#thankfully she is v patient }}
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dadsbongos · 7 months ago
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a king, his advisor, and the betrothed
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@toxycodone the fic is here fren
11 K words / warnings - reader has vag n wears a dress once, threesome WOAH, p in v + p in a sex, oral (m receiving), kabru is a fan of inappropriate workplace relationships
summary - Laios cannot find a suitor on his own, so Kabru is forced to summon an old... friend... for help.
~~~
“Just… someone you would like, then.”
“Someone I would like?”
“Yeah! If you like them, they must be good, right?”
“This isn’t about… ugh, fine.”
Kabru already knew exactly who to set up with Laios, but he wanted to grant himself a few more hours of delusion by drafting a list of desired traits.
.
.
.
A queen should be: diligent and humble, wise and patient. Honest.
Ideally, a short-lived king should marry from another short-lived race. Any children will therefore be short-lived as well, which Kabru considers highly preferable. Another tallman is his best option to keep infertility sparse.
Laios’ personality will need to be accounted for as well (Kabru finds that the longer he dawdles, the more fun he has hypothesizing Laios’ perfect match).
Laios, specifically, needs someone blunt and unencumbered by conformity -- the man seems to thrive when others feel comfortable speaking frankly with him. Someone from another royal court will not do, and especially not someone descended from direct nobel blood. Furthermore, Laios is clueless as to what his own title ensues, so he does little more for his countrymen than make appearances or pass budgets and bills. So for Kabru’s own sanity, someone intelligent and inclined to make Laios do his actual job is also preferred.
They must balance indulgence and sobriety for the man’s antics, as well as willingness to sit through Laios’ obscure personality.
Wait…
“No,” Kabru scratches that last half of his sentence, ink bleeding across the page, “What kind of matchmaker settles?”
They must like Laios, and Laios must like them. Laios is not a man Kabru can envision enduring loveless marriage, it’d be too awkward and the dolt would have it annulled.
Someone not petrified by monsters and intrigued by Laios’ strange personality, but also not so deranged as to be exactly like Laios.
Again, a single name comes to Kabru’s mind, but this time he does not put it off. He’s had his fun scheming, now he must draft a letter to the Northern Continent. To a village chief’s firstborn -- acquainted well enough with basic politics while also sharing a similar upbringing with Laios.
You’re perfect.
You’re also…
“An ex-party member?” Laios’ eyes skim over the contents of Kabru’s summoning letter, addressed at the top to you, “Cool.”
“Yeah, an ex-party member,” Kabru sighs to himself, imagining Rin beating him over the head with her staff right about now, “I think you should know, I briefly- ”
“Kabru,” Laios shakes his head, grinning, “I don’t care. If you trust them, I do.”
Briefly -- sure -- if an entire year and some months was brief. Kabru sighs louder and decides to let Laios find out on his own, since the king is so determined to look cool and easygoing.
In any case, you’ll be fond of Laios, Kabru’s certain.
Certain, and also dreading.
Year 512
“Where’d you find the space case anyway?”
“You sound upset.”
“Look!” Rin flings a gloved arm straight out, gesturing heatedly towards where the party’s newest member is staring straight at the first floor’s cracked ceiling.
Both hands squeezing the straps of your pack, you leave your throat completely exposed in order to gaze at a dark, faraway roof. The ease with which Kabru could slit your tender neck is comical, he finds it more concerning than charming. Any hoodlum or hooligan could rob and beat you blind and you’d be incapable of a proper defense.
“Let me handle it,” Kabru hopes to placate Rin with a soft grin, its success is limited because Rin’s known him long enough to push through his gushy exterior. She puts up no fight, thankfully, and let him approach you alone, “Hey!”
“Shh!” you hiss cutting your fingers along your jaw to silence him. His shock and horror at your rudeness must be visible because you wave that same hand around and smile, “Sorry. It’s just…”
Pointing up, your stare returns to the ceiling. Eyes wide and lips curled with glee. Kabru heeds and grimaces: glistening slimes the shade of clovers goop between gaping slashes in the ceiling. Pulsating and shivering as one beating organ, Kabru can’t think up a more disgusting sight.
“Slimes are sensitive to the heat we exhale, so the louder you are the easier they can find you.”
Blinking at you as inconspicuous as possible, Kabru asks, “Why stand right under them then?”
“They’re so weird. They don’t look intelligent, but they move around easily and developed such a scary way to trap prey. Pretty neat.”
Kabru has half a mind to cut you out of the party just for saying that, until you tack on a,
“Still super gross, though. We should move before they notice us.”
Kabru nods, watching you cross towards the rest of the party before following with a silent prayer that you’re not actually a monster fanatic.
His prayers are answered on the second floor -- your party is down, Holm and Daya crumpled over on opposite sides of the tree den. Kuro is strewn over a shaking, teary Mickbell with a bloody gash in his back. Rin has a similar slash, only deep in her gut and Kabru can tell she’s bleeding out fast.
While he prides himself on his wit and light thinking, Kabru is horrified by the sight of his party in agony. Planning so far ahead of himself he’s trying to scheme how to charm a passing healer into aiding Rin or reviving Holm, meanwhile he can’t even be certain he’s going to survive this attack. His own life is on the back on his mind, body stiff in preparation to swing his sword and cut off the chicken head of a charging Basilisk.
But how should he cut? It has to have a carotid artery, or a heart, but where? What if his strike is at a wrong angle and the snake side gobbles you all up.
Suddenly, the glint of your sword blinds him -- you snip the snake in half, exploiting the monster’s following stagger to round its body and stab through the Basilisk’s head. Tearing outward and splattering Kabru in blood as the beast drops.
He looks to you in silence, knees sore and wobbly and hands a shaking wreck.
Simply, you say, “The snake head is the real head, so if you attack that end first the chicken tail is distracted and easy to sneak up on,” then, you notice his trembling, “Oh, sorry…”
As if waiting for permission, Kabru’s body gives out once your hands find his shoulders. You smooth a palm over his back while shredding the loose material of your blouse to mop up the mess. Gently soaking Basilisk blood from his face with a frown marring your face, continuously murmuring apologies.
Kabru takes your wrist in his hand, blinking back his shock to sigh, “Thank you.”
Suspecting there’s more words jumbled on his tongue, you patiently wait that way: knelt beside Kabru as he squeezes your wrist.
“I think we should go back to the surface.”
You nod quickly. Much quicker than he’d assume you would given how directly you dealt with the terrifying Basilisk, “Do you want me to head back and get corpse retrievers? I doubt we could carry everyone up by ourselves.”
He takes note of how you specifically exclude Mickbell, presumably due to the young man’s hysterics.
The sharp tang of raw iron is filling Kabru’s nose, he chokes on it. He can’t stand to smell it a second more.
“No,” but inhaling through his mouth makes him taste it, rotting each bud on his tongue, “No. I’m the party leader, I should get them.”
Your eyes are lidding, no shock or awe found in the twinkle of your iris -- you were expecting this response.
“Sure, Kabru, I’ll wait with Mickbell.”
You don’t call him out on it, though.
Once the party has been revived and Kabru’s thrown the men their coins, you suggest the crew return a floor above.
“I’m sure nobody wants to eat where they died, so let’s have lunch up there and save instead of visiting a stall,” you gasp quietly and cover your mouth, then deferring to Kabru, “If that sounds good to you? Sorry… I shouldn’t have spoken so boldly like that…”
“No, you’re right,” even though he’s not looking to confirm, Kabru can feel Rin burning holes into his skull with her glare, “I think that’s a good idea.”
Secretly he’s glad no outsiders heard you make that call -- he isn’t ashamed to be bossed around by someone in a blouse, but he’s also not unrealistic. Others seeing that could threaten his meager status among the adventuring community. He’d be the wimp pushed around by his own members.
Interrupting his spiral, again, is you, “Okay, let’s get going then!” you clamp another hand over your mouth, “Right, Kabru?”
“Right.”
Thankfully, it is just your party who only finds your zealousness comedic rather than an opportunity for mutiny.
Returning visit to the first floor proves you about as useful as the initial one did.
Holm and Daya are unpacking rations with Mickbell and Kuro straggling at the edge of the blondes’ conversation. Rin is fetching water. Kabru is watching you; and he knows he should be either helping Rin, or lecturing you to help Rin, but he keeps watching.
He cannot hear you, but he knows you’re speaking -- crouched to make eye contact with a pair of slight humans. Round cheeks and marblesque eyes tell Kabru they’re just scratching at maturity. Not even thirteen.
The shorter one, a boy with freckles, picks at tender plumes of skin around his nails, knees shaking. He finds no voice, but the girl beside him does. She squeezes the shirt over her heart and her brows furrowed with passion, he can barely make out the words: mage, fourth, corpse retrievers.
One of your hands is perched on your bent knees while the other grazes along the forsaken graveyard, your head tilts and if he really forces his ears then Kabru can hear you ask, “How did you get separated?”
The girl’s shoulders go lax, lip twitching down as she sputters a reply. The boy’s picking grows frantic, his head shaking and voice shivery (this time Kabru can pick up: without her, no chance).
Kabru’s gaze hones on you, dissecting each twinge in your face as you process the information. Daya and Holm’s voices become vague, like buzzing insects, even Rin’s agitated staring from the fountain is pushed out of focus. How will you react to these children?
It's a horrible story, he’s sure. He’s so sure it’s a truly heartbreaking tale about two little ones separated from their ward on a lower level due to a snap decision from fear. However, it could also be just that: a story.
Criminals banned from The Island’s coasts often seek refuge in the bowels of the dungeon. Kabru feels confident that as this dungeon continues to fester unconquered: criminals are beginning to raise their children here.
If you blindly follow them down, you’re a fool. If you hand over all your party’s gold, you’re a fool. If you do nothing, you’re heartless. Heartlessness can be worse than foolishness, at least fools have good intentions.
Fingers wrap around the stem of a limping flower and pull, cutting it clean from the floor and holding the plant for both children. You push your hand closer to the kids, waiting until the girl grasps the flower before speaking again,
Something long winded, and judging by the shudders racketing down the boy’s frail body something rather dismal too. Yet you’re beaming up at the children, then they’re smiling as well. Rising to your feet, you brush moss stains from your knees and wave the children off with a promise Kabru can actually hear,
“If my party finds any retrievers, we’ll send them down.”
With eager nods, the kids sniffle and affirm their bravery to you -- the girl cradling the plucked daisy to her chest. You return to your party’s camp and boldly declare,
“I think we should try reaching the fourth floor soon.”
Rin bonks you with an elbow to the side, “Where’s this enthusiasm when I needed help carrying the water?”
Rubbing the tenderized area, you laugh and accept her frustration, “Sorry. Got caught up.”
“Obviously,” Rin sighs, falling to her knees around the party’s temporary camp.
Kabru sits as well, still observing as you apologize to Rin again though your eyes trailing the kids as they heft food packs onto their shoulders and begin their trek.
Mickbell settles into Kuro’s lap, Daya has begun digging into her plate while Holm ensures everyone has a filling portion. Rin agrees to dissolve the tension, meaning you two can begin gaffing amongst yourselves. As if you never left, the party is normal.
Despite your itch to reach the fourth floor as soon as possible, you don’t mention the interaction whatsoever.
Overall, Kabru considers your first dive with the party a cohesion success.
Year 515
“Don’t speak over or interrupt. Got it?”
“Okay.”
“At all.”
“Alright.”
“I’m serious,” Kabru’s eyes widen a smidge, as if to force how pertinent it is that Laios absorbs this lesson, “I’m still upset about the meeting last week.”
“I didn’t know he wasn’t done talking,” Laios frowns, shrugging in an obnoxiously coy play, the worst part being that Kabru knows Laios does it in earnest. His stupid kicked-puppy stare is entirely genuine, “That guy takes long breaths, it’s hard to tell when he’s done.”
“Well try harder to tell now,” a wave of guilt hits Kabru in the chest, heart squeezing at the sight of Laios’ frown deepening, “I don’t mean to upset you. I just… I want this to go well.”
“I do, too, you know?”
Kabru finds that hard to believe, but Laios isn’t lying to him right now. He’d know otherwise. Whether Laios can make a positive impression will have to be seen, but the man clearly has no intentions of sabotaging himself.
For all his lackluster socio-political ambitions, Laios is still a good king: insightful to the experience of commonmen and quick to new ways of strengthening their country. He has yet to give citizens, or Kabru, valid reason to question his ability to rule.
“I’m sure,” Kabru turns in his desk chair, bracing his forehead with his palm, “Let’s get this finished then.”
“But- “ Laios hesitates when he’s shot an icy glare from Kabru, “But I’m so hungry…”
As if to punctuate his torment, Laios’ stomach grumbles. Loudly. Echoing through the informal setting of Kabru’s personal quarters.
“My poor royal majesty,” Kabru coos, inked with sarcasm, “Will you survive till lunch?”
Laios’ eyes go thin, arms folding, “Don’t demean me.”
“It’s one meal. You’ll hardly die. The faster we finish this paperwork, the quicker we can usher you to breakfast.”
“I want to go now,” Laios, with no sense of self, lays his lips into the crook of his advisor’s neck. Soft, plump flesh scorching Kabru’s pulse, then a cold flash of bone: teeth, “I’m starving.”
Bladepoint canines puncture Kabru’s skin, shock blinding him to the scathing scratch till after Laios has already pulled away. Saliva stringing them together before Laios snaps it, sloppily swiping the wrist of his sleeve across his mouth.
“Disgusting,” Kabru starkly avoids eye contact by glaring at the sheen of spit on his shoulder, cupping the inflamed flesh, “Go change your shirt now, it’s not a handkerchief.”
He doesn’t remember when he first felt comfortable being so venomous around Laios, only that it's easier than trying to be pleasant all the time.
“After I eat?” Laios prompts.
“After you eat,” Kabru massages his tensing temples, working away the headache as it builds.
Upon Laios’ exit, Kabru traces the shallow indents with his fingertips -- lashes fluttering against his cheeks at the resulting faint sting. Now he’ll be forced to find a new shirt of his own, one that hides his bruising mark.
Year 513
“As long as we don’t piss off any living armor, we should be able to get to the fourth floor, at least,” you nod to yourself, hands steady and body firm as you hold up your homemade map of the area.
Raucous groans follow your cheery assessment, and a cursory glance back shows your party in disarray: Rin and Holm have heavy, discolored bags beneath their eyes. Daya is leaning against her axe with quaking arms while Mickbell coils around Kero’s shoulders. Even Kabru can admit he looks worse for wear, or assumes he does because he certainly feels at his worst.
“Oh, unless you all want to head back?” you roll the map up and wave a hand dismissively, almost seeming ashamed of the previous suggestion. Cautious to maintain a soothing and even tone, clearly doing your best to prevent any of them from feeling coddled or mocked.
Not that he truly wants to, but Kabru agrees, “Probably for the best. We’re running low on food, so we should save what we have for the journey back.”
“Makes sense,” you don’t appear disappointed or discouraged, “There’s always next time.”
“Enough optimism,” Mickbell whines, “It’s making me all nauseous.”
“Be nice,” Rin chastises, then looking at you forlorn, “You could probably carry on without us.”
Her dejected lilt prevents any accusations of wanting you to go it alone.
“No way, I’d go crazy by myself!”
Kabru reads that instantly as a lie -- if your scrunching brows and fidgeting hands weren’t telling enough then perhaps you don’t remember confessing to him your days as a solo adventurer.
You could easily carry on without the rest of the party. Hell, you could even join a better, stronger party -- the Toudens, maybe. They’d chomp at your skills if they cared even a little about their fellow men. Kabru bets you would even be able to form a party of your own with ease.
“We’re strongest when everyone’s at their best, after all,” you reassure, turning your back on the dream to hit fourth floor this crawl in favor of aiding your party’s exhaustion, “As long as we can go that deep eventually, I’ll die happily.”
Kabru doesn’t bring up how rapidly approaching the date for you to sail back home is, he gets the sense you wouldn’t want him to.
“Well don’t go keeling on us as soon as we do,” Rin’s scowl loosens, only slightly, when you smile in return and loop an arm through hers.
“Of course, not, Rin. Who else would terrorize you if I died?”
Quickly, the mage’s dark eyes flick to Kabru before returning to you, “I have an idea.”
“Oh, duh.”
Her gaze lingers on the way you’re staring at Kabru and how Kabru stares back. She must read his fondness because her forehead wrinkles up and she tugs you forward, “Yeah, duh.”
Year 515
Kabru’s foot taps impatiently, knowing it’d be improper were he to rush over and help you down from the carriage himself. But forgive the man, he’s in a hurry to have you at his side again.
He wonders if you wear the same perfume.
He wonders if you’ll take to Laios immediately, or will it take the entire two weeks before your wedding ceremony for you to warm to him?
