to say these days outside of just banging some writing out but this is just so face meltingly SWEET. You take care too!

Gun Park x Reader: Just moved in

Gun doesn't know what to make of this.

Those are your clothes all over his bedroom, no, your shared bedroom floor.

Somewhere under there was a pristine floor. Not that he ever cared much for the floor, but now that he can't see it, he cares about it an awful lot.

And it's not like he doesn't have enough space, or hasn't given you space. In his walk-in wardrobe he has allocated an entire wall for you yet most of your clothes just fit in these 2 drawers - you proved your point by cramming them in haphazardly with a grin.

That should have been a warning sign.

Gun bends down to pick up a few items of clothing, lamenting how it felt like only yesterday he was picking up someone's teeth after knocking them out, and now this is what he's doing.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices a flash of colour.

Ah, he's forgotten about that.

The ugly purple plushie sitting on your pillow. Sort of shaped like a rabbit, sort of shaped like a bear, definitely shaped like a monster.

He really regrets winning you that on an earlier date. You had grown far too attached and sentimental, and with anyone else that thing would have gone in the bin. Maybe even burned.

Yet with you... and to add insult to injury, that monstrosity now lives on the bed.

On top of all that, Gun thinks as he searches the penthouse for you to have a word about your disorganisation, the hideous plushie best left for another day, he thinks about your words to him the other day.

"You're using the knife wrong!"

Not professing to be a weapon expert, that's Goo Kim's territory, but Gun damn well knows how to use a chef's knife. For fucking dinner prep of all things.

Then you had the audacity to pluck it out his hand, and cut up the onion quicker and more efficiently. It still grates him to think about-

"Fuck!" Gun stumbles over a particularly large plant pot. Where the fuck-? Oh, of course. You and your fucking plants too. You must have about a million of them and now they are taking over the entire goddamn place.

"Y/N-" he starts, but the rest of his words die on his tongue when he sees you reading in the living room. Some music that absolutely is not his taste, but is completely yours playing.

The whole place feels a little warmer. With you. Less clinical than it used to be.

You glance up and give him that soft smile of yours, "Hey," and Gun realises he is totally done for.

Completely smittened and besotted. You can keep your ugly plushie, and your stupid plants and teach him how to use a knife properly.

In a handful of steps, Gun crosses the room to you, pressing a kiss on your lips. He cups the back of your head, and deepens it until you are leaning in and chasing for more.

He's wrong. There are no warning signs. Only constant signals since the day you met how well you would fit together. Sure there are minor cracks, but that is normal with any couples moving in together for the first time.

Normal. That's a first for Gun Park too.

Gun breaks away with a smirk on his face. Your pupils are completely blown, and cheeks flushed. Clearly you want more...

You need to earn it first.

"Clean up your fucking clothes." Gun says as you jolt in shock at his words.

True, he's utterly enamoured with you, but a man's gotta have standards.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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kingkatsuki · 1 year

Note

Your porn star Bakugo thirst was amazing. It got me thinking, you gave two possibilities, one of him and the reader going viral in a video together and getting paired up often and one where they're a cam couple... But what if it's both? They meet filming, it goes viral and after a few videos together they become a couple and decide they may as well cam on the side.

Hihihi! Thank you so so much for reading💕

Honestly I love to think about Bakugou becoming a sidekick and realising just how hard it is to survive on their paychecks. You’re doing so much tedious, arduous work and the salary at the end of each month just doesn’t reflect it. He doesn’t want to move back home and feel like a failure, so he ends up becoming a camboy.

He never shows his face, and barely talks through the videos. Aside from a gruff “fuck” or “shit” when he’s stroking his cock or using his toys. He doesn’t expect to take off or get popular, but he makes just enough to help pay the bills and buy groceries.

And your cam shows are kinda just running stagnant? You have a good, loyal following and you make decent tips, but it doesn’t feel like it’s really going anywhere?? So you’re scrolling one day and you stumble across Bakugou’s page, and his grunts and groans are enough to have you tingling as you watch the videos he’s uploaded to his page.

That’s the exact moment you decide to message him to see if maybe he’d be down to do a collaboration with you. It’s nerve wrecking because he could just message back and say he doesn’t find you attractive or that you’re not his type, but you think joining your fan bases together it might be a good way to make money.

But he ends up messaging back and you talk back and forth for a few days, getting to know each other and finding out what a collab would entail.

At first you do a side by side cam show, where your both still in your own homes and you just talk to each other while everyone watches and comments below. It’s the first time you’ve really heard his voice and that alone has you coming quicker than you ever have before. Embarrassed it’s so soon into the live stream— but you make so much money. And people are begging you to do another show together— and that’s when you decide to meet up.

I have talked to Kitten a lot about meeting Bakugou on set filming porn though, she wrote an awesome fic about it. But I love the thought of him trying his best to make you feel comfortable, and he ends up talking to you as though you’re the only person in the room. It ends up being that he can’t do porn with anyone else— in fact he actually refuses to. Demands to have you on set with him for all future films.

And I love the idea of doing these cute “behind the scenes” or “extra shots” with him, uploading them to your own channels as the fans go crazy.

#Bakugou thirst

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dcartcorner · 8 months

Text

the old men have my brain cell and are holding it hostage. couldn't sleep and so decided to write another little thing. standard disclaimer that writing is not my forte, i just really enjoy these character. sorry if there any mistakes! gonna post on ao3 later.

A Business Proposal Characters: Simon Fairchild, Peter Lukas Ship: FoggySkies Warnings: none

Peter did not know what part of him expected Simon to be punctual.

That was just how Simon was - in with the tide and gone with the wind, but with no rhyme nor reason to his comings and goings other than his own fancy, which itself could change on a whim.

Peter sighed, neither happy nor angry. Simply resigned to the fact that he was there and Simon was not. In many ways, that was preferable.

The Tundra was docked at Porto do Itaqui, the bar in São Luís was busier than it had been earlier - when that person came in, looking for work. Or perhaps it had always been that busy, and Peter hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t cared to notice. Whatever the case, he was aware of it now, the heat and the bodies, and his wishing for morning to come quicker so that he might be out on the sea once more.

But of course the blasted man was late to his own meeting, leaving Peter there, waiting.

Ten more minutes, he promised himself, finishing the mug of coffee in front of him. Ten more minutes, and he’d leave, and return to the Tundra.

An hour later, Simon stumbled into the bar. He looked… windswept, which was very much like him, Peter reflected. Simon spotted Peter and his smile widened, and as light on his feet as ever, he made his way through the crowd.

“You’re late,” Peter made a point of telling him.

“Yes. Terribly sorry,” Simon replied as he pulled out a chair next to the captain and sat himself down in a careless motion, crossing one leg over the other and leaning closer to Peter. Though not too close - never too close. He seemed to know, Peter thought. Seemed to recognize that there was an invisible barrier there, separating Peter from him, and it was always up for Peter to decide whether or not to cross it. “Got swept up in something. Have you ever been parasailing? There was this lovely couple from… Hmm. Honestly, I can’t remember! Well, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, so there I was, enjoying a nice day out on the beach, and I overheard…”

And so Simon spoke. And Peter didn’t listen, not really. That was how it was, a lot of the time. Simon spoke at such length, so frequently, that oftentimes Peter found himself drifting off into a comfortable fog, nodding along without really taking anything in. It was something… he was trying to get better at. He picked up little things, here and there - heard the delight in Simon’s voice when he told Peter of that poor couple’s fate. He found himself thinking about what it might be like - to be up there, all alone, with nothing but clouds and the whole of humanity laid out before him. Distant specks of civilization, and him entirely apart from it. It would be nice, he thought. And, as he contemplated that wonderful loneliness, courtesy of the Falling Titan, Simon continued to speak. And Peter continued to nod absentmindedly, losing himself in the motion of it.

He was not sure when the drink appeared in front of him, only that it was there when he blinked and dragged himself back into the moment. How much time had passed? He did not know, but turning his eyes towards Simon, found the other man had, at some point, stopped speaking. He was leaning against the table now, scanning the crowd, a comfortable smile in its usual place. Peter picked up the drink, glancing at the two in front of Simon.

It was nice.

The drink and… Simon’s company. It was a thought that prickled not entirely unpleasantly at a spot near the back of his skull, against his urge to isolate. Simon never tried to make anything more out of them than what they were. His mind was… drawn towards the bigger picture, and Peter knew that he himself did not fit into it. That no one did. And that itself, he thought, was quite isolating indeed. He smiled into the drink as he took another sip.

His movement caused Simon to look over at him. There was red in his cheeks, though Peter could not have said if it was from the drink or the day out in the sun, under the sky.

“Why did you want to meet, anyway?” Peter asked.

If he could have seen Simon’s eyes behind the dark glasses that covered them, he would have seen the way that they lit up like they did when he was scheming - plotting something that Peter knew would cost a small fortune. Simon Fairchild never did anything understated. Like everything else, money did not matter to him.