Most of all, he wonders if he can compose himself during the entire courting process.
“Hey!”
Kabru’s mind snaps back into the present at your call, you’re charging over with an ecstatic wave. He waves back, calmer and centered towards his chest.
“It’s great to see you again!” you effortlessly knock the polite handshake Kabru extends aside to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Imagine my surprise, the first time you send a letter is to try and marry me to a king!”
“I never found the time to write back when things finally got interesting,” Kabru bluffs, returning your hug. Warmth spreads between the both of you, if he focuses hard enough he can make out the dull thud of your heart, “Hopefully this makes up for it.”
“Definitely,” you pull back, rolling your eyes, “Father made my brother village chief while I was on The Island, so there wasn’t anything left for me to do there.”
“Perfect time to get one up on your brother. Even just marrying into royalty is better than village chief.”
You hum thoughtfully, “Let’s meet Laios Touden first. I remember he was kind of a weird guy, no?”
“He still is,” Kabru shrugs, turning to guide you into the main hall as men lug your bags towards the castle’s south wing, “He’s nice, at least. Wants to make living easier,” he glances back at you over his shoulder, “Handsome, too. You must remember what he looks like.”
“I remember he was big.”
“Strong, yeah,” Kabru slows to match paces with you through the rolling corridors, “Nice jawline, pretty eyes, and the slope of his nose isn’t terrible. He’s kind of an outstanding specimen, physically I mean.”
“Oh…” you press a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at his rambling, “So his looks do the heavy lifting?”
“Just something to keep in mind,” he pauses outside a set of tall double doors, one hand braced against the hanging, solid black handle, and the other drawing circles into his temple, “His unique personality hasn’t faded with becoming king.”
“How interesting.”
“That’s a word for it.”
Laios is slumped comfortably back into his throne, sunlight complimenting his bored expression before he notices the pair pushing through his grandeur. Immediately, his eyes sink into you, scrawling from the top of your head to your feet in blatant observation. Staunchly, his gaze remains respectful to your modesty, indicating he’s purely sizing you up; perhaps confirming whether or not he could take you in a fight. Or to use you as a meager replacement for his monsters, studying your anatomy and mentally attaching tails and horns and heads where he sees fit.
“King Laios,” you politely remain behind Kabru. Your own gaze lurches over the king’s body as well, much less clinical than his examination -- you already know you could take him in a fight. What you want to imagine now, is if he’s the outstanding specimen that Kabru claimed, “So nice to see the Golden Kingdom for myself.”
“Prettier than the North,” Laios, much to Kabru’s unspoken irritation, scratches the back of his head without grace, “You’re from there too, right? How has it been? I haven’t been in awhile.”
“Oh, you know,” none of the men from your village look like Laios, despite their hard labor they aren’t built like him. Big. Beefy. Chewable also comes to mind; you could chew him up and be full of protein. From the little pouch of his stomach you surmise he isn’t cut or excessively defined, which drives you mad, “Same as usual. Cold and quiet.”
“Mhm. How about the monsters up top? I don’t think anybody from my village was willing to slay them,” he folds his arms, legs spreading as he readjusts for comfort, head ticking curiously, “I’ve been thinking lately that they could be overrun by monsters if nobody fights them off.”
Kabru’s irritation grows, having to claw at his thighs to restrain from choking the man. He may be older and bigger and more powerful than Kabru is, but Laios is the most painfully oblivious man in the world. He just has to be. He’s so focused on not attacking his king that Kabru almost misses how eyes scald his side at the mention of monsters overtaking the North.
“I haven’t noticed anything unusual,” and you mean that, the North truly is as boring as it was when you were growing up, “Maybe more acceptance for magic, but that’s mostly to combat the increase in ghosts.”
“Increase in ghosts,” Laios’ eyes bulge, posture straightening out in vivid excitement, “Do they know why there’s so many? Do they just wander around, or do they remain in cemeteries?”
“Ah, King Laios,” you try to hide the way your eyes bounce repeatedly towards Kabru’s rigid frame. His hands are balled, even shaking, and his stare is aimed over the king’s right shoulder, “Perhaps we could get some privacy before discussing such things?” you boldly step forward, correctly assuming Laios would take no offense at the intrusion, “We should get to know each other on our own.”
“Oh, right!” Laios waves a dismissal towards Kabru, apologizing for holding the man so long.
You don’t ask Kabru if he’s okay before he leaves, but you take one of his hands and squeeze it gingerly. Smiling tenderly and bidding him well. A soft halo of gold ringing around your head from sunlight pouring through glass panes.
“Don’t let- ” just as he’s apologizing for his king, you silence Kabru.
“I’ll form my own opinion,” you release his hand, still grinning, “You trust me, don’t you?” he nods, of course he does, “So trust me to gather my own thoughts, okay?”
Oh, God that cannot be a good sign.
Please, please, please -- he’s contemplating getting on his knees to pray outside the doors -- please don’t let his reaction to Laios’ monster obsession make you hate the king. You’re his only choice, the only one that will do!
You’re kind and strong willed and beautiful and he’d love to have you living under the same roof as himself.
Not that that has anything to do with his decision. No, no, that would be idiotic.
That would be the worst plan he’s ever planned in his entire life. So, he’s glad it's separate from his real motivation.
At least, he’s glad until that night. Alone in his bed with only moonlight shining along his pristine sheets.
For hours Kabru has been cooped in his room, and technically he’s been cooped in his mind even longer. Since the second a passing pair of guards relieved him from lingering outside the throne room, Kabru blindly stumbled through his messy thoughts.
Worse now than ever before is the desperation to know. Clawing him apart from the inside out. He needs to know.
To know what you’re feeling. To know what’s being said. To know why you two never came out, even hours after Kabru left. In explicit detail, he must know. What you like about Laios, what you don’t, what you find attractive, if you got hot in the face when you saw him, if you ever felt that way about Kabru, if you think Kabru’s attractive, if you accepted his invitation just because Kabru sent it or because you truly wanted to meet Laios.
He can’t just ask, so now he must meticulously set up a series of precision events to fish the information out.
Because your hesitance to emphatically accept the proposal confuses Kabru. You’ve never been particularly picky about partners, but you’re not the type for manufacturing attraction to spare a person’s feelings. So theory one is that Laios is not physically appealing to you.
Though not even that explanation makes sense. To be short, Kabru doesn’t understand how you couldn’t be attracted to Laios. Such strong, determined features demanded attention; and trust, the attention would be positive.
Broad shoulders and meaty thighs, Laios’ build is admirable on its own: Kabru could sink his teeth into Laios’ bicep and never cut bone. Aside from that is the healthy fluff of blonde hair his king keeps trimmed, as well as his face. Remaining clean shaven gives an air of proper hygiene and self-sufficiency that makes Laios seem more attractive.
Kabru cannot fathom how you’re not preparing vows yet.
That thought makes him shoot up in bed, eyes wide and a hand curled into his churning gut.
Why can’t Kabru fathom how you’re not preparing vows? Why does he find it so peculiar?
That type of questioning, this obsession -- it implies Kabru wants to prepare vows, doesn’t it?
With ragged grumbling Kabru collapses back into his mattress, letting his fried brain melt through his ears as he finally attempts giving in to sleep.
He wakes to a nightmare the next morning -- you and Laios are alone in the great hall, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the end closest to the kitchen. Chairs pushed so close the armrests are peeling against each other, elbows knocking as Laios forgoes all table etiquette. Not once do you scold or demean him. Instead seeming too engrossed at the ear-nibbling of shapeshifter trivia Laios is laying down.
“Did you ever run into one?” Laios asks, eyes a little too glittery for someone who must’ve woken quite early for this private breakfast, “My dad had our dogs follow herds so we could spot them in the flock.”
“Dogs can tell which sheep are fakes?”
“Oh, yeah! Dogs can tell by the smell,” Laios taps his nose, “I wonder what the difference is, don’t you? Do they smell more sweet, like dirt? Or do they have no smell at all since their illusions?”
“Maybe a Kobold would be able to tell you? Their anatomy is dog-like, after all.”
“I thought so, too! But there’s not many Kobolds native to the North.”
“Well, hopefully you can find out one day,” then you bite for more monster facts, “I did always wonder what my own shapeshifter could look like. Don’t they read people’s minds to make their copies?”
Laios’ silverware clatters away, tinking loudly on the glass plate, hands flexing hysterically, heart jumping to his tongue, “They do, they take other people’s interpretations of you to confuse your company into keeping it around.”
“How thrilling,” you muse.
“It’s a shame I’ll never get to see or make another one,” he lifts his fork, pushing meat and eggs around his plate glumly, “Would’ve been fun to see what you look like in my memory compared to the real thing.”
“You can tell me now,” your palm bares his shoulder, leaning over your chair and towards his own. Laios’ honey eyes dip, tracing the shape of your lips which makes you lean even closer, “How is it that you see me, Laios? Would I be flattered?”
“I hope so,” he blurts.
Kabru backs away, rattling door hinges before slumping back into the corridor. Rotten thoughts of how lovely you are corroding his brain. You’re so lovely to nip at your betrothed’s interest wholeheartedly, no matter how unconventional.
You’re so lovely it's all consuming.
You’re so lovely he can’t remember when or why, exactly, he fell in love with you.
You’re so lovely he thinks he might have just always been your emotional pin cushion.
There remains to be a single thing Kabru could name that made him fall in love with you.
Kindness is much too bland of a trait. And you wanted the wellbeing of others, but that’s something Kabru expects from people. You are pretty, but that’s no reason to daydream about buying a house together. Perhaps it was a combination of all three that mixed lethally well with how much time you spent together.
That, with how detrimental party romances are to group fallouts, maybe made you more desirable? Could that be it?
You were a new, fascinating person he couldn’t pick apart as soon as he gazed upon you, and you knew exactly how to swerve his expectations. You loved listening to him mutter about the interlocked nature of humans: one man cheating on his wife in Kahka Brud undoing a port in Melini. But you stepped away from interpersonal Island gossip. You could rattle out seven variations of man-eating plants but couldn’t stand to even look upon the vegetation without grimacing.
Approachable with a thin smile and batting lashes, beautiful and quiet. Very quiet. You hardly ask anything of others. It should make you seem ominous or menacing, but no part of him feels endangered by you.
Kabru always felt so comfortable around you that, despite knowing his other party members longer, he found you the easiest to converse with. Before he could realize himself, you’d crawled over so many emotional walls without letting him bypass a single one of your own.
You’re his worst nightmare, he craves you more than oxygen.
Year 513
The tavern door opens with an outrageous squeal. If the mood were different, then you would probably make a humorous remark about the aged hinges. But the mood isn’t different. Things are tense and he just wants to go home now.
Even twinkling stars blink away to avoid giving his humiliation anymore attention. Moonlight rudely oozes over you both, though, reminding him how much he prefers the sun. The moon always seems to follow him when he’s whirled in his worst turmoil.
You step into the tavern first, holding the cranky door open for him. He’d thank you like the upstanding young man his mother raised… if only the mood were different.
Silently, Kabru trails behind you, cheeks blistering hot and palms moist, with his head bent. You two make it back to the table circled by your party, sans Daya due to a more pressing engagement with her fiance. Rin’s perma-scowl cracks briefly into blatant shock at his slouch before schooling herself into re-wrinkling her face. Confusion curling into the folds of her glabella.
“What happened?”
Per usual, you answer for Kabru, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” anger seems to flash briefly over her for a moment, a spasm so minute only Kabru can spot it, “Really?”
He’s not surprised she’s upset about him, shamefully, trying to woo you during a night out with the party. What surprises him is that her anger is solely directed at you.
At least until you nod firmly, “Nothing happened, Rin.”
Then pity laxes her irritation, she spares Kabru a flicker of eye contact before mumbling an ‘okay’. She ends up remaining largely silent for the rest of the night, only extending responses when directly prompted.
What else surprises him is the ease with which you lie. Something happened, just not how he wanted it to play out.
Maybe he didn’t notice because of his drowned mood, but Kabru swears you didn’t exhibit any of your usual tells when you spoke.
(the fact he harps on your physical tells will make him so mad he cries later tonight)
Year 515
“He’s going to burn their ear off, I’m telling you…” Marcille grumbles.
“I think it's cute,” Falin grins.
“Of course, you do,” Marcille sighs, though smiling fondly at the girl while scritching around her plumage. Falin chirps happily and nuzzles into Marcille’s shoulder, “He’s your brother, you never think he’s as weird as he is.”
Kabru speaks boldly, which he knows is unlike himself but he’s so eager to show that he knows you more than them that he cannot stop himself, “They can bond over the monster talk, at least.”
“Are they even into monsters?”
“Kind of?” he backtracks, realizing that he isn’t sure how to answer her question, “They hate monsters, but they know a lot.”
“Good on you for finding someone like that, then,” Marcille shrugs, “They might actually have a good marriage.”
Kabru tenses, even though he shouldn’t (because he knows why you’re here, so he can’t exactly get depressed when other people bring it up), “Yeah. They will.”
“For a while, I thought you’d marry my brother,” Falin says suddenly. Eyes sharp on Kabru’s figure.
Marcille guffaws, “Why would you say that?”
She shrugs before letting her eyes relax to their usual serene state, “They get along well. And Laios likes him. Laios doesn’t usually like people.”
“I guess you have a point,” Marcille waves a figurative flag before gesturing to the room around them, “But we’re not planning their wedding.”
“Yeah…” Falin sighs like she’s the one most disappointed.
Kabru says nothing, only returning to the list of ale and wine suppliers eager to vend for the upcoming royal wedding. His eyes skim names he’s heard various reviews for, but his brain takes none of them in. Rather, he’s fixated on what Falin said.
She could see it?
Could they have gotten married?
If Kabru forgot you completely, or even better never met you, could it be him stepping up to the altar? Would Laios have him?
Laios doesn’t usually like people. but in crowded meetings, it's solely Kabru that Laios searches for. And it’s the sight of Kabru that makes Laios sigh in relief. And it’s the sound of Kabru’s voice that Laios waits for before delivering a response.
At dinner, back when they ate together before you monopolized mealtimes, Laios always ensured Kabru had twice his fill before calling it a night.
(“Even though we’re not fighting in a dungeon anymore, I still think you should retain your strength.”
“You sound like you just like watching me eat.”
“Maybe that, too. You have a nice mouth.”
Kabru never responded to that, too petrified over the implications. Now he thinks he probably should have, maybe it would have meant he’d be marrying a king.)
Falin was right in that Laios doesn’t take to people easily, and he’s sure that’s all she meant. But Kabru knows that her statement is a criminal oversimplification of Laios.
Laios likes people so much he’s gone on potentially endless, potentially fruitless, endeavors for them. Laios likes people so much he makes them harpy eggs because they seem minorly interested in monster cuisine. Laios likes people so much he makes sure they’re treated with the utmost dignity. Laios loves people, and suddenly the thought of you becoming one of those select people is getting harder to grieve.
Laios’ love is not limited, but now Kabru’s forced to come to terms with the fact that Laios’ romantic love for him is--
“So, did you pick yet?” Marcille and Falin are swatching fabrics from the cushy loveseat of the main library, “I’ve heard of a roach outbreak in Smisson’s breweries, so I hope you didn’t get attached.”
Kabru jolts upright and shakes his head, saying the first dumb thing he can think of, “I heard of that, too.”
Falin giggles, “He’s the one that told you about it, Marcille.”
“Huh? You’re kidding!” a furious blush overtakes the elf, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I forgot that!”
Kabru shakes his head again, swallowing roughly, “It’s fine.”
Really, it’s all fine.
Year 513
“Everyone wanted to be here,” Kabru chuckles quietly, as if raising his voice could somehow wake the entire Island.
“I’m sure,” there’s no hint of sarcasm in your voice, “They were with me late last night, so… I didn’t really expect anyone to see me off,” you giggle softly, a hollow sound he doesn’t take very kindly, “I’m surprised you made it.”
“It’s the least I could do after everything you gave the party,” with no decorum he scratches the back of his neck, and avoids looking you in the face, “It’ll be harder in the dungeon without you.”
“I believe in you.”
His breath hitches. He looks at you. A barely-there smile and tired eyes. It may be the most honest he’s seen you. He’s tempted to ask how you meant that ‘you’, but doesn’t.
He doesn’t even speak until you’re boarded -- until he’s forced to raise his voice so you can hear him over a bustling crew and fellow passengers.
“If I send letters, will you read them?” Kabru silences you before you can open your mouth, “Will you respond?”
Then, you’re smiling wider, and your eyes are tight with joy. It isn’t the usual siren cant of droopy lids, it’s pure elation. You’re laughing at his question, shoulders bouncing gleefully. You’re nodding. You speak between chortles, as if he asked you what color the sky was.
“Of course, I will!”
You look more beautiful than he’s ever seen you before.
“Okay, I’ll write you, then.”
“You better!”
Your ship rocks as it sets off from the dock, but you don’t disappear beneath the ridge. In fact, you almost hang over it, torso flattening against wood and nails digging for purchase as you wave.
Kabru waves back. He runs down the dock like a fool, barely catching himself from tumbling into the lapping ocean.
“Bye, Kabru!” you’re still smiling, bathed in soft orange and soothing yellow -- your voice grows distant over crashing waves, “I’ll miss you!”
He keeps waving. He waves and he waves and he doesn’t stop until your ship is behind the horizon. Only then does his hand fall to his side, eyes sopping wet and chest squeezing.
He feels pathetic.
He misses you already.
Year 515
Days prior this morning, the grand hall was cleared out -- pews replaced the needlessly long cherry oak dining table. Flowers plotted in tall carved vases with white lace and silk choking the necks, a velvet track from the altar through open doors to the courtyard. People from across the continents were invented, diplomats to friendly nobles to acquaintances Laios does not remember to true friends to your father and brother and Falin.
(“You don’t want to invite your parents?” Kabru re-evaluates his list of guests, “Seems uncouth, no?”
“What do I care?” Laios’ legs are splayed, thighs pressing against either side of the gold throne, “A wedding is meant to be happy, why would I need people I don’t like there?” he knocks a fist back into Kabru’s chest, letting his knuckles linger over the man’s heart only as long as he can say, “I have you, and my betrothed, and my friends. Really, that’s all I need.”
“It’d be rude to- ”
“I get it,” Laios’ hand falls back onto his armrest, fingertips skimming the rounded metal edge, “This is why I’m leaving it to you, I trust you.”)
Out of all the tedious preparation, dressing Laios was the most tragic in that the king hated everything the handmaids and servants stuffed him in. Countless hours were wasted before they begged Kabru to help, only then did the king settle:
No crown, terminally unsurprising, since Laios abhorred the weight and feel of it on his head. Rather, he would adorn himself with that dreadful Winged Lion’s pelt, and a vermillion cotehardie reaching mid-thigh with gold trim. Leather belt tethered around his waist gave the fabric shape whilst holding up loose britches. Daggered teeth of various beasts lined his neck, which Kabru was privy to each and every complaint over the sensory nightmare they provided. He’s sure as soon as Laios can, he’ll be tearing the necklace off.
Dressing himself, regardless of Laios’ multiple emphatic encouragements, was a similar exercise in disaster:
It felt massively inappropriate to wear something so shiny and attractive as gold on another man’s wedding night, even as Laios insisted Kabru wear whatever he pleased. Still, Kabru chose silver earrings and accents. Sparkling and flattering, yes, but nothing so bold. He did splurge with a sapphire blue kirtie that made his eyes shine brighter, and a simple chain of pearls. He felt attractive, and joyous.
Joyous for tonight. Joyous for a wedding! Yes, simply so ecstatic for tonight’s marriage.
Truthfully, Kabru is so overjoyed for his king, he really could just fucking die.
From joy. And happiness.
Because what makes it even better is how you look happy. Actually happy. No low gaze or siren simper, just pure, carefree merriment as you link hands with Laios. Reciting vows from a flushed, teary-eyed Marcille. Neither of you has that gleam or honeydew sparkle of pure love, but Kabru is good at his job: zero doubt swims in his mind that you two will be a pair truly enamored with each other.
His misery must be unfiltered in the back of the grand hall, far behind the rest of the wedding party, because Rin’s dark eyes are piercing through the side of his skull. She’s frowning up at him, arms folded.
She murmurs, “You should’ve said something.”
Kabru grins at her sardonically, “I should’ve broken up their engagement? You didn’t even like us interacting when they were in our party.”
“That’s- !” her cheeks stain red, an annoyed huff rattling her whole body, “They never told you why they rejected you, right?”
Kabru’s silence is answer enough. It’s also more unsettling to Rin than any dungeon monster she’d encountered.
“They knew that I wanted you,” Rin clears her throat, embarrassment trying to choke her into silence, but she overcomes it for the sake of her friend, “So, out of respect, you were refused and never told why.”
Kabru loves Rin, as a sister. He loves her so much he’d kill for her, because she’s like his sister. He loves her so so so much that he cannot even be mad at her, because part of him always considered her somewhat to blame for your rejection of him.
For an agonizing, silent few seconds, Kabru just stares down at her with those crystalline eyes. Blinking himself from his stupor, Kabru asks the dumbest question he could think of, “Did they want to say yes?”
Rin’s frown deepens, forehead wrinkling, “Is that something you really want to know?”
Laios is a terrible kisser, and out of respect you cover your mouths with a hand as he maps out your lips with eyes clenched. Kabru told him not to close his eyes too early, and naturally Laios did not listen. Thankfully you’re there, hiding Laios’ possible humiliation with one hand and guiding him with your other on his jaw.
“No,” Kabru sighs, “Not really.”
That’s the biggest lie he might’ve ever told Rin.
Still she pats his back sympathetically, even laying her head against his shoulder.
Celebration begins, food laid free for grabbing and wine flowing like water -- especially into Kabru’s gaping maw. It's sour on his tongue, but as far as he’s seen it's him alone that scrunches his face and shakes out his hair at the taste, which only has him feeling crazier.
.
.
.
“Isn’t this foul?” Kabru scoffs, slumped over one of the many strewn tables in the general ballroom, cramped posture making him seem smaller. Ordinarily this is embarrassing. Ordinarily he’s not drunk.
“I don’t notice anything,” Chilchuck swigs from the clear chalice in his hand.
Marcille takes a civilized sip for herself, unspoken concern that their friend’s taste in alcohol is not utmost dependable, “I don’t notice anything either.”
Kabru swirls his wine, staring into the dark spiral and wondering if a bug of some type sensed his grim mood and decided to drown itself and poison his cup.
“I’m going to get a new drink, then,” Kabru rises, bidding the pair well as he guns for the barrels of frothy ale.
People cheer and clack maizers, spilling various toxic cures onto the floor making his shoes stick with loud clicks. Something he doesn’t bother with knowing Laios will seek him out once the stains are discovered.
Laios, Laios, Laios: speaking of.
Kabru’s gaze floats across the party to find his king, who is staring off with hands fidgeting in the drape of his Winged Lion’s pelt as your father speaks. An unfortunate sight, one he’s itching to rectify when a lengthy gown flows into his vision.
Dashing and soft and yours.
Sage fabric glides along the floor, intricately sewn floral trim skittering along the ground. Flowers of lace and yarn decorate the bust and sleeves, even a crown of colorful buds blooms atop your head. Rings of gold link around your fingers. Hair swept away to unveil your face, coiled and braided with, unbelievably, more flowers dancing between the tresses. Faint lavender and tangerine lingers around you in a hypnotizing haze, culling lovestruck head-turns of men and women with your every step.
“Your husband’s alone with your father.”
“They’ll come out alive, or we’ll hear them killing each other,” you pull out a seat at the longest central table and gesture to the chair directly beside you, “Sit. We never got to properly catch up.”
Kabru sees you have wine. He suddenly craves the sour grape flavor (maybe all he was missing was the sensation of licking it off your lips). From what he remembers, Laios was holding wine as well. Kabru considers stretching out to steal a second taste.
Although, sugary enough is the sound of your voice, suddenly his fresh mug of ale is entirely forgotten.
“Kabru?”
You’re so pretty, Kabru could tear his eyes out now and not miss a single greater sight. Especially when you’re -again- bathed in the pouring gold sunlight through grand windows, tranquil beside him at the long table. As if there isn’t a single other spot you prefer, you sit right next to him with a chalice of the worst wine he’s ever had.
“Hey, Kabru…”
His hands shake with the need to hold you. Chest raging with his uncontrollable heartbeat. His head hurts with the knowledge that there really isn’t a place he prefers more than by you (even if he’s forced to drink alcohol so foul it's comparable to sewage).
“Kabru,” your touch startles him, pout and knitted brows capturing his whole attention, “You’re not even listening to me!” you laugh, shaking off his incompetence so easily it makes him want to thank you with a kiss, “Are you drunk?”
“Huh?” he lowers his head into his hands, “Yes,” he lies to you, “Yes, that must be it.”
“Poor thing, I thought you were better at holding your liquor.”
“Your memory is fading…”
“Oh, well, suppose me and the king will have to tuck you in. Make sure you get to bed safely without bumping into anything expensive.”
Kabru gags, pushing himself up from his seat and dashing towards the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach (wine, mead, beer, and beer’s good brother ale).
Tears sting his eyes, snot beginning to leak from his nose as he spits into the toilet bowl. You and the king. The king and you. You and Laios: married. Perfect union. And Kabru did it all to himself. He wanted so desperately to drink himself under the table to forget, and you just had to go reminding him.
You are the worst person he’s ever met, and so is Laios! Your commitment to respect is disgusting, and Laios’ trust in him is an absolute travesty. You two should just hurry up and keel over instead of shoving your romance in Kabru’s face; and if either of you ever thanks him for setting you up then he’ll gut you both that very instant.
Laios and you are terrible, awful, no good devils -- and he wants you both so bad he’s vomiting in the bathroom on your wedding night.
Maybe he can send you both off on a honeymoon? Yes, yes. And while you’re away, he’ll drown in responsibility by day and pretty faces by night. Upon your return, he’ll have forgotten he was ever smitten.
No, who is he kidding? That would be a pointless venture.
You’d be so giddy to tell Kabru allllll about your trip while Laios would show off trinkets he picked up with that charming smile, Kabru would fall right back here. Puking and crying. He should just resign totally. Rot away in bed and die so he never has to see either of you again.
How cowardly.
How unbecoming.
Kabru could kick himself.
Rin was in his position more or less (...less, though, definitely less) and still had the nerve to face him every day for years. She didn’t run away, and she didn’t make her party suffer because of her feelings -- so how could Kabru extend the kingdom’s wellbeing over his? Without him, Laios would socially drown with a village chief’s firstborn as a life preserver.
You’re smart and well-versed in reading others, but you’re not Kabru for God’s sake. You can’t apply half of what you know, not to mention you don’t even care to learn.
Wiping off his mouth and flushing the toilet, Kabru stumbles toward the doorway with a prayer in his pocket to find water soon.
Returning to the chipper scene, Kabru can instantaneously spot Laios flagging him down, with his spare hand curved into the base of your spine.
He dodges you both and retires to bed. Lightheaded and miserable, he’s asleep quickly.
Then, suddenly, he’s not.
.
.
.
He’s outside Laios’ room.
Did his feet carry him here subconsciously? How pathetic…
Kabru is fully prepared to turn back and amble to his room when there’s a sound from the other side of the door. A sharp gasp and whine, then your giggling, and Laios’ voice pleading for you to be nice to him. More murmuring, then a soft moan. A lofty sigh.
Song of a consummation.
Foolishly, Kabru hadn’t thought that your sex life was something he’d have to encounter directly. And despite knowing he should step away, if not out of honor then at least to preserve his own heart, Kabru’s curiosity bolts him to the floor.
He’s never seen Laios fuck.
He’s never seen you fuck, either.
He feels compelled to study -- how does your subdued front mesh with Laios’ eager hands? Which of you takes control? With his bigger size and more powerful title, one would assume Laios, but Kabru bets it's you. Will you make him wait? Would he dive between your thighs with fervor? How will the lip stain your ladies painted you with look slathered across Laios’ pale skin?
Despite knowing what it says about his character, Kabru stays. On some level to get it through to himself that you two are together and off-limits; and on a deeper, truer level because he’s sick in the head.
As was the plan anyway, until a booming, “Hey!” echoes from down the dim hall. A guardsman fast approaching from his patrol route. Kabru’s face is hidden by the dark, figure easily mistaken for a passing servant. But even if the guard could recognize him, would it matter?
What reason does the royal advisor have for lingering outside his king’s chambers so late into the night?
Lies fly through Kabru’s brain as the guard bristles closer, none of them plausible. Finally, the idea of killing this man cycles through his mind, and he reconciles with the fact that must be his only option to avoid an obscenity charge.
“Oh, you came!” a soft hand lands between Kabru’s shoulder blades, voice floating past him and to the guard now two feet away, “Thank you for your faithful service, but don’t concern yourself with him. Our king summoned him,” your laugh soothes Kabru’s tensed muscles, “I wasn’t sure he’d make it because of the hour.”
Kabru stares at you, not bothering to hide his confused, jaw-hanging stare as the guard retreats to his typical patrol.
A thin silk robe drapes over you, loosely tied at the waist and exposing much of your chest.
“I never took you for a pervert, Kabru,” such a mellow voice makes even your scalding accusation sound sweet. You whirr him around by the arm and lug him into yours and Laios’ newly shared room. All proprieties trapped outside but trepidation slithers through, lodging in his gullet.
Laios lays on the bed, exposed completely. Tousled sheets bunched between his hands and under his thighs. Cheeks flushed redder than the head of his cock, hard and slapped against his stomach. Wide spread thighs and heaving chest bountiful eye candy.
“How’d you know it was him?” Laios sounds devastatingly breathless, eyes low and ruby lips swollen.
“Hunch,” you answer plainly, petting down Kabru’s arm until your fingers lace with his.
Kabru murmurs your name, wide eyed. You knew?
Of course, you knew. How could he have thought anything else? Your calm nature about the whole ordeal solidifies that you must’ve known for a long while. Longer than him, even. When would you have figured it out?
“He’s beautiful,” you perch your chin on Kabru’s shoulder, cooing into his ear, “You were always so focused on his face, you’ve never gotten to see anything beneath his clothes, have you?”
Oh, right. The very first day you got here, obviously.
Laios rolls his head from one shoulder to the other, brows pinching in frustration, heated gaze straying from Kabru to you, “He’s going to touch me, right?”
“Depends,” your hands skim up Kabru’s spine, nudging him forward, “Kabru, do you want to touch your king?” one arm glides around his front, fingers toying with the band of his trousers, “And myself?”
“Uhhh…” can he be honest with himself? Can he lay himself bare before not one, but two people? Two people he’s interested in above all else. Heat laps from the barrel of his chest, scorching from cheeks to ears to forehead as sweat beads along his hairline and the back of his neck.
“I asked a question. I need a response.”
Laios’ cock twitches against his abdomen, throat croaking around desire.
“Yes,” Kabru exhales, heavy, barbed, and thorny, cutting him up inside until he’s too weak to stand. Sinking onto the mattress by his knees, “I will.”
Laios’ eyes flick from Kabru’s face down to his weepy erection.
He wants Laios in his mouth. Wants the warmth slapping his tongue, burrowing towards the cinch of his throat. He wants to grope the bulge his king forces through his neck and feel your hands buried in his dark hair. The latter need is fulfilled, your fingers combing through dark curls to push him into your husband’s crotch.
“What a pretty mouth, Kabru, you love to run it,” you climb onto the bed beside him, holding Laios steady by the base, “Try something new, hm?”
“New is- ”
“Try it, Kabru. Now,” regardless of the choppy demand, your voice remains dulcet. Pillowy and fluffy. He could melt into your sound.
His tongue lolls to slather the underside of Laios’ cock with hot saliva, enveloping the man in his mouth. Cheeks hollowing and lashes batting wetly up at the king, crimson deepening on Laios’ face. Behind him, the mattress dips and shakes, Laios’ eyes jumping from baby blues to over Kabru’s back, hips jerking against his chin.
Your hand lifts from inky hair, curls slipping between your fingers in vain attempts to tether you against his skull. Now both your palms run up Laios’ chest as you mold against his side. Your thighs spread around one of his arms and robe nowhere to be found, painted lips smear rouge up Laios’ neck and cheek before you claim his lips.
One of Laios’ hands cradles Kabru’s head, not rudely pushing nor wrangling his hair, just an affectionate reminder of whose cock is in his throat. Meanwhile, the hand between your thighs crooks towards your heat, middle finger ringing your clit -- earning a jump and heave from you.
Laios coaxes Kabru off, winded as he requests, “Can you two kiss? Please?”
Kabru gives the king no time to abjure before he’s spearing you with attention, not that you’re more patient; hurriedly cupping his cheeks and legs spreading to welcome him between. Sat up enough to give Laios a proper view, Kabru fondles your ass as you happily cram your lips to his. He wonders if your lip stain wipes off on him as well. He hopes it does.
“So beautiful,” Laios muses stroking his cock, casually flicking his wrist and thumbing the head, as you reach for Kabru’s.
Kabru’s lips sear down your neck, urged to bite. He does not.
“Soft, right?” Laios lays his head against your shoulder, poking obnoxiously into Kabru’s space (not that he minds), “Still sweet with wine.”