Simon turned in his seat, tucking one leg under the other as he clapped his hands together mischievously. “I’ve had a thought. An idea. For a business venture. One I thought might interest you.” Peter said nothing and allowed Simon to go on, explaining.

About the island - best place for cage diving off the coast of Mexico. The only way to get to it was to charter a boat overnight. Simon explained it. The possibilities. Offering an exclusive experience to some unsuspecting soul. And perhaps said soul would find itself stranded on that charter, all alone, for a day or two, caught in an unlikely sea fog. Perhaps when it came time to go down, down, into the depths to see the great beasts, there would be nothing but emptiness below, and the distant rays of sunlight forgotten above.

By the time Simon had finished the proposal, Peter found himself hungry. He would admit… it did sound… fun. Or, at the very least, not a colossal waste of time and money, as were so many of Simon’s schemes. He pointedly avoided thinking about the Daedalus by very much thinking about the Daedalus. Though he supposed that was, in large part, Rayner’s influence.

The thought of Rayner… twisted up in him uncomfortably. He ignored whatever that feeling might have been, but could not stop himself asking, “And will Rayner be a part of this one as well?”

Simon shook his head breezily. “No, no,” he assured Peter. If Simon thought anything of the question, there was no hint of it in his voice. He moved as swiftly on from the question as he did everything else. “I can see to the particulars of it all. All you’d have to do is show up.”

Peter hummed in approval of both statements. “Fine,” he agreed.

“Wonderful!” Simon’s smile broadened as he lifted his drink. “Here’s to us, then, and to the enterprise,” he said.

Peter clinked his glass carefully against Simon’s, and they drank. Two more rounds, and Peter let the silence between the two of them breathe. Lengthen. Let himself slip away from it all.

The bar had only become more crowded as the night went on and was beginning to press on him by the time someone approached their table. A young sort, with two drinks in hand. Peter did not hear what he said to Simon as he put one of the drinks down on the table, and leaned in, looming over Simon.

That same twisting feeling yanked this way and that inside of his chest. Peter didn’t like the man’s smile. Nor the way Simon rested his elbow on the table and played along, the way he put his hand gently down on the stranger’s and laughed at something the stranger said.

“Do you need something?” Peter asked suddenly. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the way Simon’s gaze slid over to him with a tilt of his head.

The young man turned towards him, eyes widening as if in surprise to find someone else at that table. He stammered out an apology - he didn’t realize, he didn’t see that… sorry, he didn’t think that anyone else was…

Peter’s smile was cold. “We all make mistakes,” he told the stranger. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to reflect on it.”

And then the stranger was gone.

Simon chuckled lightheartedly though Peter didn’t quite understand the humour of it. He stood from the table and grabbed Simon’s wrist, and yanked him up out of the chair and began to haul him towards the door. That twisting feeling began to dissipate as they stepped out into the night and to an empty street - one that should have been buzzing with a late night crowd. Towards the docks through the sudden fog. Simon simply hummed compliantly. It sounded pleased, Peter thought. Towards the docks, towards the shape of the Tundra that towered over them. Up the gangway. By the time they reached the cabin, there was nothing left of the twisting.

When he woke the next morning to prepare to leave port, the bed next to him was empty. Unlike Simon to be up so early, Peter observed, but under such circumstances, that could be expected. He must be excited about this venture of his. Of theirs. The sheets were rumpled and the pillow still harboured the ghost indentation of the head that had rested there. He pulled himself out of bed to get ready.

As he made his way to the coffee machine, he found a pot already brewed, a mug waiting next to it. Peter smiled, and poured himself a cup.

#tma #the magnus archives #fanart #simon fairchild #peter lukas #foggyskies #fic

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moonchildstyles · 1 year

Text

fic announcement and sneak peek!

hiiiii besties!!!

I said a while back when I announced columba that I would be coming back with another series for both Tumblr and patreon this summer and that time has come :)))))))))))

for the last four years Ive had this idea in my head for a super special h that ive just let build a home in my heart that kept growing and growing and growing! now ive finally had a chance to write it all out and make him real with a fun story and lots of little details to make him who he is!

I don't want to spoil too much about him just because I want there to be a little mystery for him and theres so many fun details that I think will be really fun to put together when you dont' know what he's up to!

so, starting on June 30th, Rosemary will begin being posted with a new part every friday here on Tumblr! Patreon will be getting early access with the first part being posted on June 16th, and every friday after! an extended sneak peek is also up on my patreon rn!

If you are interested in reading the new story, please wait until June 1st to sign up so you only get charged once at the beginning of the month and theres a full 30 days before the next charge!

you can also check out the Pinterest board I made for the fic!

let me know if you guys have any questions about anything! im sooooo excited and cannot wait for you all to read!

under the cut is a sneak peek :)

—————

"Thank you, Harry!"

The bow girl's chirping gratitude only had Harry looking at her stiffly with a grumbled Yeah falling from his lips. Just as she had done the last couple of months since she made herself a presence during his shifts, she only gave him a smile before bouncing away with her basket only containing a carton of banana milk and her favorite cookies. She was no longer perturbed by the standoffish responses he gave her. Harry couldn't decide if he liked that or not.

It was like this at least a couple of times a week. She never did a big shop, only stopping by at the later times to pick up individual ingredients for a dinner she had chatted to him about, or little snacks she couldn't seem to go a day without. During at least one of her trips, she found an excuse to talk to Harry; she asked him about his day if she was close enough to feel comfortable starting a question (Harry never gave her a good answer, honestly), she told him about her own day and what she was shopping for if there was anything specific she had in mind. She almost always had a bow pinned her hair, fluttering behind her and matching whatever soft piece of clothing she had cinched around her form. Harry had even began fishing out a pack of her favorite cookies from his boxes if he was stocking that aisle, just to make it easy if she came in and asked him for assistance. It made the interactions quicker and less bothersome—at least that's what he told himself.

He knew more about her and her routines than he had any of the hundreds of people he'd met in the last handful of years since he started moving around. Even if that did make him feel a bit guilty knowing that she didn't have a clue about who exactly she was sharing these parts of herself with; she didn't know the mess she was tiptoeing around every time she interacted with him.

Tonight was no different, her leaving a rattling in Harry's bones that he wanted nothing more than to ignore like every other part of his life. If he was superstitious, he would think she could have cast some kind of spell on him with the way she and her little bows lingered in his brain long after she had checked out and gone on her way home.

That rattling followed him as he made his way into the backroom, his empty box needing to be replaced. An exasperated sigh fought to leave his chest when he saw almost half of the overnight team huddled in the area, puttering about as they chattered and pretended to work. He didn't like being roped into their conversations, and that almost always happened when he ran into more than two of them at once.

Harry didn't say a word as he broke down the cardboard box on his cart, pushing it off to the pile of the other flattened boxes before he reached for another. The conversations had quieted some when he walked in, but he could still hear what sounded like Brett and Fawn flirting in the back corner with a cart of refrigerated items that needed to go on the opposite end of the store, and Theo talking to two of the other guys that Harry didn't bother to remember their names.

"Busy night, huh, Harry?" Theo started, dropping whatever topic he had been rambling his friends about just a moment before.

"Yeah," Harry answered, voice stiff. It wasn't any more busy than any other night as far as he was concerned. Besides, he had other things he needed to worry about to be making conversation with a coworker he barely knew. There was still a pearl colored ribbon tying his stomach in tiny knots that he needed to fix.

Soon enough, a silence fell through the backroom when the others made their way out. Only Harry and Theo were left, Harry doing his part to semi-organize his chosen box before heading out on the floor again.

Maybe it was the rattling in his bones, or the vision of a peach colored bow that he saw every time he blinked, but something in Harry felt a little reckless when he peeked over at Theo focusing on his own box.

"That girl," Harry rumbled, feeling odd in his skin as he spoke, "The one with the bows in her hair... She comes in a lot."

Theo looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes wide with furrowed brows as he looked in Harry's direction. He even glanced over his shoulder as if there was anyone else there for the conversation to be aimed at. Harry had to keep from scoffing, dropping his gaze back to his working hands.

Floundering over his words, Theo tried to catch up once he realized Harry was voluntarily talking. "Um, the one with bows in her hair?"

Harry hummed in response. "She's in a couple of times a week."

"Ohhh," Theo sounded, familiarity touching his tone, "You mean (Y/N)?"

Harry swallowed at the sound of her name. He'd never asked for it himself. "If that's her name, yeah."

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Theo nodding his head some. "She comes in a lot, yeah. She's not good at keeping a list and always forgets stuff if she tries to do big shops, so she just comes in when she wants something or runs out."

Though he didn't want this information to mean something to him, Harry felt a part of himself slowing being fulfilled the more details he learned. She didn't tell him these kinds of things when she rambled about her dinner choice for the night.

Keeping his gaze tacked to his hands, Harry kept his words measured and calculated. "Oh," he started, "Is she from here?"

"She's lived here forever, yeah. Why?"

A beat passed as Harry opted to ignore the second part of Theo's response. He didn't need to have any details as to why Harry was asking after someone after working together for five months with only a handful of interactions. Even if he did want to share that, Harry didn't have any answers to that why, anyway.

"Does she... What does she do?" Harry asked, the phrasing of his words feeling awkward falling out of his mouth. He was lucky he was so used to shielding his emotions and staying stoic, otherwise he would have cringed where he stood.

"Like for work?" Theo asked, his eyes warm on Harry's profile.

Lifting his shoulders, Harry only shrugged in response. It was probably a good idea to keep his mouth shut.

"She—uh—she works at the bakery. She and my sister work there together," Theo told him, acting as if Harry was supposed to know what bakery he was talking about and who his sister was. "(Y/N)'s pretty nice, though."

"Right," was all Harry offered by the time he finished organizing his box. He didn't bother to give anything more in response or wait for Theo to say more before he was walking out on the floor again. Even when he could feel his eyes stuck to his back.

No doubt would this interaction make its way to the rest of the team before the end of the shift.

It was harmless curiosity, Harry argued. He just had to believe the harmless part.

—————

#other #mine.#harry #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year

Text

Signed Away: Part 14

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plently angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy.

Notes/Warnings: Smut 18+, cursing, fluff, angst, contract marriage, loss of rights, feelings of being trapped, poor parent/child relationships, typos for sure.

As always, comments can make my bad days worth getting through, so i’ll never not appreciate them. Reblogs and likes make me smile uncontrollably, but no pressure :)

Masterlist

Words: 2353

-----

Jake stood with his hands braced against the countertop, his tense shoulders raised high to his neck, and his head tilted down as if the weight of the last couple weeks was taking its toll. He'd grown exhausted. His protectiveness had kicked into overdrive, and he hadn't taken a moment to breathe, as if too afraid it could distract him from the threat of your mother. You'd tried to convince him to relax, but you couldn't quite succeed when you yourself were struggling to do the same.

"Why do you want to talk to her about it?" He asked. His tone was dark, deep, and yet the wobble of anxiety still wove clearly throughout his words.

You sighed. "Jake…"

"I don't like the idea of you dealing with her," he said, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Who cares if you're broke? I sure as hell don't. Do you care if you're broke?"

He was rambling, the words coming out as fast as his lips could move to make them. The more the two of you had thought about it, the more the revelation made sense, but something in you still wanted proof. You wanted to hear it from your mother's mouth and have her fully admit to trying to ruin you. But Jake didn't want you going near her. He didn't see the point. To him, it was exposing yourself to the beast that had been stalking you from afar, just waiting for the perfect time to pounce. It defied logic.

"No."

"See?" His knitted brows eased. "So that part doesn't matter. If she hired Jason to come between us so that we don't have children all because your family is broke, then she already failed, right? I mean, you're not planning to break my heart by sleeping with your ex, are you?"

"No."

The hand he had raised in your direction smacked back down on the counter. "Exactly! Thank you; I appreciate that. So, what's the point in stirring stuff up with her?" He rounded the counter, approaching you with a restrained speed and resting his hands on your upper arms. "Sweetheart, we are getting married in 8 days. She doesn't matter anymore. We're going to be fine---assuming you actually want to marry me now?"

You chuckled and nodded and his grin spread wide, splitting his face in two. Rough palms cupped your cheeks, thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He leaned down to give you a soft kiss then rested his forehead against yours.

"Let's just be happy," he whispered, but the plea within his tone was hard to ignore. "We do what we want when we want, and fuck everything else."

With a snort, you said, "There's a piece of paper that says we can't do that."

"There's a piece of paper that says we have to be responsible for an inheritance, but other than that and the marriage, no one gets to make our choices for us." He gave you another quick peck. "Not your parents; not mine."

"Do you honestly believe she's done—that she'll just leave us alone?"

"What else could she do to us that would fix her situation?"

You didn't want to tell him again that your mother was quicker than he understood, even though he'd faced her head on once before. If you thought you knew what she was thinking, you were dead wrong, and she'd be a full step ahead, waiting to shock you with something you couldn't see coming from ten miles away. And you weren't sure how to fight what you couldn’t see. It left you feeling like a small child swinging her sword around in an attempt to spear an invisible figure—defeated before you even had a chance.

—---

You pulled your car into the parking lot of the diner, turned off the ignition, and stared through the glass window of the worn building where Phoenix sat sipping her coffee. As she smiled at the waitress, you took a few deep breaths, strengthening yourself for a conversation you weren't sure you wanted to have. The pilot was your friend, but you were about to ask for advice, and you could count on one hand the number of times you'd done so before—less, the number of times anyone’s offered advice benefitted you. But you trusted Phoenix.

"She's your mother. Not his," she said, taking another sip of coffee. The elderly waitress placed a plate of eggs in front of you and you thanked her, giving a slight nod along with the upturn of your lips. "I mean, of course he doesn't want you going to deal with her. Neither do I. I've never met her, and I despise the woman. But no one can stop you from going to talk to her about this if that's what you feel you need."

It sounded so simple coming from her mouth. Simple in a way you couldn't accept. The way Jake looked at you when you mentioned the idea of approaching your mother—the absolute desperation in his eyes for you to forget the idea altogether—was too heavy to answer with such a simplistic response. It felt like disregarding his feelings; ignoring his fears. "He's panicking over it."

"Well, would you want him to walk into a lion's den?" Phoenix quirked a brow. "Can I ask you why you want to talk to her at all?"

"Something just feels…off," you said, shaking your head. "If we're right, and my family doesn't have money outside of the company, then I can't imagine my mother letting it all go just because Jake told her to leave us alone. It's not in her nature."

She paused, watching you carefully, searching for the right words. Knowing her, you could likely guess her final thought on the matter. Whatever she was about to tell you was what she would do if faced with the same situation. But you weren't Phoenix, and you worried your solutions to problems were not the same as hers. "Look, if this is keeping you awake at night, then you should get the information you want, whether Jake agrees or not," she said. "I mean, he won't like it, obviously. His top priorities are marrying you and keeping you safe, and anything that would threaten those things he wants as far from you as possible, but if you'd feel better knowing, then do what you need to do."

The thought of it hit the pit of your stomach the wrong way—how a lie does after you've told one to someone you love. They taste wrong in your mouth and settle uncomfortably in your gut. Phoenix wasn’t suggesting dishonestly, but that’s exactly the choice you would be facing—and neither had a comfortable outcome. Confronting your mother knowing how Jake felt seemed wrong, but doing it behind his back would cross a line. And you couldn't have that. You refused to make that mistake. The two of you were done with secrets.

"I'll think about it," you said.

—---

His thrusts were slow, gentle, with his weight above you and lips kissing and sucking on your neck. A groan rumbled from his chest when your nails began to scrape their way up his sides, leaving thin red lines in their wake. His favorite temporary tattoos, he’d once told you, and from that moment on, you’d made sure to mark him up exactly how you liked.

"I can't wait until you're my wife," he breathed into your skin. Your whole body was hot, flushed from the thickness of the air, but his breath was hotter—burning, branding you with his confession.

He suddenly pulled out of you, and you didn't have time to react to the confusion of it before you were flipped onto your side so Jake could settle behind you. His arm wrapped around your front, hand sliding up your torso to your breast and lightly squeezing the flesh as his cock spread you open again. The slap of skin against skin filled the room, echoing in your foggy brain and making you purr delightfully in his embrace. You loved that sound. You loved that brief moment of him shoving himself deep inside you just to pull out and repeat the movement, rewarding you with the noises of your combined pleasure.

"I'm never gonna get tired of this," he growled, and you clenched around him involuntarily. His pace stuttered as his breath caught in his throat. "Fuck, baby." He dotted kisses over your shoulder and neck. His nose nudged your cheek. "I want you to cum."

"Ja–"

"Please, sweetheart. Just one more. I know you can handle it."

You were so weak for him. Whenever he begged, you lost absolute control of every bit of your body. It was so easy to surrender yourself—to let go—just from his needy coaxing.

The drag of his cock along your walls, the tip hitting just the right spot in time with his deep grunts, pulled from your lips a chorus of moans and whimpers and curses. You reached one hand behind your head, weaving your fingers into his hair, and the other gripped the disheveled sheet underneath you in a sad attempt to find something to stabilize your body as he pounded into you.

“Fuck, Jake.”

His fingers moved to your clit and rubbed in little circles that sent sharp jolts of pleasure throughout your body. His movements were intoxicating. Fingertips playing with you. Hips slamming against your ass. You no longer knew up from down, left from right. He made you beautifully dizzy, practically seeing stars as the tightness in your body finally released all at once. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing, milking and greedy for what he had to give. You allowed the feeling to consume you and fade before opening your eyes. His own were slammed shut, his lips parted for shallow exhales.