You taste better than the fucking wine.
Does Laios?
Your lips curl, drifting away just to whisper against his lips, “Would you like to kiss the king?”
“Can I?”
Before you can reaffirm, Laios snatches Kabru by the chin to kiss him.
Laios is not sweet like wine, he tastes like beer and salt and iron from a raw lip, and yet Kabru cannot drink him down fast enough.
Hands, big and calloused and sweltering, brand Kabru’s hips -- spinning him around to face the door as you unwork the man’s nightshirt. Tossing the flowy cloth aside, you press a final kiss to Kabru’s lips, before laying out beneath him.
Kabru’s eyes hone on the honeydew slick glossing your slit, hands scrambling for perch on your bracketing thighs as Laios’ settle on his ass. Anticipation builds and flows out of his mouth, rich and thick and in the form of a lashing tongue. Broad and cozy, Kabru sweeps up your cunt, thumbs parting you for the purest taste. Audible sighs fan over your pelvis in time with Laios burying his spit-slick fingers into Kabru’s hole.
A groan vibrates through your hips, Kabru’s electric eyes flashing over the quiver in your thighs as you grind onto his nose. Both hands knotting through his hair.
Fingers prod inside you, curling toward your stomach before scissoring apart just to noisily slurp out leaking wetness.
Burly hands rearrange Kabru again, manhandling him until he’s got his back against Laios’ chest with legs thrown out across the bed. Exhilaration surges through Kabru’s whole body, extremities jittering and whines dribbling down his lips. Slowly, he’s lowered onto Laios’ cock with teeny rasps inspiring you to grab him by the shoulders. Again, sweet lips meet his, but he realizes the ploy quickly: torturous pleasure rips through his gut as you push him back to prime for riding.
Laios’ hand finds your chest, tweaking your nipple while snapping his hips up. Pounding into Kabru’s clenching hole in time that you sink down on the poor man.
Over Kabru’s shoulder, you and Laios swap spit with noisy kisses and if he weren’t sweating ecstasy then maybe he’d find the power to be embarrassed over his desperation to join. Regardless of getting his brains ground into mush by your combined, incessant pistoning, Kabru finds himself giddy to be involved further.
You’re purposeful and elegant; excruciating, tantalizing bounces with nails digging into the meat of Kabru’s chest. As if you could easily tear him apart, only dangling in front of him like a carrot-drawn-horse.
Laios is frantic and overwhelming; hips unrelenting and thick muscled arms belting Kabru against him. Skin clapping skin, moist with sweat, and fat rippling from the impacts of Laios’ fucking. Each thrust into Kabru sends him rocketing further inside you; bulging deep, deep in your squelching cunt.
Contrasting in all ways -- your hands pet and scratch while Laios’ anchor and tug, you moan and mewl while Laios groans and growls. When you’re not kissing your husband you impress downy lips upon Kabru’s chest while Laios tears bruises from his neck with full teeth.
Passion swells each suck and stroke and pap, pap, pap until Kabru’s bursting from the inside out. He keens, body tensing.
“Breathe,” Laios huffs into his ear, voice low and crackling, “Breathe, it feels better when you don’t tighten up.”
Kabru heeds, blowing hot air across your bare chest as he cums, and you coo, “Good boy.”
A slush of your combined juices cascades, soaking and matting Kabru’s pubes. Wetting his and Laios’ balls. Three hard rams and Laios is spilling inside Kabru as well. Pants and gulps echoing around the room.
Reclining against the headboard, Laios slowly pulls your exhausted body off Kabru before slipping his cock out of the man. Each of you is fully aware the hygienic option is to wash yourselves, change the sheets, and maybe even comb through messy heads of hair.
None of you do, though.
Laios, grinning bright and alluring as the sun, has an arm nestled around both you and Kabru to keep you flush against his sides. Your head finds a pillow in your husband’s chest, Kabru copying the motion. Swamped exhales pass between yours and Kabru’s blissed out faces, but only measured breaths pull a serene rise and fall from Laios. Drool even leaks from the corner of Kabru’s mouth, he groans in disgust but can’t manage the strength to wipe it away. Neither can you, exhaustion poisoning you from the knees up.
A careful thumb dabs the spittal away, only to grossly end up smearing it across Kabru’s shoulder when Laios replaces his hand on the man’s bare arm.
“How…” Kabru shudders for breath, “Why…” his eyes flutter drowsily, “Not tired…?”
“I didn’t do much,” Laios reasons (whether he genuinely thinks that or is bluffing, nobody can be sure), voice low as he notices you’re beginning to drift asleep, “Wore yourselves out, though.”
“Still…” Kabru huffs defiantly, yawning against the moist valley between Laios’ pecs, “I… more stamina…”
“Ass,” you drowsily pitch in, eyes closed and lashes stark against your cheeks.
“Ass?” Laios looks down at Kabru.
“Ass,” Kabru yawns again, now capable of slurring full sentences together with his breath sufficiently caught, “First time taking it in the ass. Probably took more out of me than I expected…”
“You should’ve said something,” Laios lours, “Even monsters like Orcs that have sex for pleasure stretch their partners more than I did. It helps prevent tearing. I wish I could’ve seen more mating rituals before getting cursed.”
“You could read more…”
Kabru’s too tired to negate your yawn of a suggestion. He doesn’t need to before Laios mutters again, seconds away from passing out altogether,
“I’ve read about them a lot, I just wanted to see it for myself.”
Year 515. Some days later.
Laios suddenly turns in his throne, angling his body towards Kabru, “You think I can make polyamorous marriage legal?”
“Why?” Kabru’s sure he knows exactly where the king’s head is, he just wants to hear the man say it.
Sticking out his thumb, index, and middle finger, Laios scrunches the digits towards his palm twice, “Aren’t we all getting married?”
“You’ll have to ask your real spouse about that first.”
“I did.”
“Huh?!” that makes Kabru’s heart explode, blood and meat blowing through his orifices. Teasing Laios is easy now that he more clearly understands the man’s motives, but you?
You’re intimidating even after he’s been inside you, he doesn’t know how Laios can so casually ask you something like that (he does though, it’s due to Laios’ many loose screws).
“I already asked about us marrying you.”
“And…?”
“They thought it was a good idea!” Laios shakes off, as if Kabru should have just known you would go along with your husband’s insanity, “So, can I legalize it?”
“Probably,” Kabru settles a hand over his chest, hoping to calm his racing heart (or what remains, anyway), “I’ll look into it.”
“Yay! Thank you!”
~~~
kabru miserablism POV my beloved
beast laios and fae reader and treasure kabru imagery makes me so hard
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guiltyasdave · 1 year ago
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still bejeweled
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: ~4.4k
summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend, your self-esteem is crushed. your best friend takes you to your favorite bar to take your mind off of things. there's a band is playing there tonight and the singer immediately catches your eye. inspired by taylor swift's bejeweled – and when i meet the band, they ask, 'do you have a man?', i could still say, 'i don't remember'
tags/warnings: explicit smut, only 18+, no/pre-outbreak au, no sarah, musician!joel, small age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel's in his mid 30s), alcohol consumption, joel pulls her hair, able-bodied reader, a bit of angst, fluff, making out, fingering, dirty talk (joel talks you through it, i just know it), praise kink, unprotected p in v (i just didn't feel like mentioning it, this is my fantasy world where pregnancies & sti's don't exist, but they very much exist in the real world, don't do this), joel has a big dick (it's canon), consent king joel, rough sex, ass-slapping, hair-pulling, please let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: this came to me while making breakfast and listening to taylor, and didn't want to leave my head again. pretty self indulgent, i'm fairly certain that a musician!joel in my life would fix me. also, to boyfriends everywhere: fuck you <3
• dividers by the lovely @saradika!
• find my full masterlist here!
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You storm out of the apartment, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill over. This is it for good, you tell yourself. It's not the first fight of the sort that you and your boyfriend Max – now ex-boyfriend, you guess – have gotten into, with you usually backing down eventually, to keep the peace between the two of you. You've been together for more than three years, and you had hoped that this might be the one – the guy that you can settle down with, the one that you've been waiting for.
But over the past few months, Max has gotten more distant, less involved in the relationship, less interested in you, making you feel like you're burdening him, like you're always asking for too much. Like you are too much. You had asked several times if something was bothering him, something that you could work through together. Everything's fine babe, I don't know why you're even asking. Stop getting on my nerves with this.
You scoff to yourself. Usually, this was the point where you would step back from the argument, not willing to invest energy in a fight that wouldn't lead to anything anyway. Maybe things weren't perfect with Max, but they were what you knew. Familiar, comfortable. Better than being alone. Maybe not the big love that books and movies told you about, but who knows if that sort of thing even exists.
But today, when he just wouldn't give a shit about anything you said, something inside of you had snapped. “I feel like you don't even love me anymore. Do you?!” you had demanded, and the look on his face had told you everything that you needed to know.
That's how you find yourself on the street in front of your best friend's place, the short walk having somewhat cleared your head. Who does Max even think he is? It's not too much to ask to care about your partner, to show interest in them, to support them, is it? And he hasn't done any of that in quite some time.
All things considered, he just wasn't that great of a boyfriend. Still, you can't help feeling sad about it. Another relationship failed, another guy that just didn't deem you as good enough to pay attention to you. Maybe you're just not that interesting, a voice in your head whispers. You sniffle and shake your head, willing the thought out of your mind.
Your best friend Amanda greets you at her door, immediately clocking your slumped shoulders and reddened eyes, and hugs you tightly while leading you into her living room. Her concern for you elicits another wave of tears and you shakily recap today's events to her. She listens patiently, thankfully not telling you that you're better off without him or something like that, because even though you know that yourself, you don't think you could bear someone else saying it.
“I just can't believe that I'm single again and need to start over once more and I just-,” you bite your lip, willing away the tears that are pooling in your eyes, “I just feel like I'm not enough, like I can't keep a guy or I'm too picky, I don't know. It's just so frustrating, I don't wanna end up alone.”
Amanda's expression softens and she pulls you into her arms again. “You're not gonna end up alone, I promise you. You're funny and smart and,” she looks you up and down, “fucking hot. But you can't settle for less just because you're scared of ending up alone, okay? You're gonna find the guy that's right for you and then it will all make sense. Promise.”
You sigh, not sure if you believe her but also not in the mood to argue. After more talking, during which she eventually slips a glass of wine into your hand, Amanda decides that the two of you should go out tonight. Blow off some steam, show the world and yourself that you've still got it, as she puts it. You're honestly not sure if you've ever had it to begin with, but you let her enthusiasm wash over you, playing along as she insists that you wear one of her skimpiest dresses and starts doing your make up. You feel a little self-conscious with the tiny black dress that she has put you in and the dramatic red lipstick that she's currently applying to your lips.
“Don't look at me like that. You look so good and you'd know that if that fucker hadn't made you feel like you didn't for the past few months. But you've been too good of a girl for far too long now, and we're gonna change that tonight. Deal?” She expectantly holds her hand out for you to shake and you feel the excitement starting to bubble up in you. Maybe she's right and you do need to let go of your insecurities tonight. You shake her hand and she laughs delightedly, causing you to giggle as well.
Amanda finally declares that you're good to go, digging a sparkly handbag that's covered in tiny silvery jewels out of her closet. That one's actually yours, but you had left it at her place a few weeks ago after Max had told you how it was just too much and how you looked ridiculous with it. You had let it slide, thinking that it wasn't worth it to ruin the evening by fighting over a stupid handbag. What was wrong with you, you think to yourself now.
You look at yourself in her full-length mirror and you have to agree, you do look good. The short dress leaves most of your thighs bare, hugging your curves in all the right ways and the lipstick looks amazing, drawing the focus to the shape of your mouth. You do polish up real nice.
Amanda's boyfriend Patricks whistles appreciatively when you both exit from the bedroom and wishes you loads of fun. That's what a boyfriend should be like, you think to yourself. Supportive, loving, and just... kind?
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Amanda drags you to one of your favorite bars. You've been here countless times together; usually it's a good crowd and the drinks are cheap. It's live music night, you realize as you walk in and notice the small stage at the far end of the room, which also explains why it's more crowded than usual. You push through a few people and manage to find two seats at the bar, from where you can watch the stage and hear the music, but it isn't too loud to talk.
The bartender comes up to you and Amanda orders tequila shots before you can even open your mouth. “I would've stuck to wine,” you complain to her and she shrugs, a big grin on her our face.
“That wouldn't be half as fun. We're going all out tonight, remember?”
You roll your eyes and nod, but when you down the first shot and bite down on the lime, you can't help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “That's my girl!” Amanda giggles and promptly orders another round. After two more shots and feeling the tingling warmth that's spreading through your body, you let your eyes wander around the room until they find the stage.
It's mostly local bands that play here, some better than others, and tonight's isn't half bad. It's four guys, a little older than you, mid-thirties if you had to guess, and their music has an acoustic, country-ish vibe to it. Your eyes linger on the man in the front, who is softly singing into the microphone while strumming along on his guitar.
He's kinda hot, you muse to yourself, gaze trained on the way his muscles are softly flexing while he's plucking on the guitar strings with his large hands, the sleeves of his dark t-shirt straining against his arms. His deep voice is washing over you, reminding you of whiskey and honey, and you squint a little to take a closer look at his face. He has a strong jaw and pouty lips, and dark, expressive eyes that gaze into the room while he's singing. You can't explain it, but something about him just feels... warm. Like he's safe. Kind.
He has a scruffy beard and messy curls, giving him a sort of rugged look, that, combined with his incredibly broad shoulders, has you biting your lip subconsciously. How easily he could cage you in, how big and warm his hands would feel on your body...
Damn, he's really hot. And you really feel the tequila talking right now.
Amanda's fingers appear in your field of vision, snapping impatiently and you turn back to her, heat crawling up your cheeks. You might have been staring a bit too obviously. “Which one?” she grins.
“Huh?” you ask, rather poorly feigning innocence.
“Oh, come on! Okay, I'll guess,” she continues on, not giving you a chance to even try to deny anything, “it's the singer, right?”
“I-,” you start, but the look on her face tells you that it's already a lost cause, “yeah.”
She laughs delightedly and gestures to the bartender for another round of shots. “Oh, I don't think-,” you try to object, but she shushes you.
“I won't rest until you've made a move on that guy, good choice dare I say, and live a little. So drink up!” She toasts to you and you can't help laughing yourself before you tip your head back and swallow the burning alcohol in one go.
You steal another glance towards the stage – maybe a rather extended glance in all honesty – and catch the singer's eye. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then he lets his eyes wander around the room, before returning to you, his lips curling into a knowing smirk when you're still looking at him.
You hastily tear yourself away, leaning into Amanda in an attempt of hiding how flustered you're suddenly feeling. “That was fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear.
“I know,” you whisper back urgently. Then the insecurity kicks back in. “Do you think he really meant me? I mean, we're all the way in the back here, I bet he can barely see-”
Amanda swats at your arm, shaking her head. “Please, he totally meant you. You're gonna talk to him later, you hear me?”
You groan, “Oh my god,” and lean into her further. “I'm not cut out for all this, I wouldn't even know what to say.” She tsks at you and orders another round of drinks, not taking No for an answer.
You loosen up a little over time, throwing a few more glances towards the stage and delight in the way he always seems to just wait for you to look at him. When you've made eye contact several times, he winks at you and you can't help but giggle, a kind of warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol. A wide grin stretches across his face as he announces the last song for the night. You give up all pretenses, your eyes basically glued to him until he strums his guitar one last time, then thanks the audience and joins his bandmates as they wander off the stage.
The bands usually pack up, then join the bar's patrons for a few beers. You try not to appear totally desperate and refrain from staring at the door that leads backstage, instead busying yourself with your drink and listening to Amanda, when you feel someone sliding to the bar counter behind you and a hand lands to rest on your shoulder. A very big, very warm hand, you come to notice, before a deep, honeyed voice floats into your ear, causing you to turn around.
“Hi. Can I buy you a drink?”
He seems even bigger up close, and even more handsome, and your lips part slightly, taking him in. You take a beat too long to answer, just sinking into his deep brown eyes, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “I'm Joel, by the way.” He extends a hand for you to shake and you blink, shaking yourself out of your staring, quickly taking his hand and offering your own name.
His hand dwarfs yours, enveloping it in his warmth and you feel yourself blush. This is the moment, you tell yourself. “I'd love a drink,” you smile at him and he flags down the bartender to take your order. You steal a glance at Amanda, who's nodding enthusiastically.
“So...” Joel drawls when you have your drink, still standing so close to you that you're almost touching, with a smirk playing around the corner of his mouth, “do you have a man, or-?”