“Jake…” you whispered. His eyelids unsealed and he looked down at you. Green irises were nearly swallowed whole by blown pupils. He was gone—so far gone—and you wanted him to come back to you. “Kiss me,” you said, tipping your head back further so your mouths could meet. He kissed you sweetly. There was a neediness there, but no desire to rush tasting one another. It was soft, delicate, in direct contrast to the pace of his thrusts. He kissed you until he couldn’t breathe and had to break the connection. “Now come for me.”

Blond eyebrows knitted. HIs jawline sharpened from his clenched teeth. Your name and a curse blended into a new word as his whole body stalled, fingernails digging into your flesh while ropes of his cum filled you. His hips jutted twice more, then he began to pull out, making your abused hole sting the slightest in protest. When he rose to get a towel to clean you up you latched onto his hand and pulled him back down.

“Not now,” you said, turning over to face him.

Snickering, he kissed your hairline and whispered, “Ok, beautiful.”

You laid wrapped together—for how long, you didn’t know—but the sunlit glow that painted your room had begun to fade by the time either of you cared to break the blissful silence.

"Stay."

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how badly I want to," he replied quickly, as if the same thought had been dancing around his mind. "But I made a pact with Coyote, Bob, and Rooster."

"When you were seventeen."

"It's a very serious pact, sweetheart,” he chuckled, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. “We have to spend our last night as single men together. We shook on it."

You hummed in consideration. "Well, it's good to know you're loyal,” you said, and were instantly rewarded with his bright grin.

"You, more than anyone, will always be sure of that."

—---

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart," Jake whispered against your lips after brushing Rooster and Coyote's tugging hands off his arms so he could give you another kiss goodbye.

Every time his lips met yours, the world around you fell apart. It melted away while you and Jake stood safe and sound in your own little bubble. You liked your bubble. You could've stayed there for ages had Rooster not interrupted you with his chuckles before pulling Jake from your arms.

"You've got the rest of your lives, lovebirds," the brunet said. They each wished you a good night and then they left, the door slamming behind them.

With him gone, you itched for Phoenix to arrive sooner. You needed the distraction to tame your nerves. As much as you would have liked to find the night calming, there was too much on your mind. The fact that you never confronted your mother was a dark ugly cloud above your head, but you couldn't help caving for Jake. In your own worry, you hadn't thought much about what he was going through since learning of the children clause of the contract—how stressful it could be having your potential child already unwanted by one of their grandmothers, a woman with no boundaries; a woman who would hurt her own child without hesitation. Though he never spoke it aloud, you felt like a fool for not factoring that into his panic, and when it all hit you, it confirmed that you couldn't go behind his back. You made that sacrifice for him, and you would just have to sit and pray the threat that was your mother wouldn't come after you again.

The knocking snapped you from your thoughts, and you yanked your jagged fingernail out from between your teeth. Your knee ceased its bouncing and you quickly stood, rushing down the hall. Phoenix had perfect timing. Another few minutes and your anxiety might have begun to wrap its spindly fingers around your neck. But when you opened the door, the hair on your arms immediately stood on end. Your heartbeat raced, thudding violently in your ears, and you swallowed hard to unsuccessfully ease the sudden dryness of your throat.

"What do you want?" you choked out.

"Can't a mother come see her daughter the night before her wedding?"

A/N: Instant foreshadowing, huh? Anyway, I tried. Hope you liked it :)

-----

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bahllinsqrews · 8 months

Text

Incubus Treatment

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Story is dedicated to a special friend, one we'll keep to the name Captain Rope Bunny to keep them anonymous by their own wishes.

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Incubus!Wooyoung x Dragon!Reader, Sensitive breasts, bondage ropes, hypnotizing, slut level rough sex, Wooyoung demon cloning, gangbanging, cum covering.

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You were just simply laying in your nest, watching as the door opened to see the incubus you lived with. You flexed yourself down to get onto the floor. He said to you that he was going to come back a couple days ago and the fact that he lied and took more time made you literally sexually frustrated. He went over to you and looked at you with a confused look before smiling as he kissed your cheek.

"I got a gift for us to use, but I know you want some love tonight." He said and tried to kiss you, you turning away on a huff. He sighed and watched as your tail swayed, walking from him. He admired your ass, seeing the hips move made him harder and harder as he saw you lay down on the couch. He honestly couldn't leave you a hot mess, so he pulled out the gift he wanted to use, fireproofed ropes and tied you up in your favorite position. You squeaked in surprise. "Wooyoung! What's going on?!" You huffed, looking up at him before he laid you on your back.

"Taking down that attitude you just had against me, but also fulfilling that little fantasy we talked about last night~" he said and cloned himself to surround you, making your face light up in a blushed heat. Your pussy fluttered at the fact that you would be used by your boyfriend in such a way. Being spot roasted and used like a slut was something you two had discussed one night in bed and Wooyoung was more than happy with the idea.

Your breath became heavy, your eyes hazy as they touched and played with you and your body. One stuffed his fingers into your pussy at random and moved them at a fast pace, making you moan aloud as you struggled within your bonds. Another clone stuffed his cock into your mouth, already ramming into your throat. You were too busy sucking off one of the clones to notice the missing fingers, only squeaking when another cock stabbed into your pussy, your eyes rolling back as you continued to struggle in your roping.

They fucked into you with grunts and groans, listening to you moan and the sounds of your wetness hitting against you and him. They kept hitting peculiar spots that made your head spin, your eyes only widening when they moved quicker, not being able to think when they covered and filled you with their seed. They placed you down, taking a moment before they rearranged you in the ropes, pulling your arms back behind your head to tie to your thighs so you could be kept open.

You wanted a break but you caught the lust in their eyes as another clone of him came up, grabbing your tail to play with. Another kept feeling at your tits, groping and grabbing at them. Your moans made them all hard again, one clone lifting you by the hips to stuff himself inside of you, the other using your mouth while another wrapped your tail around his cock to get himself off. The ropes kept you tight in place while they used you like the doll you wanted to be and you were loving it. They moved at a nice fast pace with your core throbbing as you came and drenched the clone that was balls deep into your cunt.

They took a few more thrusts in to let you ride it out before all of them cumming and covering you in it. They untied you only to shift your position for your hands to be moved around like a doll on strings. You were pulled to kneel in front of them giving them hand jobs to make them cover you in their seed for the upteenth time. You took a breath and tried to recover, the clones disappeared.

You looked at him and smiled as he went and got a clean rag. He laid you on the couch after cleaning your back, then cleaned up the front as much as he could before picking you up to take you to bed. You sighed in relief, holding him tight as you two laid in bed. "My incubus is the best~" you said as you gave him his cuddles, making him extremely happy while you two slept off the numb feelings and pain.

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Drama-Chan's Note: Please follow so I can make more content for others and reblog so they can see it!

#kpop #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #jung wooyoung #wooyoung

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fairytoge · 2 years

Text

dating headcanons ; i.yuuji, f.megumi

notes!!

the second part of my "dating headcanons" series so i hope you enjoy!!

other parts ; n.kento, g.satoru, g.suguruㅤi.toge, o.yuutaㅤk.choso, z.naoya

m.list

i.yuuji

yuuji is a sweetheart and it is v well known

like, honestly, you could ask for anything (even if you were just a random stranger to him) and he would give it to you with a smile on his face, just happy he could be of help

and if you were dating him???? omg he'll absolutely do anything for you

like, it's to the point where you have to teach him how to deny people and to not be self-sacrificing, and that he has to convince you that he'll listen to your advice

it doesn't really quell your worries but you appreciate his effort nonetheless

anyway!! you and yuuji are that couple that single people pretend to cringe at but secretly envy to death

you'll both just be walking down the street or through the park or something, and out of the corner of your eye you see a couple of teenagers pretend to gag at you

it's become an inside laugh to you both and, whenever the scenario occurs, you both purposefully turn to each other and kiss .... but only if you're okay with pda!!

yuuji also values you and your opinion so much! he's a bit clingy but it's cute

he'll text you regularly whenever you two are away from each other and, if you're out with your friends at that time, they'll probably tease you about the onslaught of messages you keep getting

but also, he knows where to stop!! he won't constantly spam you; he mainly just texts you loads when he's bored or in between training with megumi

idk, and the messages aren't nagging or anything, they're more like "miss you! hope that you're having fun and okay :)"

kcndsicnibieownbu my heart 🥺😭

whenever you're feeling bad, ill, or just generally deflated, yuuji will make it his personal mission to cheer you up

your friends said a weird comment that rubbed you the wrong way? yuuji will organise a movie night for the two of you: featuring your favourite films

you've caught a cold and have a sore throat? yuuji will make you his infamous soup that is known to cure colds quicker than ever!

or if you just feel like doing nothing and lounging about for the day? yuuji is fine with that too! he'll go out shopping so that you have your favourite snacks and whatever else you want or need

overall, yuuji is a sweetheart but i mean, what's new 😭

f.megumi

megumi: an angel .... done!

i'm a big simp for megumi so yeah :((( HE'S JUST SO FERJKBBWJBJCBWKDN

anyway!! megumi as your boyfriend or partner is underrated to be honest

he'll do anything for you, kind of like yuuji, but is more low-key and quiet about it and will absolutely deny doing anything for you when you two are with others

like, let's say that he buys you a warm drink because it's cold out and you jokingly kiss his cheek in gratitude, only for your moment to be interrupted by yuuji and nobara who were also with you

as they tease megumi, he will, if you're around, 1000% bury his head into the junction between your head and shoulder and omg melting rn brb

but seriously, megumi is so shy displaying affection in public, but together??? you two are cuddling all the time

like, he's the type that, as you're walking past him to go to the kitchen or something, he'll grab your waist and pull you in for a hug and you just stay like that for a while

on another note! i think he'd also (vvvv reluctantly but nonetheless) introduce you to gojo over dinner as if he were his dad

like, because you both go to tokyo tech, you already know him so it's just a mess

gojo's interrogating you about your intentions with his son, megumi's burying his head in his hands as he tries to ignore the odd stares you get from other people in the restaurant, and you are having a hard time not choking of laughter on the food

it's a mess, but in the best way possible

omg gojo would probably host "future-daughter dates" with just you and him where he shows you an album of pictures of megumi when he was younger

and you order takeaway but don't tell megumi because you didn't order him stuff

you and gojo bond vvvv quickly, much to your lover's happiness and sadness

but he is very aware about the fact that you two share pictures of him on the daily, and that gojo often calls you when megumi either ignores his messages or doesn't pick up on a call

idk, whilst he pretends to hate your and gojo's formed friendship, he is secretly delighted that you two have bonded and are there for him

PROTECT HIM PLSSS :((((

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genshin-impact-writings · 2 years

Note

Hello hello! Can I request angst 3 from the 50 prompts for Scaramouche? Thnk you ❤️❤️

Hey there! First of all, thank you so much for your request. I really love the prompt and I feel like it fits Scaramouche quite well. However, this was my first time writing a fic for him, so please bear with me if he's a bit ooc. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless. <3 Pls don't let this flop.

Prompt: Angst #3 - "Can't I come with you?" - "You know you can't"

Right where you left me – Scaramouche x gn!reader

When you woke up, the spot next to you was empty, the pillow fluffed up and the blanket neatly folded back, just like it had been every morning for the past few weeks. With a sigh, you rolled over, staring at the dark fabric of the pillow case that was almost the same color as his hair. You put your hand on the pillow, right where his head would be if he was lying next to you, but only a few moments later, you pulled your hand back and sat up.

By the Archons, if Scaramouche could see you right now, acting like a picture of misery simply because you hadn’t seen each other in a while… he wouldn’t hesitate one second to call you pathetic or sentimental, but even that didn’t change the fact that you missed him. Heck, you missed him so much that you couldn’t even put it into words. Maybe it was pathetic, yes, but shouldn’t it be like that when you were in love with someone? Shouldn’t you want to spend every waking hour with them?

You rubbed your face. Of course, Scaramouche was different, you had known that from the start. He would never act all lovey-dovey, like the couples you saw in the streets every day. And that was fine – you wouldn’t want him to be any different. But sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt like some part of him was missing when you weren’t together, too.

Probably not. Or why else had it been so easy for him to leave you behind?

No, now you were being unfair. He was just doing what he had to do, nothing less, nothing more. And it wasn’t his fault that you couldn’t accompany him on every trip, although you sometimes wished you could. But you weren’t a skilled fighter, at least not skilled enough to be of any real help, and the last thing you wanted was being a burden to him. Which you probably would have been on this mission, whatever that might be.

You sighed again, letting yourself fall back into the pillows. As you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom, your mind drifted off to the last conversation you had with him. The conversation that had led up to this very situation, to you alone in your bed.

You knew that something was up when Scaramouche started to distance himself from you. To others, it probably wasn’t even noticeable, but you knew him well enough to notice all the little changes in his behavior. How he got up long before you even woke up, how he pulled away from your hugs even quicker than he would normally and how he hastily gathered notes, letters and other papers into a messy pile when you entered the room. It was painful to see that he tried to hide something from you but at first, you just brushed it off – he had so many secrets, so many things he couldn’t tell you, so what did it matter if he had another one?

So, you kept silent, quietly wondering about his behavior. Until one day, you couldn’t take it anymore.

That morning, you grabbed his wrist when he tried to rush past you, trying to hold him back. “Wait,” you said. “Talk to me, please.”

He looked down at his wrist, observing the way you held onto him. Then, he sighed and shook your hand off. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit,” you said, the tone of your voice a lot harsher than you had intended. But in that moment, you were so done with everything, so done with his excuses and the fact that he continued to shut you out. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague for these past few days, and I’m honestly quite done. Tell me what the heck is wrong.”

Scaramouche didn’t reply right away. Instead, he carefully avoided your gaze, focusing on a spot somewhere over your right shoulder. It was hard to read his expression, had always been, but you still thought that he seemed to be stressed, anxious even. You couldn’t exactly say why but in that moment, his whole posture reminded you of a trapped animal.

“Scara,” you said, and your voice was a lot softer now – like usually when you used the nickname you had given him a while ago. “You can tell me everything. You know that. So, please, tell me what’s bothering you so badly.”

He pressed his lips together. “I might have to disappear for a while.”

“You – what? Why?”

“Let’s just say I got into trouble with the Fatui because of… reasons. And we both know that it’s only a matter of time until they send someone after me,” he replied quietly, almost as if he feared that someone was eavesdropping on your conversation. “That’s all I’m going to tell you. Every piece of information puts you into danger and I’m not – I’m not going to risk anything when it comes to you.”

For a couple of seconds, you could only stare at him as you tried to comprehend what he had just told you. That he was thinking about leaving you behind, maybe for good this time. “But… but I thought we-“

“This is not about us,” Scaramouche interrupted you. “This is about me and something I’ve done. It has nothing to do with my – feelings for you.”

“But can’t I come with you?” you asked, not quite able to banish the pleading undertone from your voice. Scaramouche’s gaze was unusually soft as he looked back at you and cupped your face with both hands, carefully wiping away the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. “You know you can’t,” he said. “Where I’m going, it’s not safe for you. And I… I need you to be safe.”

You reached up and placed your hand on top of his. “Scara…”

“No,” he interrupted you firmly, shaking his head. “There’s no point in discussing this. You’re not coming with me, and that’s final.”

“I wasn’t trying to change your mind,” you replied, unable to hold back the smile that played around the corners of your mouth. “I understand that you have to go but… please just promise me to come back to me, okay?”

Scaramouche huffed but the soft expression didn’t leave his eyes. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Do it anyway. Please.”

“I will come back to you as soon as possible. I promise.”

The day went by as all other days had went by since Scaramouche had left. You pursued your daily routine, trying not to think about the horrible things that could have happened to him in the meantime.

Six weeks had passed and since then, you hadn’t heard anything of him. No letters, no whispered rumors about the Fatui and their activities, nothing that could even give you the tiniest hint about Scaramouche’s whereabouts and his wellbeing. And you couldn’t deny that you were worried. After all, he had made many enemies throughout the years and surely, all of them were just waiting for an opportunity to take their revenge – and now, even his fellow Harbingers were after him.

Just the thought alone was scary. You clasped the tea cup in front of you tighter to stop your hands from shaking. Everything would be fine. Scaramouche would return to you, just like he had promised. You just needed to be patient for a little while longer. But it was just so incredibly hard to stay optimistic when you knew exactly that Scaramouche wouldn’t have gone underground if he hadn’t deemed it necessary. If he hadn’t known exactly that the other Harbingers would kill him without any hesitation if they found him. Whatever he had done to upset them… it must have been something serious.

You took a sip from your tea as you continued to stare out of the window. The armchair by the windowsill had slowly become your favorite spot in the house over the past couple of weeks, not only because it was incredibly cozy and comfortable but also because you had a perfect view of the main street and would immediately notice when someone would approach your home. But just like yesterday or the day before, there was no sign of Scaramouche. All you could see where merchants, their customers, families and friends who enjoyed their time together. And even those who wandered around the streets alone didn’t seem to be as lonely as you.

But then, as the sun began to set, you saw a familiar silhouette approaching the house, and your heart started racing. Could it be? After almost two months of waiting, could that really be him?

You were already at the door before he even had the opportunity to knock. The next second, you had flung the door open and pulled him into the hallway where you threw your arms around his neck, capturing him in a tight hug. “You’re back,” you whispered, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes as you indulged in his presence and the familiar, comforting warmth of his body.