Your thoughts briefly flicker to Max, but you find that you can barely remember how devastated you felt mere hours ago, that you can hardly recall his face right now. “No... no, I don't.”
“She most certainly does not, she's all yours,” Amanda chimes in, leaning around you and beaming at Joel.
You can't help but giggle at the entire situation, pleasantly buzzing with both the alcohol in your system and the feeling of having Joel in your direct proximity, and finding him more attractive with every minute that you look at him.
“I really liked your performance,” you tell him and his grin widens.
“Yeah? I could tell, sweetheart.” You laugh; the pet name has your heart soaring in your chest, but you feel completely relaxed with him, not awkward, not desperate to please him or keep his interest. You just feel... good. Really, really good.
Talking to him is easy. He makes you laugh, makes you feel comfortable, and your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much, but you can't stop. He's constantly touching you, his hand lingering on your shoulder, your arm, sliding down to your waist, and leaving goosebumps in its wake.
When he pulls at your hips to pull you off your bar stool, you quickly follow his lead, letting him sway you around to the music that's now playing from the juke box, giggling the entire time. You feel like a teenager, but you couldn't care less. You're tipsy, you're happy, the easily most attractive man that you've ever met seems to be more than interested in you – you feel amazing.
Joel's hand comes up to cup your face, his calloused fingertips brushing over your cheek and you lean into his touch. His eyes flick down to your lips and your breath stutters in your chest. Your arms wrap around his neck at the same time that he leans in until his mouth meets yours, your lips eagerly opening against his.
A pleased hum is rumbling up in his chest and both of his hands grab at your hips, pulling your body flush against him as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands burrow into the messy curls at his neck and you all but whimper against his lips. You feel his mouth curl into a smile before he pulls away, the look in his eyes a little dazed, mirroring your own.
“You you wanna come home with me?” he asks quietly, “I live right around the corner.”
There's no need to even think about it, you want this man desperately. You quickly check on Amanda, who waves you off with a shit-eating grin and some rather crude words of encouragement.
You swing your glittery purse over your shoulder and Joel whistles lowly. “That's fancy. I like it.”
Your eyes widen slightly. “You do?”
“Yeah. Suits you.” A wide smile is spreading across your face and, without a second thought, you grab his hand to pull him out of the bar.
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He really lives close nearby and you're stumbling through a dark hallway barely five minutes later. Joel has his hands on your hips and his lips on your mouth, kissing you roughly as he leads you into what you presume is the direction of his bedroom. He kicks the bedroom door shut behind you and crowds you up against the wood, his hands grabbing at your sides, pulling at the dress, revealing more skin to his touch.
The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the street below filtering in through the windows, and his eyes roam over you. “Fuck, you're so hot,” he growls and captures your mouth in another searing kiss, his hand coming up to palm at your breasts, roughly squeezing the flesh and running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric. You mewl into his mouth and he pulls back breathlessly. “You're an eager little thing, aren't you?” he murmurs and you arch your back, trying to press yourself back into his touch.
“Please, Joel,” you whimper and he chuckles before diving back in, his tongue hot in your mouth and his fingers creeping under your dress, toying with the hem of your underwear.
He pulls it aside, his fingers grazing your already soaked folds and you buck your hips into his touch. He slides your dress up higher until his hand comes to rest on your bare hip and he searches your face.
“You're feeling good? You want this?”
You nod eagerly and he tuts softly. “Gotta let me hear it, sweetheart.”
You bite your lip, his respectfulness paired with the dark look in his eyes spurring your arousal on even further. “I want it, please.”
“Good girl, so polite too,” he murmurs and your legs almost buckle underneath you. His hand travels back between your legs, grabbing at your underwear and quickly pulling it off of you, before his fingers are back, sliding through your wetness and circling your clit slowly.
“Fuck, you're dripping. So good for me, all eager and ready, huh?”
The whine that comes out of you sounds faintly like a “yes” and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he thrusts two fingers into you, stretching you deliciously.
“Fucking tight,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice sounding wrecked already. He sets a languid pace, pausing every so often to curl his fingers deep within you, hitting that spongy spot that has your legs shaking and your hands grabbing at his shoulders as high-pitched whines fall out of your mouth.
You can see the pleased smirk on his face as you're falling apart on just his fingers. His other hand travels up to the straps of your dress, pulling them down and revealing your breasts to him.
His lips suck on the newly exposed flesh and you hear him mutter, “so fucking pretty” against your skin. His mouth travels to your nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud, while his fingers keep thrusting and curling inside of you.
Heat is boiling in your abdomen, licking at your spine and you can almost taste your orgasm already. “Joel, I'm gonna- please don't stop, please,” you manage to breathe out.
“You're gonna come on my fingers, pretty girl?” he asks, before sucking your nipple back into his mouth. “Go ahead, let me feel it.” His thumb starts to toy with your clit in quick, precise circles, and you gasp. The heat spreads through your entire body as your orgasm takes hold of you, your toes curling and your legs shaking while you pulse wildly around his fingers.
“Good girl, you look so pretty when you come,” Joel whispers, trailing kisses from your breasts up to your neck as you slowly come down from your high.
Joel maneuvers you to his bed, supporting your weight and gently setting you down until you're sprawled out on the covers. You can still feel the aftershocks from your orgasm, but your want for him is coursing through you like a wildfire and you eagerly stretch your arms out for him.
He chuckles, mumbling something about you being insatiable and quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing golden skin and a body that's obviously strong and muscular, but he still has a softness to him.
You sit back up and scoot closer, your hands flying to his beltbuckle as you press kisses against his belly, reveling in the way his breath hitches and his muscles are twitching under your mouth.
You tilt your head up, silently asking for permission as you tug on his pants and he nods, smiling down at you. You pull his pants and underwear down in one go, desperate to see all of him, and you can't help the soft gasp that escapes your mouth at the sight before you.
He's fucking big, and you should probably worry about fitting all of him inside of you, but instead the fire in your abdomen is flaring up again and you subconsciously press your thighs together.
Joel leans down to you, pulling your already bunched up dress over your head and leaving you just as bare as he is.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he smirks.
“I- yeah,” you nod, shyly smiling up at him and he pecks your lips.
“Me too.”
He crowds you in, his broad body looming over yours as you lay back down on the bed and his fingers find their way in between your legs again. He grazes your clit, then swirls a finger through your wetness, spreading it on your inner thighs, and your hips buck up into his touch, causing him to chuckle.
“Impatient little thing.”
You can barely form a coherent thought, you're desperate to feel his cock inside of you and you eagerly part your legs when he situates his body between them. He grabs at your thigh, spreading you open even wider, before landing a playful slap against the backside. An almost embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and Joel's smirk turns downright feral.
“You liked that, sweetheart? You like it when I'm a little rough with you?”
He's grinding his hips against you, sliding his cock through your wetness, the tip almost catching at your entrance. You're past the point of caring, nodding mindlessly, you just want him inside of you.
“Fuck, yes, please Joel, please.”
“Should've known,” he mumbles, “it's always the quiet ones. Actin' all shy, but you need it bad, don't you? Gonna fuck you so good, take such good care of you, don't you worry.”
You whimper, your breath catching in your throat when he lines his cock up with your center, his tip already parting your walls, but he stops himself again. “Tell me once more, sweetheart. You still good, still want this?”
“Yes Joel, fuck, I want it,” you whine. The words have barely left your mouth when he slams into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your walls fluttering around his length, trying to accommodate him as he's splitting you open. The stretch is intense, bordering on painful, but you still feel yourself getting wetter around him, pain turning into pleasure as he stills inside of you for a few moments to let you adjust.
“Goddamn it, you're tight, you're taking me so good, such a good fuckin' girl.”
His mouth is close to your ear, muttering filth to you with his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin on your neck. Another loud moan falls from your mouth at his words and you clench around his cock that's still buried deep inside of you, causing him to groan.
“Yeah you like that, wanna be a good girl for me, don't you?”
You nod breathlessly and he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back into you, setting a brutal rhythm that's forcing moans from your throat and has you wildly clenching around him. One of his hands is playing with your nipples again, pinching and pulling at your delicate flesh and sending delicious sparks of pleasure straight to your core while he's still fucking you deeply. It's incredible, already easily the best you've ever had, but you still want more, want him deeper.
“Oh my god, p-please Joel,” you stutter.
“Please what?”
“H-harder, please.” He growls at that, pulling himself out of you and flipping you around until you're on your knees, presenting your ass to him. He presses his cock back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs, and his hand connects with the skin on your ass cheek in a harsh slap.
“Knew you were a filthy little thing, fuck, just waitin' around for someone to give it to you hard, huh?” he growls. The way he's talking to you is going straight to your core and you feel a second high approaching rapidly.
His hand tangles in your hair, making a fist and pulling until you're arching your back, slightly changing the angle and letting him hit a spot inside of you that absolutely devastates you. There's stars dancing across your eyes, your thighs are quivering and your walls are pulsing rhythmically.
“Not someone, just- just for you,” you moan out, shuddering around him as another orgasm washes over you, your vision swimming and you're clamping down on him.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel mutters, his hands grabbing your hips roughly and holding onto you with strong hands as he stills his movements and spills himself deep inside of you.
You feel almost delirious as Joel hugs you tightly to his body, kissing you deeply before he gently lays you down on the bed. He cleans you up, gets you a glass of water and covers you with a thick blanket before he slides into bed beside you.
His arm wraps around your middle and he pulls you closer against his chest, engulfing you in his warmth and peppering your bare neck and shoulders with kisses. You nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut as you relax under his soft touches. You can't remember the last time you felt this good. Protected, cared for, happy.
“Sweetheart?” Joel's voice sounds from behind you and you give a little hum. “I know this started out like a one night thing, but-” he pauses, almost sounding a little shy, “promise me that you won't just vanish in the morning, okay?” You smile and crane your head to press your lips against his once more.
“I promise.”
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a/n #2: ...yeah, this would definitely fix me. shout out to the real life amanda for being an amazing friend and the best hype woman, thank you for yelling about pedro with me 24/7. also shout out to the real life patrick for being an amazing boyfriend and providing us with insights about the male sexual experience lol. thank you guys for being the best adoptive parents to my third-wheeling single ass. <3
thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!
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cxncrie-a · 11 months ago
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   Alright, at least he apologized. She'll take that as a start. Ears slowly perking back up now that there wasn't any yelling involved, she sighs. Her tails flick behind her slightly as she tries to figure out how to word this better so he doesn't get extremely defensive again.
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" How about you tell me what started everything and go from there? Start at the beginning up to where we are now, that way I can understand better and help you out however I can. "
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Why'd she have to be right, a bitter thought. Even though he knew it was better that she was right rather than him Shit, why'd he have to open his dumb mouth.
"Sorry, Nimue..." he sighed, brushing his bangs out of his eyes, trying to take a moment to take a calm approach to this, now to try to explain his way out of this, or at least try to find away to make himself seem less guilty after getting so defensive.
What a dumbass move, twice now he's done something so asinine at this rate, maybe he'd be better off just not speaking. " What was your question again?" He just wanted to know where she wanted him to start trying to explain things.
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wildemaven · 1 year ago
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don’t drink the punch | dave york
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-> pairing: dave york x f!reader
-> word count: 3382
-> content warning: 18+ blog; insecurities, jealousy, holiday party antics, mentions of food and alcohol, office gossip, smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasms), there’s no mention of it but reader is on BC, Dave is divorced from Carol, Soft and Sweet Dave, let’s say this is AU and no murdering is happening (or that at least reader is not aware of), reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress with heels and lingerie, otherwise zero descriptive features for reader, I think that’s everything but let me know if I missed anything
-> notes: more soft Dave because he’s been rotting my brain and making me weak lately. This could be the same universe as Caught Kissing Santa, but also can be read as a stand alone piece too.
-> masterlist / holi-dave masterlist
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“I would enjoy these holiday parties a little more if the drinks being served had some actual bite to them. Then I wouldn’t have to give another forced Thank You to my Secret Santa for another gift I’m just going to re-gift to an unsuspecting family member. Did I mention how much I hate these parties?” Cathy shares among the small group of you and a few others, tucked in the corner of this year's CIA Holiday Party. 
You laugh into your fluted glass of sparkling apple juice. Mainly because she’s right. These parties tend to be a little boring, as do most office holiday parties. Lacking any sort of decorum that would indicate there’s an actual party taking place. The lobby has far more holiday cheer than this conference room at the moment. 
Red streamers taped to the wall above the food table and green plastic table runners haphazardly draped over random surfaces help add some festive color to the drab atmosphere. But the tiny plastic tree with misshapen branches bent in different directions placed in the middle of the long table in the center of the room, really ties everything together. Due to budget cuts, there wasn’t much of an allowance for new decorations, according to Cathy. Thankfully, you had convinced Dave to keep leftovers decorations from last year’s party in the supply closet
Once gifts were exchanged, the party felt like it was dragging on longer than it should. Your feeting aching in the too high heels you always decide on, snacking on nearly stale bread and cold artichoke dip, most of the other items already picked over. You patiently wait for the moment everyone else decides it’s time to call it a night and meet up at a local bar to continue the celebration, all while you make your way home to enjoy the rest of the evening with order in pizza and comfy clothes. 
The majority of the party you spend talking with a few friends to pass the time. Catching up on random office gossip, the latest romance rumors that have all departments engrossed in every detail and any other dramatic news that you haven’t heard about. All topics are enough to keep you entertained for the time being. 
“Maybe if York wasn’t so tightly wound and put some actual effort into these things, they would be easier to enjoy.” Sheryl adds to the conversation. “Between us, I might have brought a small flask of vodka to add to the fruit punch— should make things a little more interesting.”
“I’m sure his hands are tied, so you can’t really fault him for not allowing the hard stuff. Plus, are you even allowed to drink on site?” You decide to give your opinion. While you do see where they’re coming from, you can’t really hold it against Dave for not wanting to deal with everyone liquored up. And you’re more than certain there’s a zero tolerance policy for alcohol anywhere in the building, clearly Dave is just following the rules. You’re more than fine enjoying several glasses of the fizzy juice, noting to steer clear of the punch bowl. 
“By the way— did you see the new tie York got? I’m shocked she made him put it on as soon as he opened it— a little awkward to do in front of everyone. I will say, it looks good though, doesn’t it?” Cathy points to where Dave and one of his much younger Agents are still talking on the other side of the room. 
You watch as he holds up the ends of the tie, as if they’re both discussing the color and material of it. He must have said something funny, because she’s laughing now. You no one notices the way you subtly roll your eyes when her hand reaches out to him, holding the side of his forearm as she talks. She must be telling him how hard it was to shop for him, but she just knew he’d love the tie. And how she spent hours searching for the right color— it's black.
She’s cute, whatever her name is. One of the newer recruits you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. She looks to be in her mid to late twenties. A young, confident woman whom you’re definitely not jealous of with all the attention Dave is giving her right now. She’s a good 10 years younger than you if you had to guess. She’s attractive too. Dave seems somewhat oblivious to her slightly flirtatious behavior. Being the nice guy that he is and giving her his undivided attention— makes sense. 
“Don’t you think it looks good?” You realize you’re being asked a question about said tie he’s wearing. 
“Yeah. It looks really good on him.” That’s a lie. It does look good, but you kind of hate that she gave it to him, given how flirty she's being towards him. It’s not anything you would have ever picked for a Secret Santa gift, especially for Dave. The premise of the gift exchange was supposed to be fun, silly gifts. She should have opted for a coffee mug that says, Tears of my Employees, but that’s just your opinion. “Such a great color, too.” That part is the truth, it is a great color on him. 
“Speaking of looking good— that dress on you is killer!” Sheryl shifts the compliments in your direction, catching you off guard and has you feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention. 
“Oh! This? It’s just something I picked up earlier this week. I feel a little overdressed though.” You say all demure like, looking down at the way the black material drapes over your body. The dress feels a bit much compared to everyone else’s business suit attire. The high cut of the slit and the low straight neckline with straps holding it onto your body have you sticking out more than you would like. 
“I’m sure Dave has told you plenty how beautiful you look in it.” Sheryl says confidently. 
“Umm—  no he hasn’t mentioned it. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him much today, actually.” You say meekly, looking back over in the direction of where Dave is. 
When you go to sneak a glance at him, he’s already looking at you, not caring what the cute younger Agent is saying in that moment. His attention fully focused on you. He gives you a wink, raising his half-empty glass— cheers to you from across the room. You mirror the gesture back to him, pairing it with a genuine smile now painted on your face. He turns his attention back to the younger cute Agent, both of them now joined by a pair of Agents from analytics. 
“Well, the night is still young. I’m sure he’ll be giving you all the praise soon enough.” Cathy says, pouring some red punch into her glass.
“Sure.” You smile politely at Cathy and Sheryl. “Umm, if you’ll both excuse me. I need to go use the ladies room.” Deciding you need a minute to yourself. Ditching your glass at the end of the long conference table, you make your way out of the room down the hall. Seeking out a few minutes of quiet to let your mind clear before heading back into the lackluster party. You catch Dave’s profile as you walk by the glass wall of the conference room, paying no mind to anyone outside the little holiday bubble he’s in. 
The echoing of your heels clicking against the tiled floor is the only sound you hear as the bathroom door shuts behind you. You debate whether or not you should give your feet a break from being stuck  in such a high arched position for so long, deciding against it at the thought of walking nearly barefoot in a bathroom. Placing your purse on the porcelain countertop, you take in your reflection in the mirror. Adjusting the straps on your shoulders, then sliding your hands down the front of your body. Admiring and reminding yourself how good you do look in this dress, it’s the main reason you decide to wear it tonight. 
You’re not even sure why you were doubting yourself to begin with. You groan out loud into the unoccupied space for how you were comparing yourself to another woman— a woman you don’t even know. She doesn’t deserve that. Sometimes your insecurities creep in, clouding your mind with lies and false narratives you’ve conjured up. You brush it off. Grabbing your purse, you apologize mentally to yourself as you make your way back out into the hallway. As well as to the young woman who had also been on the receiving end of your near downward spiral. You’ll introduce yourself properly when you get back to the room. 
Someone must have found a speaker. A vibrant Christmas song, you can just barely make out, is coming from the conference room. Most likely another one of Sheryl’s attempts to liven up the crowd. You’d given anything to see the look on Dave’s face right now— he has the worst poker face when he’s annoyed. 
You’re halfway back to the party when you get distracted. An open door to an empty office has you intrigued. The plaque next to the door reads Dave York - Deputy Director NCS. Your fingers tracing over the carved out letters engraved on to the gold metal. 
Laughter pours out of the party filled room at the end of the hall. Your fingers pausing over the last letter of Dave’s name. Glancing back over your shoulder, double checking that you are alone. Shadowy figures are still milling about on the other side of the glass wall. The party far more alive than when you left it. The addition of music was just what it needed. 
You decide you’re in no rush to head back. The open door to Dave’s office practically welcoming you in. 
Wall to wall shelves behind Dave’s desk have some sort of lighting that adds a soft ambient glow to the otherwise dark room. The rest of the walls are adorned with college degrees and various certificates, years and years of hard work and dedication.
You toss your purse to the leather chair that is off to the side as you make your way to the large desk. It’s made of some dark slab of wood, the sleek angles and metal hardware gives it an elaborate modern look. The desk is cool to the touch, your fingertips following the grain of the wood, as you take in the details of Dave’s space. 
There’s a gold frame that catches your eye, twinkling under the dim lighting. You grab it from where it sits next to another photo of Dave’s daughters, Molly and Alice. 
You’re instantly drawn to Dave in the photo. The sheer happiness that’s evident in the smile he’s wearing. A smile that he doesn’t wear often at work or for many outside of it. His dark locks brushed off of his face, in a dressed up polished manner. Face cleanly shaven, allowing his dimple to be on full display. There’s also a brightness in his eyes. You admire the way the photographer was able to capture such a beautiful candid moment. 
“That’s my favorite picture” You turn to see Dave standing in the doorway of his office. Suit jacket discarded somewhere. His hands in his pants pockets. Head tilted ever so slightly as he slowly scans up your body until his eyes meet yours. 
“Hmm… You have to say that, it’s your wedding photo.” You say as a matter of fact. Turning back to his desk, you glance at the framed photo one last time. You finger brushing over the portion of the picture where his handsome face is. 
You’re too focused on the happy couple staring back at you, missing the barely audible sound of his shoes drifting over the carpeted floor as he slides up behind you. You nearly gasp at the sensation of his body pressed up against you, butterflies erupting in your stomach. His touch is captivating, evoking a sense of want, desire blooming immediately. 
Your body doesn’t shy away from the way his hands settle on your hips. Welcoming the way his lips move over your skin, a gentle trail of kisses that lead upwards from the round of shoulder to the small space below your ear. Your stomach tightens. Goosebumps erupting all over. 
“It’s our wedding photo.” A gentle squeeze of your hips as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. He plucks the frame from your grip, setting it back in its designated spot on his desk. 
“Are you trying to seduce me in your place of work, Mr. York?” A playful smile forms on your lips as you turn to face him, rucking the skirt of your dress over your hips as you sit on the edge of the desk, the silky material pooling around your waist. 
The insecurities you had been feeling earlier in the night, long gone, forgotten under his intense gaze. Your hands lay flat over his documents and files as you lean back into a more seductive position, careful to not disturb their tidiness. 
“Fuck, Baby. Looks like you’re the one doing the seducing, Mrs. York?” The new black lace panties and garter set you picked up this week on display for him. His hands glide over the black stockings that stop mid-thigh, his fingers slipping under the garter strap, continuing their upward movement, as he steps into the space between your legs. 
“Is it working?” You purr, knowing full well it is based on the grip he has on the apex of your thighs. A small yelp escapes your throat as he slides your lower half closer to the edge so your flush against him— not missing how hard he is under his black slacks. You carefully allow yourself to lay back fully over the desktop. 
Your hands catch the end of his new tie. Pulling at it tautly, bringing him down so he’s maneuvering his body over yours. One hand resting next to your head as the other guides one of your legs over his hip, encouraging you to wrap them around him. 
“I just got all of these papers in order. Hours of reading and organizing. They’re going to be a mess now.” Dave’s voice is honeyed, holding zero malice in his words. 
“I’m sure you can have one of your cute little Agents clean them up for you.” You tease, which only encourages his own seductive movements. Your eyes flutter shut at the way he ruts himself hard against your aching mound. Open mouth kisses delivered across your cleavage.
“Are you jealous, Mrs. York?” You can feel the way his lips perk into a smile on the top of your breast when he asks. 
“I-I was. She’s very pretty. But I know who you’re going home with at the end of the night.” Your fingers card through his soft locks at the base of his neck, your head tilted back as he soft nips at your jaw. 
“If it makes you feel any better, I think Julie finds you more attractive than she does me. She asked several times who the breathtaking woman in the black dress was.” That was a twist you hadn’t expected. 
“Oh! Did you let her down easily?” Dave’s wandering lips are halted by your question. He pulls back, eyes filled with reverence as he looks down at you. The air between you is charged with an unwavering love for each other. His hand gently cups the side of your face, thumb slowly tracing over your bottom lip. 
“I told her how you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. How you make my life better. And that I don’t know what I did to deserve such a beautiful woman like you.” He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a wonderful father to his two girls and an incredible husband—  falling in love with him was one of the easiest things you’ve ever done. 
“Dave—“ Tears prick at your eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now, let me take you home so I can unwrap you properly.” He tries to lift himself off of you, but you have other plans— more exciting plans. 
Grabbing his face and pulling him back to you, your lips connect with his. Tongues melting into a fiery kiss. No further words needed, as your body does a fine job of conveying exactly what you need from him and you’re grateful he catches on quickly.
His hand slips under the lace material of your panties. Seeking out your pleasure as he alternates between soft deliberate circles over your throbbing clit and working you up with two fingers inside your warm cunt, hitting that delicious spot over and over again, causing you to bite back an explicit moan as you silently tip over the edge. 
Rushed movements blur into the next. Working together to free his hard cock from his boxers and pants. Forgoing the effort it takes to remove your elaborate straps and lace, pulling your underwear to the side is all that’s required before Dave is slowly sinking into you. 
Shared breaths and discreet whimpers fill Dave’s office. Nails biting into exposed skin with each heady thrust Dave delivers. Papers shuffling beneath you as your body tenses, arching into his. Dave senses you’re close, your vise-like grip has him nearing his own release. 
“Dave! —fuckfuckfuck—  Baby, I- I’m going to come!” You're breathless, trying your best to keep your voice low, not wanting to be heard by anyone. 
“I’m right there —shit!— with you, Sweetheart.” 
Your lips connect with Dave’s again as your orgasm surges through you, swallowing each other's moans and triggering Dave to spill inside of you. 
The room is nearly quiet again as Dave’s forehead rests on your chest. His skin is warm against yours.  Your lungs work effectively to help regulate your breathing to a normal state. 
A kiss placed over your heart, then to your lips before he’s slipping out of you. Dave adjusts your underwear back in place as you still lay boneless on his desk, body a tingling mess is bliss. 
“That was a first for us. Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” He smiles down at you as he tucks himself back into his boxers, tucking his dress shirt and refastening his slacks. 
“Hmmm— I’m not opposed to it happening more often— make sure to pencil me in.” You hum softly at him. You reach out for his hand to help you off the desk. His hands instantly catching you and your grip onto his shoulders, your legs a little wobbly when your heels hit the ground. 
Your dress adjusted, Dave’s tie situated, compliments exchanged —You look gorgeous in this dress, This tie was a nice choice, she did a great job picking it out— sweat patted down with a tissue— a valiant attempt to look less conspicuous as you both head back to the party hand in hand. 
You both decide to stay a longer, indulge in a little more of the festivities, you suggest ordering some pizza for everyone. Dave agrees and mentions also needing to call Carol at some point to tell the girls goodnight.  
“You think they will notice we were missing?” Dave asks, his arm wrapping your waist and pulling into his side as you both stop at the door to the conference room. The space is still filled with boisterous laughter as music continues to keep the energy flowing. 
“I doubt it. They’re probably too busy discussing how boring your parties are.” You smirk at him. 
“Boring? Who’s saying they’re boring?” His head whips over to you. You can already see him mentally running through names, his signature scowl now visible, looking back at his fellow agents. 
“That’s for me to know and for you to stress about until the next one. I’m going to go introduce myself to Julie. I’ll see you in a bit.” You kiss his cheek and make your way back inside. You take a few steps before stopping and turning back to him, your dress skirt billowing out around your legs. “Dave, don’t drink the punch.”
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Tear Down My Reason [5]
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Orderly!Blue Jones X NonBinary Afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •
Summary: Blue has a few days off.
Series Masterlist
A/N: Reader is afab and non-binary, and is referred to by the nickname, 'Honey'.
Warnings: overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here, gonna say dubious consent because reader is a patient, soft!Blue, some anxious thoughts, dry humping, p in v sex, cream pie, Blue being a bit possessive, Honey as a pet name, swearing, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.
Word Count: 2062
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Blue was off for three days, which shouldn’t have been so much of an issue for you.
It was scheduled, routine time off that he’d told you about in advance. It wasn’t as if you were wondering where he was and if he was okay.
Not that you cared if he was okay or not. No. No way. Not at all.
But the days had been surprisingly long and boring without him. You missed his presence in the building. Harris, Blue’s second in command, had been left in charge. He was a calm man, with an even voice but he didn’t have the same gravitas that Blue had cultivated. And while patients still went quiet when he came into a room, it was more the other orderlies that were the issue. 
Especially a couple of the new recruits. Russell and Mcconnell in particular are high on your list of people to steer clear of.
Abigail said your name softly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You blink hard. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, shaking your head. 
“You okay?” Abigail's eyebrows are pinched together in worry but you nod. 
“Just thinking.” 
She nods. 
Erna and Meagan give you sympathetic looks, and Lilly had paused speaking. She gave you a soft smile, shifting her chair in the rec room a fraction closer to you. 
“You sure?” Lilly leans forward a little as she speaks.
“Yeah, no,” you rub your eyes, “tired maybe.” 
Lilly hums and strokes your back, “I know the feeling… must be nice though, not having Blue around at the moment? He’s really been riding your back recently.” 
You freeze for a second and she thankfully mistakes your reaction. The more correct turn of phrase was that you had been riding him.
“Hey, it’s okay.” She leans a little loser and you manage to give her a weak smile. 
“Yeah.” You swallow, your mouth dry. 
“He has been better recently.” Megan adds, “he’s not been so,” she gestures with her hands, “extreme.”
Lilly shakes her head, “You don’t know him like we do.” The ‘we’ obviously means you and her. What exactly had happened in solitary? 
“He’s distracted at the moment,” Lilly adds and Meagan nods sadly, before turning back to you, “he’ll get bored and’ll focus on someone else soon, I promise.” She says it so kindly, trying to console you as best she can. 
She doesn’t know that it feels like a blade to the chest. 
.
An air of dispondance hangs over you later than evening when you go to your room for lights out. For once you’re in bed well before the orderlies come to lock the bedroom doors and call for lights out. 
But you don’t sleep. No matter how hard you try. 
The conversation plays over and over in your head like a merry-go-round, getting stuck on specifics before rotating back to the beginning. 
He’ll get bored of you. 
You don’t know him like we do.
You sigh, tensing your muscles, trying to wipe the thoughts out. If you needed to-
Your door clicks, the sound of a jangle and then keys in the lock. 
Nausea twists in your stomach. You don’t freeze, instead you sit bolt upright, your left hand rummaging for the twisted metal bed springs you’d fashioned into a primitive weapon under your mattress, it wouldn’t do much but it was better than nothing.
The door opens and the tension leaves you in one quick sweep. 
Even in the dark, you recognise Blue’s silhouette.
“Blue,” you whisper, unable and unwilling to keep the smile out of your voice. 
He shuts the door quickly, putting his keys in the lock before he comes over and sits on the side of your bed. 
You shift, giving him extra space. 
“Honey, Honey, Honey,” he reaches out, lightly touching your upper arm and then quickly embracing you when you reach for him. He presses his face into your neck and breathes deeply, like he was finally filling his lungs with clean air. 
“I thought you would be sleeping.” He strokes your cheek, kissing you softly and nuzzling your nose against his. 
“Couldn’t sleep.” 
He frowns, still stroking your skin, “Badly?” 
You shake your head. “No, no, just one of those days, well nights.” 
He smiles, “Hmm, I understand, I’ve felt the same.” He gives you another soft kiss that makes your stomach buzz pleasantly. 
“How were your days off? I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning?” You stroke his waist, shuffling a little so you can get closer to him. 
“Awful. Missed you so bad Honey. Hated it.” He moans softly, leaning into your touch eagerly. “Thought I was gonna lose it, so I came back now.”
You slide your hand up and around his shoulders as you trail sloppy kisses along his jaw, his breathing hitches as he groans and quickly tugs off his shoes before he clambers fully onto the bed. 
“Thought you were gonna be sleeping.” He repeats, almost lightheaded with how you're touching him. Need burns along his veins, makes him dizzy. “Was just gonna look in on you, just wanted to see your pretty face.” 
You mouth at his neck, scraping your teeth over his pulse point in a way you know drives him wild.
He groans immediately, grabbing at your hips, “Honey, oh shit.” He breathes heavily in your ear, pulling you into his lap. “Gonna get me all worked up.” He bites his lip, trying to keep some semblance of control over himself. 
“Good.” 
“Ugh,” he slips his hands under your pyjama top, just skimming the tips of his fingers over your warm skin. “You’re addictive, you know that. They need to put a warning in your notes,” he presses his left hand against the small of your back, pushing you so that your core rocks against him. “Hmmm,” he moans into your mouth when you kiss him, parting his lips eagerly and letting your tongue slip inside. 
You shiver, the heat of his hand spreading up your back as you grind against him, rubbing your aching clit all over his rapidly hardening cock. 
“Missed you.” You mutter and he whimpers.
“Missed you, Honey, missed you so fucking much.” He tugs at your clothes. “Come, let’s get these off, yeah?” He asks sweetly, smiling when you nod. 
You disentangle from each other just long enough for you both to strip. Blue yanks off his lab coat, t-shirt and sweats, chucking them on the floor and then sitting back against your headboard. 
His hands are all over you before you’re even finished undressing. He pulls you softly back into his lap, positioning your legs so that they’re wrapped around his waist. He grins up at you, his eyes bright as his bare skin is finally against yours. 
“Hmmm, much better Honey, much better.” He leans forward, sucking a love bite into the base of your neck and soothing the sting quickly with his tongue. 
He lets out a little shuddered breath as you start to move again, slowly rocking against his warm, velvety length. 
You shiver, wrapping your arms around him as pleasure starts to build in your belly and makes you desperate.
“God,” he swallows thickly, “love watching you,” he kisses your chin, lips, cheek, alternating between having to gaze upon your face and needing his mouth touching your skin. He whines low in his throat, whimpering with every gentle rock and glide of your hips. 
“Do you think you can come like this?” He asks softly, his voice strained. 
You nod, your fingers digging in and you move faster as you lift yourself up and down, dragging your bundle of nerves over him again and again. 
“Please,” he moans, so caught up in the sensations of your folds sliding against his cock, every drag and long drawn out movement sending him reeling into bliss. “P-please, want to watch you come, want you to feel good.”