Slowly, Scaramouche wrapped his arms around your waist. “Yes,” he said quietly and bowed his head to press a soft kiss to your neck, right above your carotid. “I’m here.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please consider following, reblogging and/or leaving some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support! <3

Taglist: @the-gayest-sky-kid @shanmie @genshinparty

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader

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shirohige-pirates · 9 months

Text

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes. 18+ only

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 10: Teenagers in Love

You leaned back against him in the dark hall, his hands slowly unzipping your hoodie as you stood in the entrance hall. There was little left to be said, and there was just enough light that you could see the outline of his fingers against your dark clothes. But even if you couldn’t see him, you were aware of him.

Breath hot against your ear, strong hands pulling your hoodie back and down your arms slowly. He was taking his time, and wouldn’t be rushed.

Not that you wanted to rush him.

Dinner at Thatch’s restaurant had been nearly perfect. Marco’s brother was as comfortable to talk to as Marco was, and by the end of the meal you were bantering playfully with both of them. A single drink, delicious as it had been, wasn’t enough to dull your senses, but it was enough to take the edge off of your concerns.

Marco’s fingers undo your belt, the soft click of thin metal is the only sound you can hear over your rising heartbeat. Your hands are on his arms, not because you need to keep yourself steady, but because you want to touch him, and you both have too much on still.

He undoes the top button of your jeans and you slip out of your shoes, taking a step away and looking at him over your shoulder. He takes his own shoes off, quicker than you think he should be able to, but you’re too focused on other things to care. Pulling your shoulder purse off you set it on the counter and turn to face him.

There’s a light in his eyes, and while they’re still hooded, there’s no denying the fire burning in them.

“I’d… like for you to come inside, when we get to my place.” You say it softly, squeezing his fingers. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look over at him, the fear of rejection making it hard to muster up your earlier confidence.

“Am I being a gentleman?”

“… I’m not going to confine you to my living room.”

“Allow me,” he says, a voice heavy and almost demanding, as he reaches for your belt and tugs it free of your jeans while you start to pull his belt loose.

You step back as he steps toward you, letting him close the gap enough to almost meet your lips before you shift with a smile. He drops your belt on the floor while you pull his free, letting it fall to the floor as you take another step.

The smile on his face promises he’s enjoying the teasing display, and he pulls his t-shirt off, grabbing one end as he brings it down behind your back. He uses his shirt to pull you to him as he steps forward, keeping you from taking another step back.

You gasp a little, suddenly pressed up against him. He tosses the shirt aside, hands on your body before you even realize you’re free and holds you in place as he leans down and kisses you. The heavy kiss makes you moan, your fingers holding onto his arms as your soft gasp of pleasure is enough for his tongue to push into your mouth.

Marco’s hand cradles your head, and he nearly lifts you up as he takes a couple more steps toward the hall leading down to your room. You can’t help the surprise squeak he devours, with how easily he lifts you, your toes just barely leaving the floor before you’re set back down.

“I can be a gentleman in any room of your house, yoi.” He says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do you want to be a gentleman?” You prompt, looking down at your hands.

“What I want isn’t important just yet.”

“… Do you want to sleep with me?” You question after a moment, turning toward him.

You have one hand on Marco’s shirt as you take a step back, looking over your shoulder just enough to make sure you’re headed down the hall and not into a wall. Your other hand is holding your pants up, which desperately needed the belt to stay in place.

“Do you really want to keep those?” He questions, taking another step toward you as you grin and step back.

“At least until you lose that other shirt.”

He smiles, starting to pull the shirt up. The hallway is darker than the living room, but as you step further into it, the dim light of the living room rims his body. The soft glow follows along muscles you were pretty sure you knew where there, but seeing them shift and ripple as he tosses the shirt aside was something else.

Your eyes shift from the edges of his body to the center of it and you let go of your pants as you see a large, and completely unexpected, tattoo on his chest. You get tangled in your pants and start to fall backward, but before you’ve even registered the sensation of falling, Marco’s grabbed you. One hand on your arm, the other around your waist.

“Careful, yoi.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, eyes shifting from his smile to his chest. He rights you, as you step out from your pants entirely, heart thundering in your chest. Your hand reaches for the door handle to your room, eyes locked onto those bright blue ones as you push the lever down and open the door. Stepping backward into the room you hook a finger through the belt loop of his pants, pulling him forward.

Marco’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Yes.” He answers.

“Then I want you to come in and show me what you want.” You admit, as he pulls into your driveway.

Marco puts the car in park, turning off the engine. “And if I don’t want to be a gentleman?”

You grin as he turns toward you. “Even a brute stops when someone says a safe word.”

Marco steps toward you as you tug on his pants, scooping you up and nearly putting you over his shoulder. A surprised noise escapes you before you begin to laugh as his fingers tickle down the backs of your legs.

You don’t have a chance to beg him to stop before he shifts and lets you drop a bit onto your bed, bouncing slightly against the mattress. His arms are under your legs and he pushes you further onto the bed when you bounce. You’re still giggling from the earlier tickling and surprised with how well he’s effectively man handling you, but you realize he’s pretty practiced at moving someone around like this.

“What’s the safe word, pretty bird?” He prompts, setting his knee on the mattress between your legs.

You open your legs, making enough room for his other knee. “Red.”

“Mmm.” He hums, leaning over you, eyes holding your gaze as he leans down enough to kiss you.

You let your fingers wander over his skin as you hum into the kiss, turning your head as needed when he shifts his weight. One arm sinks into the bed as his opposite leg shifts, pulling your legs open a little wider.

He breaks the kiss as the thumb of his free hand traces down the middle of your chest, and down your stomach. His eyes are on you, soft smile on his face as your hands are on his shoulders, your body already squirming with need before his fingers slip under the band of your panties.

He moves his fingers back and forth a little, teasing you without going any further down.

“If you t-tease me, I’ll pin you down and ride you my d-damn self.” You say, trying to assert yourself despite the soft gasps escaping you.

“Say my name, yoi.”

You feel a shiver rattle in your chest. “Haa, w-why?”

“I like the way it sounds.” He leans down, letting his fingers move just a little closer to your throbbing clit, and whispers in your ear. “I want to compare it to all the other sounds you’re going to make for me tonight.”

You can’t remember the last time you whimpered, but you do as he leans back a little, and cover your face with your hands. You hear a pleased chuckle come from him and you will your hands away from your face, holding onto him again. Try as you might, you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes right now.

“M-Marco…” You manage quietly.

“Once more,” he says, and you feel him and the air around him tense. The shift is enough to pull your gaze back toward his, and the sharp look in his eyes makes your heart thump.

“Marc-aahhhh-mmngh!” You gasp, clutching onto his arms as his hands shifts and his finger hits your clit. The sudden, almost rough sensation makes your back arch a little, but even with your squirming his finger doesn’t lose its place.

“M-Marco!” You gasp his name, body squirming more as he relentlessly teases your clit. That sharp gaze is still on you, softened by the satisfied smile that was accompanying it. Usually someone’s finger would slip away when you squirmed and you’d get a second’s reprieve before things continued, but he wasn’t giving you that mercy and you were coming undone fast.

“I’m gonna, haaaa-shit! I’m going to cum!” The flat of his palm laid against the lower part of your stomach, holding you in place a little as your legs twitched and kicked, his finger staying right where he wanted it.

“Don’t fight it.” He says evenly, leaning down closer and pushing your legs wider with his to subdue your trembling body a little as he continued to tease you.

“I, haaa, could-couldn’t if I wah-wanted to!” You cry out. The building pleasure is so fast it’s a little overwhelming, but you want to know how it’s going to feel. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“I won’t.” He promises, kissing your forehead before returning to watching your face.

“Haaaa-fuckin’ ha-ells, I’m going to-!” Your voice is a shivering, breathy mess, and Marco’s gaze doesn’t look nearly so sharp in your hazy vision. “Going to kuh!” The word breaks in your throat as your entire body tenses for a second.

You suck in a breath after your muscles relax a little, the pleasure of the orgasm still flooding your body and Marco follows the breath, kissing you deeply. Your cries of pleasure are muffled by his lips and shifted around by his tongue as though he’s savoring the flavor of them.

He leans back, giving you one more soft kiss before sitting back on his heels and removing his hand from between your thighs. A few small shivers twitch through your limbs as he smiles down at you, lifting your legs up and bringing them together.

“You… you’re not done, I’m not-.”

“I’m not done.” He assures you, chuckling a little as he tugs your panties up and off your legs. “I thought I had it in me to be patient no matter what.” He muses, bringing your legs back down on either side of his thighs. “That I could savor every moment, and not be rushed like some horny teenager.”

He pulls his pants and boxers down enough to free his already stiff cock, stroking it lazily. He reaches behind himself, pulling his wallet free and holding it toward you. You don’t seem to notice it at first and he chuckles.

“Pretty bird.” He hums, pulling your gaze back up to his. “Help me out a little.”

“Ah, sure, sure.” You nod, reaching past the wallet and wrapping your hands around his hard shaft. He sucks in a breath, bucking his hips a little as he moves his hand out of your way.

“Th-that works.” He agrees shakily, and you can hear small grunts as he tries to focus on getting a condom out of his wallet.