His words go straight to your core, the desperate love sick glaze to his eyes, the way he tugs at your waist, moving with you wantonly is all too much, and it’s all too easy to let yourself just sink under his spell. 
You whine, breathing hard as you squeeze his biceps and shoulders, so close you can taste it. 
“Couldn't even come without you the last few days,” he pants, “wouldn’t work, just wanted to feel you and taste you and-” He groans low as you tense, your breath leaving you in a gasp. 
Pleasure explodes along your nerves, flooding your mind as you shake in his arms and claw at his back. 
“Oh god, yes.” He moans louder than you do, holding your chin and neck in his hands so he can watch your face intently. He keeps moving, rocking his hips to prolong your pleasure as he bites his lip to force down his own orgasm. 
He litters your face with kisses as you relax, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “Look so beautiful, Honey.” He whispers and hugs you tightly.
You breathe hard but then pull back a fraction. 
Blue frowns, a worried look flashing across his face until you rise up and take his cock in hand. A deep groan overtakes him as you line him up with your soaking core and sink down onto his thick length. 
“Honey, Honey, Honey,” he repeats, gasping as you move slowly at first, easing up and down gently. “I’m, I’m sorry,” he chokes, “I’m gonna, I can’t, I’m gonna come.” He bites his lip hard, trying to focus on anything else. 
“Shhh,” you press your thumb against his mouth, easing his lip free from his teeth and kissing him sweetly, tasting the desperation on his tongue. “Be good and come for me.” 
He whines, grabbing hold of your waist and pushing you down flush against him. He rocks twice, his eyes screwed up tight, mouth open as he empties himself into you with a long sigh. Relief flooding his veins like an addict finally getting a hit. 
He buried his face into your chest, kissing your breasts and muttering thank yous. 
Softly, you stroke his hair, it’s getting a little longer, starting to grow out of his short cut. 
“You don’t need to thank me.” You whisper. 
“Yes, yes I do.” He mumbles into you. “Need to thank you every second of the day.” 
You giggle, your heart so light and airy you feel like you could float. “You’re so silly.” 
He snorts, looking up at you and smiling. “Loving you isn’t silly, Honey.” He gazes at you for a long moment, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. “I have something for you.”
You incline your head, “Something for me?” 
“Hmm,” he grins cheekily, “something that isn’t my cock.” 
You tut but you’re laughing. “I already have that anyway,” you squeeze your walls around him and he groans. 
“Hell yeah, you do.” He squeezes you tightly before he bends to the side at the most awkward angle, but doing it so that he doesn’t have to take his softening cock out of you just yet. 
He fishes around in his lab coat pockets for a moment while you laugh.
“Ah, ha!” He sits up dramatically, relishing your attention. “Here.” 
He hands you a small soft toy bear that is a little larger than your hand. It’s soft, it’s fur a warm baby blue. 
You stare at it for a moment, an alien emotion settling in your bones. 
“Do you…” he swallows, gazing up at you nervously, “if you don’t like it, you don’t have-”
You snatch it from his hand a little dramatically and he smiles shyly, warmth breaking into his chest. 
“I love it.” You smile, you want to cry. It doesn’t make sense. You can’t remember the last time someone gave you a gift.
“I saw it yesterday, I was out shopping and I saw him and…” A little blush colours his cheeks that isn’t from the exertion of your lovemaking. “Bears like honey right? And he’s blue.” 
You take his chin in your left hand and cradle the bear to your chest with your right as you pull him into a deep, long kiss that leaves him breathless and lightheaded. 
“I love him, Blue, thank you.” 
He grins, hugging you tightly like you’re the only thing he cares about in the word. “I’m glad Honey.” 
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saphiraarts · 7 months ago
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Chapter 4: Meeting the Doctor
Danny had been fighting ghosts for a few months now but it was wearing on his body and it had been rough. He had been missing school due to pain and wounds and his parents had shown concern about his health. Medical supplies were missing and Maddy was scared of Danny hurting himself. Jack wondered if he was getting into fights outside of school. Danny was terrified of going to the doctor and resisted his parents and sister. Refusing to go to the doctor and so the last line of defense was called: Vlad Masters. Maddy and Jack were concerned and Vlad climbed out of his car walking to the door knocking. Maddy opened the door glad Vlad came.
“I am so sorry for such short notice,” Maddy said and she looked genuinely worried.
“No no not at all,” Vlad said as he walked inside and Maddy shut the door.
“I just worry and it hurts that he doesn't want to talk to me,” Maddy said, frowning.
“He is just being a teenager, Maddy,” Jack told her.
“I know Jack but this isn’t like him!” Maddy said firmly.
“I will resolve things,” Vlad reassured and he walked up the stairs to Head to Daniel’s room.
He walked to his door and knocked and said, “Daniel? Can I come in?”
The door opened and Danny was holding his side wincing as he looked up to Vlad and he looked miserable. Vlad walked in and shut the door behind him as Danny limped over to his bed and sat down. He was in his ghost form as the pain wasn’t as severe in his human form.
“I thought they would call you,” Danny said as he laid down on his bed.
Vlad turned into his ghost form, “Alright come on.”
“What?” Danny asked.
“I am taking you to a ghost doctor who is my personal doctor. I go to him when I get severe injuries I can’t treat myself,” Vlad said firmly.
“Wait, we are just going right now?” Danny asked, alarmed.
“Daniel, you are missing school and your parents are incredibly worried. You are ignoring them and your sister allowing your friends to come see you over your family,” Vlad pointed out which made Danny pause and look down.
He didn’t like doing it but he was terrified. Scared of them finding out and what they would do. He barely slept due to his own guilt and it showed due to the bags under his eyes. Danny floated up and Vlad was glad Danny realized on his own and he flew up through the ceiling and Danny followed both turning intangible. Vlad led Daniel to a clinic and he landed in the back alley as he normally did and knocked. Danny remained floating, putting any weight on his body caused aches and pain to shoot up throughout his whole body. The bright green ghost blood stained the bandages he used to treat himself. A chill crawled up his spine and released and he winced letting out a groan. Vlad looked at him and frowned but thankfully the door opened. The man at the door looked human with shaggy dark hair covering an eye and he was slightly hunched over. He had stubble and wore a white coat over a dress shirt and dress pants.
“Vlad? Who is this?” He asked before he saw the state he was in and motioned them inside.
“Daniel, he is like me,” Vlad said.
The pair walked in through the clinic and were led to a room, “You can call me Ghost Doctor if you want or use any name it doesn’t matter.” He explained and he motioned for Danny to lay down.
“So you don’t want to hurt me?” Danny asked, a bit weary staying close to the door.
“He has only fought ghosts with ill intent,” Vlad clarified.
“I treat anyone and I don’t hurt anyone unless they hurt my patients,” The Ghost Doctor said gently. “I won’t hurt you.” He promised.
“He is trustworthy,” Vlad reassured and Danny flew over and laid down and winced feeling the weight come back.
The Ghost Doctor got to work on treating his injuries and Vlad waited outside changing back to his human form and he texted Maddy.
To Maddy:
I managed to convince Daniel to go to a doctor. We are at his office now. He has injuries from fights. I am not sure the cause but it could be due to bullies.
To Vlad:
What?! I will talk to his principal immediately. Thank you Vlad for convincing him to go get treated. I just wish I knew why he didn’t come to us…
To Maddy:
That is a conversation you must have with him. I don’t know the full reasons why he has been tight lipped even to me. But perhaps don't mention your intentions of dismemberment of spirits quite so often or tearing them apart? Such violent turns of phrases could leave the wrong impression.
To Vlad:
We would never hurt him in a million years! I don’t see why it would be a problem. Although I don’t even remember hearing you leave. We were in the kitchen.
To Maddy:
It was just a first thought. Something to consider. Danny insisted we be as quiet as possible.
Vlad sighed hating to lie to Maddy but he knew he had to talk to Jack and so he shot him the same message that Danny was at the doctor and it had been caused by fights.
To V-man:
I’ll teach that boy how to defend himself! Don’t tell Maddy
To Jack:
So I do not join you in a shallow grave. I have to not condone this idea.
To V-man:
Ugh I hate when you are right. I’ll talk to Danny about how to deal with it.
To Jack:
Not everyone is built like a bear. Need I remind you when you tried to teach me self defense and cracked my ribs?
To V-man:
Haha! Yeah sorry about that. But I will talk to Danny about how to try to diffuse his bullies without resorting to a talk via fists.
To Jack:
Good. I have to go. The doctor is calling me in.
This was true. The Ghost Doctor had opened the door and motioned for Vlad to come in and he saw Danny in his human form. He looked a lot better and was properly bandaged or had glowing green stitches on the major wounds.
“I prescribed some medication from the Ghost Zone that will help with the pain and to speed up his healing. He needs to consider having some ectoplasm in his diet to help give him the full nutrients he needs for his ghost half,” Ghost Doctor explained.
“I gotta eat what now?” Danny asked.
“It’s like I am back in time,” Ghost Doctor said laughing. “You reacted the same way when I told you that.” He had turned his gaze to Vlad with a smile.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Danny asked his godfather.
“I didn’t know how to explain it and didn’t want to overwhelm you! I have been giving you it when I can but your friends being around made that difficult,” Vlad said sighing. “I wanted to talk to you about half ghost anatomy one on one.”
Danny was going to say Vlad didn’t trust his friends but then he heard the term anatomy and stopped. He remembered health class and Tucker making it impossible to get through “the talk” to where he didn’t hear not even half the lecture on puberty and sex. He shut his mouth and just sighed.
“Prolly a good call Tucker would have made it impossible,” Danny said. He knew Tucker used jokes and humor to avoid uncomfortable topics by drowning it out.
“Well that is why I am here,” Ghost Doctor said and he had a warm smile seeing this banter having missed a more fatherly son interaction. It warmed his dead heart and he cleared his throat. “Well think of needing ectoplasmic foods like humans needing food to fuel their bodies. Unlike humans it is only after using their powers do they need to eat. I am sure you have felt intense cravings for foods you cannot describe and have been tempted to eat perhaps not the best materials.” He explained.
Danny looked away having eaten ectoplasm that his parents were using for their research and he just gave a nod as it now made so much sense. He had tried to restrain it but in the more rougher fights he just couldn’t take it sneaking down at night.
“I have felt the intense desire to uh… eat the ectoplasm my parents use in their research,” Danny admitted. “And have.”
Ghost Doctor wrote down something drawing a map and writing instructions and he held it to Danny, “Vlad can take you to this region of the Ghost Zone. It will give you healthy food.”
“A different market than where you send me,” Vlad noted.
“This one is less hostile and was established more recently by a couple of ghosts seeking to provide a safe source of food for ghosts,” Ghost Doctor said.
Danny took it and he was glad neither insulted him and he knew his friends would have and he didn’t know why this felt so personal. He supposed he believed they wouldn’t understand as they didn’t fully understand how much of a freak being half ghost made him. The urges, instincts, and everything else being half dead entailed.
“I was there Daniel. I did the same thing before I met Ghost Doctor or when I wasn’t able to reach the marketplace,” Vlad explained and Danny was utterly shocked. Vlad placed a hand on his shoulder.
Danny was just happy someone understood him and Ghost Doctor cooked in the kitchen at the back of his clinic making a balanced meal for Danny with a balance of ingredients from the ghost zone. Vlad sat with him and gave him a smile and the two half ghosts and ghost ate dinner together. The two half ghosts returned home and Vlad walked Danny to the door and opened it with his key.
“Danny!” Maddy and Jack called and both wrapped their arms around him. Danny let out a yelp but hugged both of his parents. Vlad smiled glad that Danny was coming to take care of his health and he would be sure to go to that new marketplace Ghost Doctor suggested. Danny would have to come over a lot more often especially since Vlad planned to teach him how to cook.
Well i kinda lied when i said I was done. Turns out! I am not! Wooo thank you brain for inspo! This chapter introduces the first friendly ghost Danny would have met. The Ghost Doctor. He doesn't bother with his name from when he was alive anymore. He is simply a doctor of the living and dead. He doesn't care for the rivalries of other ghosts unless it affects an active patient in his care. He is incredibly dangerous able to manipulate deadly poisons and produce them. He uses his knowledge to make medicine and help others. He acts as Vlad's personal doctor and can be a bit sentimental and dry. He is an oc I came up with. I felt like he needed someone like this in the show
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canyouhearthelight · 5 months ago
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Nihilus Rex, Ch. 34: Out Tonight
So. Before anyone comes after me, Lash's outfit - specifically the shimmery top - is insipred by a hijabi creator on Tiktok. She very literally styled a similar top, basically as jewelry. Hence why Fatima has it.
Beta read by the ever patient @baelpenrose
Let's go out tonight
I have to go out tonight
You wanna prowl, be my night owl
Well, take my hand, we're gonna howl out tonight
Rent, “Out Tonight”
Lash
“Hoo boy,” I muttered, looking at my reflection in the mirror.  Mama had basically given me the boots with a wink, much to my horror.  In lieu of a skirt that I felt confident would stay put, I’d managed to thrift an incredibly soft pair of skinny jeans that had likely been black originally but had faded to charcoal gray.  A bottle of bleach and some cotton swabs later, and I had created a pattern that fell halfway between glyphs and circuitry. It was the top that Fatima had loaned me that had me hesitating.  I had failed utterly to consider that Fatima was a lifelong hijabi, and therefore any tops she owned were basically accessories that went over her more modest layers - a minimum of two layers, possibly three.  I had just seen a sliver metallic slip of fabric and decided it was perfect.
It covered basically nothing.
I had managed to put a black bathing suit top underneath it, which combined with a few very long necklaces at least covered something.  But I would definitely need a very thick jacket to get out of the neighborhood with my dignity intact.
And probably keep the jacket on until we get to campus, I decided as I pinned a silver chain over my hair to keep it somewhat contained. At least almost no one from class is likely to recognize me.  I grabbed my flat iron to fix one stubborn piece of hair, finishing just as my phone chirped.
“Punctual bastard,” I muttered, grinning.  Spinning my jacket over my shoulders, I zipped it to my chin as I raced to the door. “Mama! Baba! Nils is here, so we’re heading out.  I should be home before midnight!”  Without waiting for a response, I shut the door behind me only to realize I had nearly walked straight into my date.
“Hi.”
Nils blinked at me several times rapidly, opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “Hi.” He was dressed in his jacket, but beneath it was a solid V-neck that I was almost certain he’d tailored to his lean body, with leather bracelets on his wrists traced with intricate designs. Tailored slacks, and heavy boots of his more usual style. “Excited for tonight?” 
I nodded breathlessly. “And hoping the weather holds out.  The jacket isn’t the plan, but what’s underneath won’t hold up if the temps drop more than about ten degrees.”  I looked at my feet and hoped he couldn’t see my face darken in embarrassment.
“Now I’m even more excited. Come on, we have a party to get to.” He offered me his arm.
“As long as we’ve got a ride there.  These boots were decidedly not made for walking.”
“I’m driving, Lash. And limiting the drinking correspondingly.” 
I nodded again, relaxing. “Thank you. Fatima has to get up early to take the girls’ to school, so I really do need to be home by midnight.  Tomorrow is Baba’s first day back at work, and I want to be there in the morning to see him off.”  I glanced up out of the corner of my eye, but thankfully Nils just nodded.  He opened the passenger door, and all gentleman-like handed me into the slick silver car.  Mrs. Katherine would be proud, I had to admit.
True to form, on the other side of our ten-minute drive, he helped me back out of the car and triple checked that it was locked before we made our way to the humanities building.  “Public debut?” I murmured. “As a couple, or as Nihilus Rex and the Phoenix Queen?”
“Officially, as a couple,” he murmured back. “To those who can figure out the connection from where we were at the hospital, to everything else about how we play, it will also announce us as the latter. And allow us to make our play using Weasel as a patsy without losing the credibility of him having done our spectacular work for us. We are, after all, too hot to be incels.” 
“In that case, I am so glad for what I’m about to do.”  The hesitation I’d felt looking at my reflection melted away the second I realized that I wasn’t exposed, I was armed.  Nils gripped my hand tight and shook it, trying to get my attention, but I knew if I looked at him there was a chance something would falter.  Instead, I strode confidently to the edge of the crowd outside the humanities building and unzipped my jacket.  Shrugging it off, I handed it to Nils, finally looking up at his face.
I couldn’t tell if he was seeing God or Satan, but he was very much having a religious experience, from what his expression gave away. A suspicion he confirmed by murmuring, reverently, “Oh God, let me give you my life…”
“Like you said, you can’t be an incel if you have something this hot,” I sighed, still somewhat nervous.  Shaking out my hair in hopes the sweat on my neck would dry, I steeled myself. “Let’s go be visible.”  I started to walk, only to be held back by his hand.  Looking back at him, he had a very confusing expression on his face. I shook his hand firmly. “Nils.  Come on. This was your idea.”