You bite your lower lip, running your fingers and palms against his stiff flesh. He seems to be caught between trying to hurry to get the condom on and not wanting to stop you. Clasping your hands together, twining your fingers, you stroke him with your palms, running your thumbs against the underside of his dick and rubbing slow circles as you move to the tip.

“Sssshit,” he puts the edge of the condom wrapper between his teeth, grabbing your hands in his and pulling them away before he traps both your hands in one of his. Using his one free hand he rips the package open, letting out a slow breath.

“You asked for help.” You tease, fingers flexing inside his grip.

“Lesson learned, yoi.” He retorts, a smile on his face as he releases your hands to get the condom on faster. Before you can get your greedy fingers wrapped around him again, he has it against your soaked folds, stroking against you slowly as he catches your hands in his again.

Marco pins your wrists to the bed, attacking your neck and shoulders with kisses. You gasp, laugh and moan as he works, the sudden actions catching you off guard in a good way. You rock your hips, grinding back against him and getting rewarded with a hot gasp of air against your skin.

“Marco,” you murmur and feel his body tense.

You can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses up your neck and nips your ear a little. “As you wish, pretty bird.” He nearly purrs the words before he shifts his hips.

The tip of his cock pushes against your clit a little before it shifts down, slipping between your labia and pushing slowly into you. You’re wet from your earlier orgasm, and you certainly hadn’t cooled down in the short time since. Your fingers flex in his grip, and you gasp a little, your legs opening wider as your toes flex.

“Haa, haa, m-more,” you breathe as he kisses you. The soft fluttering kisses give you enough space to say something if you need to as he works in deeper, stretching you slowly despite his earlier spoken impatience.

“I – hnngh – won’t, won’t break. Marco you can go f-faster.” You grin as he looks into your eyes. “Stop being such a gentleman, doc.”

He makes a face, before leaning down and capturing your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You manage to mumble his name a little before he pushes the rest of the way into you. You moan into the kiss, your body twisting in pleasure as you were held under him.

“Shit,” Marco swears so softly you almost don’t hear it.

You can’t help yourself as silent giggles make your body shake. Marco looks at you, a mix of inquisitiveness and amusement on his face. You bite your lower lip and shake your head.

“N-Nothing, it’s nothing.” You managed to say, trying not to laugh.

Marco rolls his hips causing you to gasp. “Mmhm. What has you so amused, hm?”

You shake your head harder. “It’s mean,” you admit, moving your hips and urging him to move. “I can’t say it.”

“Hm… I wonder how many times I can deny you another orgasm before you’ll tell me, yoi.” He muses, pulling back slowly and pushing back in just as slowly. Letting go of your wrists he reaches behind you and undoes your bra before pulling it off and away.

“You wouldn’t.” You look at him and the smirk on his face and feel the blood rush through you. “… you would. Seriously though, it’s mean!”

“I forgive you.” He prompts with a cheeky grin, keeping his slow pace.

“… if you came too soon like some teenager I’d promise not to tell Thatch.” You grumble looking away as you feel the heat rise to your face.

There was a flicker of light, or so you thought, but whatever it was, it was gone too fast. Your searching eyes found Marco’s and for a split second his eyes were wide enough that you could see the entire circle of his bright blue irises in the dark. Like the flicker of light, the sight was gone almost as fast as you noticed it and you didn’t get time to dwell on it.

Marco pinned your wrists over your head, hooking one of your legs with his free arm as his hips started to thrust into your needy pussy faster. Bent over you like he was, the angle and position left his lower abs to grind against your clit every time he filled you up.

Even with him saying he wasn’t going to be a gentleman, somehow you had expected your first night with the laid back vet to be soft and slow, and maybe even more awkward. But you couldn’t wiggle away from the pleasure he was pushing into you, you couldn’t even hope to wrest control at this point.

“M-Marco, I-I-I said it was m-mean, I’m-!” He slows a little leaning down and kissing you, tongue in your mouth like it belongs in there more than your own. It’s not anger that’s driving him, you know what that feels like, Kid was good at all the shapes anger could take.

This was something else.

Passionate. Insistent. Determined.

Prideful.

You relax and let him dominate you. You’d always resisted. You weren’t the little mouse scurrying about in the world, you were powerful. You were the Great Keeper – strong, and beautiful, and full of pride. Marco wasn’t the only one with a secret devil fruit beating in his soul, but whatever his was, you deferred to it.

And you did so in a way you had never done before.

“Please,” you murmur as he leans back from kissing you. Your brain is fuzzy, your body’s warm, and you just want to sink into him. “Please Marco… more. T-take more, please.”

There’s a rush of flames, blue and gold, and enchantingly beautiful, that flare in the air just as he shifts, covering your eyes with his hand. His voice slips into your ear, heavy and needy and demanding.

“As you wish, (Y/N).”

#Birds of a Feather #Marco x reader #x reader #reader insert #marco the phoenix #marco the pinepple #modern au

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eruden-writes · 2 years

Text

Room & Board - Part 9 (Vampire x Reader)

Anon submitted this prompt: For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

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The closing on your new house goes quicker than you anticipate. Hell, it goes quicker than the most hopeful estimates online. You take a week off work for the move. While your co-workers chuckle about backing and moving all those heavy things and then the dreaded unpacking, only one of those really applies to you. Part of your closing deal entailed a hired moving company, the stipulation ironically insisted by the seller.

Once more, the concern of something weird happening flared, but you shoved it aside. Now, all you had to worry about was unpacking.

Which, honestly, seemed a lot more daunting as you stood in your home, staring at all the packed boxes and furniture. The movers had, thankfully, placed much of the furniture in their approximate locations, as well. On the plus side, you had severely upgraded. The amount of things you owned, in that small apartment, would barely be enough to fill your new living room.

Within a couple days, you and Tabaeus had managed to unpack, put things away - likely to be moved a few more times until you two settled on a more permanent place, - and broke down the boxes once more.

Of course, with Tabaeus doing more, they insist on more feedings. Without work the next day, you tend to oblige, especially when he gets the more mind-numbing parts of unpacking done while you sleep.

As the two of you sit on your couch, relaxing after finally getting your TV hooked up and mounted on the wall, Tabaeus turns to you. "So, how does it feel?"

Your eyebrows arch, not quite understanding. "How does what feel?"

"Homeownership," Tabaeus says, with a flourish of his long-fingered hand. "You said it was a rare thing for people your age in this economy?"

"Yeah... It feels a little weird. Like this is all mine to do whatever in and upkeep." You raise your arms, indicating the whole of the house with a sweep. For all your life, even with your parents, you always lived in a rental. Now that your home is yours, it almost seems too daunting to focus on. As your arms fall back into place, you shrug and smile, "It's nice. Not sure I can do it alone, so if you leave, warn me so I can find another roomie."

The two of you haven't spoken much about what transpired in the sewer. With the daunting task of closing, packing, moving, and unpacking, your brain hadn't dedicated much time to it in the earlier days. But most of those worries had been checked off with very little effort from you. So you had certainly considered many facets of that night.

Many a night, you had sat in bed, tired of worrying over the move and shifted to pondering about what you'd found out in the sewer. How the items did stir memories, but Tabaeus still couldn't say if they were his or his victims' memories. How an anti-vampire box lingered among the things, either from Tabaeus's former enemies or as a Plan B should eternity get to be too much.

Your mind often went back to the journal in the anti-vampire box, as well. Something had kept you from tearing it open the moment you got home. You weren't even sure if Tabaeus realized it had been there, among the items.

If they hadn't realized it, would it illuminate some questions? Or would it be the nail in the proverbial coffin for your trust in Tabaeus?

Maybe they had they merely forgotten about it, as they apparently had done with so many other things. Or perhaps they knew it was there and were satisfied it contained nothing incriminating.

"I am not planning to leave your side, any time soon." Tabaeus's calm, firm words stir you from the downward spiral of your thoughts. You focus on them, your heart fluttering at their soft smile.

And then there is that. The quiet assurance that Tabaeus had no plans to leave you. It was at once comforting and disconcerting. Did that confidence extend beyond your comfort? Would they force you to let them stay, even if you were ready to end the arrangement?

You're not sure how to answer them, so you glance away while humming an acknowledgement of their words.

The two of you fall quiet, both staring at the blackened screen of the TV. Somewhere, a clock ticks and you vaguely wonder where it could be. You have no analog clocks that you can think of.

"I think I'm gonna order something to eat." You can't take the quiet anymore nor the phantom clock. With a shove, you push yourself off the couch and to your feet. Turning partially back to Tabaeus, you ask, "You want anything in particular?"

Despite the popular bit of lore that vampires were incapable of ingesting anything but blood, Tabaeus could eat. It wasn't as fulfilling as drinking blood nor as energizing, but they didn't spew at the smallest bite of 'human food.'

Tabaeus makes a sound deep in their throat, as if they have an idea but are hesitant to share it. They shake their head, dislodging whatever they're going to say. You presume it has something to do with your blood. Casting you a smile, they answer, "I quite liked that pizza place."

With a nod, you go to your office to place the order via the computer. It's an extra room on the first floor, with a large window peering into the front yard. Thankfully, the former owner left curtains and blinds for all the rooms, otherwise you'd feel rather exposed in your own new home.

After you place the order - with an extra side, drinks, and a dessert for celebratory reasons - you make your way back to the living room, to Tabaeus's side.

They seem rather quiet, sitting with their shoulders slumped while scratching one nail lightly along the arm of the couch.

With little space between you and Tabaeus, you turn to them on the couch. "Something wrong?"

Their attention snaps to you, as if surprised at your sudden appearance. They must have been deep in thought. A half-smile appears on Tabaeus's lips. "I confess I was hoping you would be a bit more exuberant. I simply need to temper my hopes a bit more, I suppose."

That makes you feel a little bad. Tabaeus had been doing a lot to make this move go smoothly. From being the one to put forth the funds to doing overtime in the unpacking and even making sure the sugar gliders' habitat was disassembled and reassembled properly. If it wasn't for them, you'd be much more stressed and exhausted than you were.

"I'm just still adjusting to having a house," you sigh and shrug, offering them a small smile. "Trust me, I am really happy this all has happened. Just, you know, I'm cautious."

Also true. Somewhere in the back of your head, you were waiting for something to go wrong. Maybe the house falling in on itself - which wouldn't happen, according to the inspectors - or some housing law ripping your new abode away. Or, hell, even just an unforeseen disaster of some sort.

"As you should be," they say, running the back of their fingers down your cheek. The touch sends shivers down your spine and their words, dipped in an almost reverential softness, caress your skin, "Even now, I crave you."

"That's not what I meant," you snort, shaking your head at Tabaeus's forthright desires. Despite yourself, your lips still curl with a smile. The movement of your head unintentionally makes them pull away, though.

"Oh." Their eyes flicker away, shoulders hunching as they realize they misread your words. Pointed ears drooping.

Amusement flickers in you as you eye them. Deep down, you do enjoy their affections, even if Tabaeus hedges into it a little more often than you're used to. It's just scary, knowing what they are and that even they think they were some cruel creature in the past. Although, perhaps your heartbeat speeds not from fright or worry,

But that was then and this was now, right? You had yet to see them do anything terrible. Well, other than mesmerize a rude customer into throwing themself into the mall fountain, but that was pretty minor, all things considered.

The downtrodden expression on Tabaeus's features pull at your heartstrings. They were really looking forward to something a bit more fun, weren't they? Glancing at your cell phone, you decide to indulge them. The pizza wouldn't arrive for nearly 40 more minutes.

Tucking your phone back into your pocket, you swing yourself into Tabaeus's lap. Their eyes fly wide, mouth opening to yelp or ask what you are doing. Their surprise allows you to grasp the back of their head, angling their face toward your neck. An almost imperceptible whine escapes Tabaeus, sending a delightful flare through you.

"Wh-what are you doing?" The question comes out in a hushed breath, as if they're afraid to break the moment.

You angle your head to expose your neck further to them. "You can smell it, right? My blood?"

They fall silent, their fingers digging into your hips where they landed when you abruptly hopped into their lap. Their answer is quiet, almost shameful. "Mh-hmm."

"Well, we are very close. The scent must be so overwhelming." You know you're goading them and skirting a dangerous line, especially as you pull them closer to your throat. But every day had a little dose of danger, living with a vampire. Right? Faintly, you remember how they acted at your old apartment, kneeling by your side and pouting at you. How they reacted to your fingers in their hair and the rough tug on their locks. "You're doing such a good job restraining yourself, aren't you?"

"Yesss," Tabaeus answers in a hiss. You can't help the amused smile that flickers over your lips. It's a little cruel, you know, to taunt them like this. A spark skips down your spine as you feel the briefest brush of their lips as their mouth opens, not touching your throat by oh-so-close. You wonder if they can taste you on the very air.

A sudden, mischievous thought flashes through your brain. Tabaeus is so focused on your throat, your scent, the pump of your blood, it would be so easy to surprise them.

Without further thought for the potential repercussions, you jerk forward and land your open mouth against the crux of their neck and shoulder. A sharp gasp leaves Tabaeus, turning into a strangled moan as you bite down on them. They taste like your soap and dust and something inexplicably them.

Almost at once, you pull back laughing, but Tabaeus jerks into action. The whole world around your blurs as they push off the couch, throwing the both of you to the floor. Their hand clutches the back of your head, protecting it from the hardwood as you land. Your knees angle wide, the weight and length of Tabaeus's body pressing down against your body.

They are strangely heavy for such a lithe creature. Their weight bears down on you, not crushing you but firmly keeping you pinned to the floor.

Your eyes widen at the sudden change, widening further as Tabaeus catches your lips against their own. A sound sticks in your throat, along with a gasp. Their hands are now on your cheeks, fingers splayed and holding your face still. With eyelids fluttering shut and your own hands go to their wrists, though you return the sudden kiss with as much fervor as they offer.

It's suddenly unbearably warm, their tongue demanding in your mouth as your own returns the favor. Without thinking, you nip at their lower lip, eliciting a low guttural sound in their chest. Your already thrumming heart further trips as the vibrations echo through your body, causing your toes to curl and muscles to flex.

Their hips roll against you, their mounting excitement obvious against their strained pants. Excitement flares from your core, up your spine, and spiders along your body. Your back arches, thighs squeezing against Tabaeus's sides. Your grasp on their wrists tightens until your nails are biting hard into their skin.

An urge to touch more of them flares. Your hands slide down their arm, relaxing enough to accommodate the growing curves of their forearms.

Sudden pain sinks into your own lower lip just as your palms skirt the sides of their neck and you start roughly. A whine creeps up your throat, before you taste the tang of blood. Your eyes crack open, lips part with hitched breathing as Tabaeus jerks away. They hover close, not pulling fully away, and stare down at you. The look in their eyes is wild and concerned and a little feral.

Their gaze darts over your face and you watch their tongue flick across their lower lip, scooping up the droplet of your blood. They don't look ashamed, but neither do they look smug. It takes you a breath to realize they're assessing your reaction, gauging if they'd gone too far or not far enough or...

Well, you really don't know. And you don't get a chance to introspect further as your doorbell sings out.

"Coming!" You call out, instantly remembering the delivery order as you shove Tabaeus's face away and scramble to your feet. They let you go, though you feel their red gaze on you the entire way. Trying to shove the knowledge you're definitely embarrassingly super-flushed, you open the door to the delivery person.

They stand in the light of your front porch, sporting the bright orange polo and hat of your favorite pizza parlor. Curls poke out from under their cap and the crooked scar - obscured a little under their glasses - across their freckled nose tickles at your memories. It takes you half-a-breath to realize you know them. "Ewan?"

"Oh, hey! Long time no see," laughs the former co-worker of Milk King Lemon Jollies. As it always did, Ewan's toothy grin sends a little rush through you. Putting your feelings for him into words was always difficult. Calling it a crush sounded painfully juvenile, while just chalking it up to enjoying his charismatic company felt like a lie.

You're aware your flush has impossibly deepened further when the old colleague points at his own mouth. "You okay? You're bleeding."

"Shoot. Sorry,I bit my lip really badly. Thought the bleeding stopped," you instantly ramble out a lie, chuckling weakly as you suck your lower lip into your mouth and press your tongue against it. The heat in your cheeks pique again, snippets of seconds earlier playing through your head.

Ewan doesn't seem to find the excuse weak. Though he does watch as you suckle on your own lip, before seemingly remembering himself. He hands over your pile of boxes, his green eyes flickering to see what little of the house he can from this position. "Jemma told me you scored a house! Pretty awesome."

"Haha, yeah," you offer a weak smile as you accept the boxes. "Just moved in, actually."

"Oh really? Looking for a roommate?" Your face burns hotter as Ewan sticks his tongue out between his teeth and winks.

In a brief second, you consider how to answer. It's a joke, obviously, but you certainly wouldn't deny Ewan a room. Especially if he needed it. You recall how he complained about renting and having to take multiple jobs just to pay bills.

With that thought comes the other things you considered when choosing this house. Namely, the additional rooms and pursuing a romantic relationship with someone while continuing your arrangement with Tabaeus. Your thoughts have barely pondered whether Ewan even seemed the type to believe in vampires - let alone accept your companion - when Tabaeus slips behind you.

"Ah, the food! I am starving!" They reach around you, boxing you into their arms as they play at scooping up the pizzas from your hold. Instant fear flickers in your head, as you angle your eyes up at them. Thankfully, they have tucked their pointed ears into a knit beanie hat.

Your gratitude is short lived as Tabaeus tosses Ewan an easy glance, their cool palms squeezing against your hands. Your skin prickles, catching something almost dangerous in Tabaeus's tone, "Do you two know each other?"

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