Nils shook his head, then followed me. “Right, our public debut.” He walked into the party, each of us on each other’s arms, and waved at people as we swept into the courtyard, music pumping and music playing. We were definitely visible enough to have pictures taken, and Nils waved, the easy charisma he’d played up during our TV appearance making an appearance. “You’re amazing, Lash. Food first, drinks, or dancing?” 
“Food… I was honestly too nervous earlier today to eat anything,” I admitted.  “So drinks are going to be a terrible idea until I find some meatballs or - OOO!  Sliders! Even better.”  Nils sounded like he was choking down what I hoped was a laugh as I skipped toward a platter of turkey sliders.  With zero hesitation, I made two plates, complete with spicy mustard. I managed one bite before spinning back to him. “It’s smoked turkey, you have to try these.”
I already had the one I had bitten up to his mouth before he smirked, taking a bite out of my hand and offering me one in turn. “Awesome.” 
I blushed when I realized that I had broken the cool-calm-collected illusion, but realized almost as quickly that the best way to sell us being a couple was to… be a couple. It just looked natural, because it was.  “There’s ham, too, if you want any,” I forced out, trying to keep going. “You know how I am about pork, but I bet it’s just as good as the turkey.” 
“I’ll hold off for now.” His smile was quiet, but he put together another slider. “Oh, I think I see a fruit plate - and a whole platter of fried veggies. Interested?” 
The glance I gave him was half a scowl at best. “You know I’m a slut for fried veggies. Lead on.”
The sound he made was somewhere between a laugh, a growl, and a choking sound as though he’d tried to prevent both from escaping. “Eyeah, I do know this.” 
Doing my best to ignore the feral sounds he was creating, I followed him and reminded myself the best way to seem familiar is to be familiar. As he scooped veggies on my plate, I noticed something about the designs on his cuffs and realized they had to be custom ordered. A chess king and a phoenix, on one, and on the other, entangled iconography from my cultures and from the religion he’d grown up in. A Cross, bound in Samsara, which also entangled two Crescents. Nandi with a laurel crown…
He set the plate in my hands. “Hopefully it’s fried the way you like it.” One hand, just barely trembling, brought a piece to my lips.
I stared in his eyes, taking a bite.  Unfortunately, I completely ruined the effect I was going for by immediately closing my eyes and throwing my head back. “Pakoras!  Someone brought pakoras, they’re soooo good.”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Nils started laughing. “Gotta love the anthro department, right? For culinary reasons if nothing else.” He snatched one off the plate. “May I?” 
“It would probably be cleaner than if I shove them in your face, yeah,” I admitted. “The really skinny ones are okra, just a heads up - as in a warning to save me some.”  The more I thought of this as just a normal interaction, the easier it became.  And there was honestly nothing here to fake, either than my confidence at being half naked from the waist up.  As long as the weather held out, I could forget about that.
Nils was looking around, eyes lingering on me every so often - and for a while every time they fell on me. “Good food, music is…Oh, this song is great. After we’ve eaten, want to try dancing?” 
“Let’s sit while we finish eating,” I suggested. “Heels, long periods on feet, not a great combination.  I’ll find a table if you’ll get some water?” Water sounded safe at the moment.
“Absolutely.” He drifted off to the drinks table. 
Glancing around, I found a table that looked abandoned and, after topping up some snacky foods, went to claim it.  Since the water was bottled, Nils was right behind me by the time I sat down.  “I would take the boots off for a second, but then I won’t be able to get them back on,” I admitted while rubbing my feet the best I could through them.  “I really need something flatter in the future. Marvel be damned, heels just are not practical.”  I took the proffered bottle and swapped it for a plate.  “I found meatballs.”
Nils took my information about heels with easy neutrality. “Fair enough. At some point we can absolutely take you shopping for formal shoes that are more comfortable.” He took the plate. “Oh my god I love you.” He stabbed one with a fork, and looked at me. “You going to be okay?” 
“I’ll be fine,” I promised around a bite of the same. “I’m just glad that I need to be home before midnight… The reality is that I’m not even worried about dancing barefoot, I’m worried that the boots will be stolen. Do you have any idea how much these would cost to replace?  Almost two grand.” I didn’t even let him hazard a guess, despite knowing he probably would have known.
“Lock them in the car if you need to?” He said, eyebrows cocked slightly. “I trust your judgment but if you’re hurting yourself out of fear of something getting stolen, we do have alternatives.” 
“Let’s get through this one night and try to somehow look cool and sexy and not nerdy-cute, and I promise I’ll never wear them again.  I can probably get some knee high combat boots if I knock out five more commissions.” I saw him open his mouth to say something and gestured threateningly with a meatball fork. “No. You are not buying them for me.”
“I tried,” he grumbled.
“You did,” I relented, finishing my plate.  “Okay, once you’re done, let’s go mingle and try to be bleeding edge cool, maybe dance if that won’t ruin the illusion.”
Nils threw back a bit of water and chomped down a few more sliders. “Alright. Game on?” He extended his hand to me. 
Trying to sell the upcoming illusion, I rested my fingers daintily in his hand. “From here on out, all conversation is tech, art, and finance.  Bleeding edge, keep that in mind. Networking.”
“Right. More to make our other personalities credible to those paying attention. Little hints about our politics for those listening.” He gently pulled me to my feet, and we walked over to the space where I could see at least a few people we knew from classes. 
“Time for the King and Queen to meet their investors.”
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djfics · 1 month ago
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Behind these Violet Eyes: Christmas Special
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Chapter 2: The Unforgiven
Summary: Aphelios, Akali, and Ezreal decide to visit Yone's brother Yasuo at The Wind Bar Ramen and ask about the people who are not connected with corporations.
WC: 1,670
New Character: Yasuo
Characters Mentioned: Jayce, Viktor, LeBlanc, Lyssandra, Vex, Kalista, Hecarim, Yoric, Karthus, Elise
Song: Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano
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December 24, 9:58 P.M. - Central Plaza
"THERE WAS NO HEAD TRAUMA!?" Akali and Aphelios nodded while they're on the phone with Ekko, Yone, and Jinx.
"Wow, Phel, maybe your head is like a helmet or something," Jinx said while he rolled his blue eyes on her. "How are you guys doing?" Ezreal asked them.
"You know... I'm with Powder, Vi and Caitlyn celebrating Christmas Eve, and they brought Jayce, and his boyfriend Viktor"
"They're gonna third wheel us," Jinx sighed while Ekko laughed at her. "Speaking of couples, while K'Sante and I were in the supermarket, we saw Sett's m-" Aphelios grabs Ezreal's phone and hungs off.
"What the f*ck Phel!?" Ezreal yelled at Aphelios, but he ignored him. "I know Sett betrayed you, Phel, but you can't hold a g-" Aphelios glares at Akali and Ezreal, and they decided not to talk about Sett. Ezreal picked his phone, and thankfully, there were no scratches on his phone, and he heard a message notification.
Chat:
Jinx: WTF DID YOU HUNG OFF YOUR PHONE EZREAL!? 💢
Ezreal: It was Phel. He heard about Sett, and he got mad
Yone: I shouldn't say that, my bad
Ekko: Anyway, let's talk when the holidays are over
Ezreal: Agree. Kali, Phel and I arrived at The Wind Bar Ramen
Yone: Okay, please don't let him give you alcohol
Ezreal: Relax Yone, Phel and I are adults now 😁
Yone: You're 17 years old, Ezreal!! Phel turned 18 years old this month!! And you and Jinx made fake IDs to buy alcohol during spring break!!
Ezreal: Oh.....my bad......He he he he 😅
Yone: Ughhhh..... 😮‍💨
-
Ezreal put his phone away and follows Akali and Aphelios as they arrived at The Wind Bar Ramen and saw a man with brown hair and is styled in a crazy ponytail, a santa hat, brown eyes, a scar in his nose, beard and he wears a Christmas ugly sweater, grey sweatpants and deer slippers that the red nose lights up.
"That's Yasuo?" Ezreal asks but they ignored them and knock the door, until Yasuo opens the door. "Can I help you?"
"Are you Yasuo?"
"Yeah? Why?"
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"Enjoy" Aphelios, Ezreal and Akali are enjoying the ramen that Yasuo prepared for them.
"Soooooo Goooooood!!!!"
"I KNOW, RIGHT!!"
"Are they okay?" Yasuo ask Aphelios and he shrugged. "Anyway, I heard that my brother send you to find me, am I right?" Aphelios nodded at Yasuo.
"What do you want?" Yasuo asks Aphelios while he opens a can of beer. "I want to end Thresh's tyranny, once it for all" Aphelios signed. "I see...I can show you the list of everyone who's on Thresh's side, follow me" Yasuo finishes his beer and throws it to the trash can and went upstairs.
"Those are the people who are connected to Thresh." Yasuo shows Aphelios pictures of 7 people who are connected with Thresh.
"Do you recognize one of them, Phel?" Akali asks Aphelios, and he nods. "Only him, Renata and Darius," he signed.
Darius is the chief officer of Runeterra's Police Force. He's from Noxus City, but he moved to Valoran City since we have a low number of police officers. He has a brother named Draven, who owns a bar called The Executioner in Nox Vegas.
Renata Glasc, she's the director of the Glasc asylum in Zaun City. She has loved to torture people ever since her parents died by one of her patients, and she tortured them for revenge.
Thresh, he's the CEO of Thresh Co. A corporation of saving businesses from bankruptcy, but he hides his evil side with a smile. He's also a member of The Blessed Council along with Viego, Kalista, Vex, Hecarim, Karthus, Elise, and Yoric.
"What are the other four Yasuo?" Aphelios asks Yasuo and he decides to explain about the other five people that Aphelios doesn't know.
Viego is the CEO of Camavor Co. and a member of the Blessed Council. He became a CEO at a young age since his brother died from an illness. He marries Isolde, who owns a small boutique, but he became a widow when his wife was killed and he became a different person.
"That explains why Viego was on the news about the vandalism by someone," Aphelios thought about the news he saw when Evelynn picked him up.
LeBlanc is a judge in a courthouse who was assigned in cases that Thresh and other corporations that were sued by employees and their employees end up loosing by Thresh. She's a member of The Black Rose Courthouse along with Vladimir.
Cassiopeia is the director of a talent agency, she lure people who want to become models, actors, etc. end up ruining their dreams of becoming famous. She's the oldest of the Du Coteau family, and she has a sister named Katarina and her adopted brother Talon.
And lastly....
Lysandra is the mayor of Freljord City. She and her assistant helped Thresh with his company, and he helped her with her campaign. She never lost on an election on Freljord City, becoming the undefeated of all Runeterra.
Aphelios, Akali and Ezreal learned about Thresh's connections, but in his nightmare, only ten people were present, but it will be for another time, and he decide to ask about Solari Co., Lunari Co., and Kayn.
"How about Solari Co. and Lunari Co.?"
Leona is the CEO of Solari Co. who focused on the security of all Valoran City and she's the one who assigned Commander Darius in the Police Force. Diana is the CEO of Lunari Co. who focused on creating, restoring, and donating books, and she's a member of The Sentinel Council. They both had a connection in the past, but they broke up for personal reason.
"But Leona doesn't know about Thresh's corruption, so that's why I didn't include her, just yet, Diana on the other hand, she's in trouble with him," Yasuo explained, which made Aphelios and Ezreal worried about Alune.
"Phel, can you show a picture of Kayn to Yasuo?" Ezreal ask as Aphelios pulls out a picture of Kayn.
"I don't know about him, sorry." Yasuo apologized to Aphelios, but Akali steps in. "Phel, I know about Kayn, let me tell you."
Shieda Kayn is Zed's adoptive s-
"Wait...he's Zed's kid?" Yasuo asks Akali and she nodded.
Zed adopted Kayn when he was little, he took care of him, until he met Rhaast and the others and he ended up doing bad things.
"Like embarrassing me....." Ezreal looks at Aphelios and hugs him. "How did you know about Zed Yasuo?" Akali asks Yasuo, and he sigh.
"He was a detective in Ionia City, but he moved to Valoran City when he couldn't solve the Virtuoso Case" Yasuo explained while drinking his beer.
"Can you explain more about Diana?" Aphelios signed, and Yasuo agrees.
Diana has a niece named Alune, she adopted her when Alune's family died on a fire. She has serious problems about Lunari Co. because of the debt they had.
"That explains about Thresh making a deal with Lunari Co."
"Exactly, Lunari Co. and Solari Co. are the biggest rivals through g-" Yasuo got interrupted by Ezreal's phone and it was a message from Evelynn.
"Phel, is Evelynn" Ezreal gives his phone to Aphelios and opened the message app.
Chat:
Evelynn: Where are you!? 😡
Ezreal: I'm visiting Yasuo Eve, I'll be home soon
Evelynn: Don't come home
Ezreal: Why?
Evelynn: I'll pick you up tomorrow
-
Aphelios give his phone to Ezreal and sigh. "What's wrong Phel?" Ezreal ask as Aphelios looked at the time.
"I'll be staying here. It was Evelynn's orders," Aphelios signed as they nodded. "Very well, we'll see you in the morning," Aphelios hugged Akali and Ezreal.
"Wait...before we leave, give me your phone number Yasuo"
"Why?"
"Because Phel doesn't have his phone." Yasuo gave his phone number to Ezreal, and he sent a picture to Yasuo on the message.
"I saw a list on a magazine in Kinkou Hospital, hope you recognize these people" Ezreal said as Akali grab his hand leaves.
Yasuo looked at the picture that Ezreal send to him and looks at Aphelios.
"Do you like Fruitcake kid?"
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"Evelynn, why did you left Phel i-"
"I'm going to give him the best Christmas ever," Evelynn said while wrapping every present that Aphelios would receive. "And I need your guys' help," Akali and Ezreal looked at each other and nodded.
"Let's give Phel the best Christmas ever!!"
"YEAH!!"
Evelynn and Aphelios' friends are preparing Christmas gifts for Aphelios, Ezreal decides to put his earbuds and starts singing while wrapping Phel's present.
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Próspero año y felicidad
Akali saw Ezreal singing and smiling. She remembers the conversation she had with Ezreal when they plan to do an escape plan for Phel, and he explains that he had a crush on Kayn, but he was an a**hole. Ezreal was the perfect guy for Kayn, he's kind, sweet, and a bit annoying for Kayn.
I wanna wish you a merry Christmas
I wanna wish you a merry Christmas
I wanna wish you a merry Christmas
From the bottom of my heart
I wanna wish you a merry Christmas
I wanna wish you a merry Christmas
I wanna wish you a merry Christmas
From the bottom of my heart
Akali came close to Ezreal and taped on his shoulder. "Hey Kal, you need something?" he asked, and she nodded. "Yeah, I have something, and you need it," Akali pulls out a silver ring with markings and a purple dangling gem and places it onto Ezreal's hand.
"What's that?"
"It belonged to Kayn. His ex sold it for money, and I recovered it. This ring meant to him, and it was a gift from Zed, and this will help you, trust me," Ezreal looked at the ring, and then Akali.
"I can't do it K-"
"I know you can do it, trust me," Akali smiled at Ezreal, and he nodded to her.
"I will,"
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A/N: This concludes Chapter 2 of the Christmas Special guys!! Also, the debut of Yasuo, and he will appear on Arc 2, since he will have a chapter on Arc 2. Also, the revelation of Thresh's connection, and the council, there gonna be 2 different councils which it will reveal in the future, I'll see you next week guys.
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arisherifeu · 11 months ago
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BROKEN PEOPLE PART V (James Wilson fanfiction)
Author’s note: Remember when I said Part V would be the last one? I lied. ★~(◠‿◕✿) cause apparently theres just so much things to unpack lmao. My fault but hope u guys like it lmao.
Quite long this time: 2.3K words
Part I , Part II, Part III, Part IV Part VI
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Lynette was awake the moment she realise something heavy was resting on her right ribs. She couldn’t continue sleeping as she couldn’t breathe. She peered down and saw James’s arm resting on her. Then she looked at the clock on her bed table and saw it was close to 6:00am. It was still dark out. She was still sleepy but she just couldn’t go back to sleep. By the heard of the snoring, and the breathing on her nape, James was still fast asleep. They both were fast asleep after the aftercare from last night and James suggested that it was a good idea to sleep naked. Lynette was okay with the idea. It just meant more intimacy and she wanted more of it but she regrets it in the morning since she felt shivers cause she was very very cold. Like colder than usual cold. When she touched her forehead to feel the temperature, she can already tell she was burning up.
Suddenly it hits, her migraine came back and this time it was too painful for her to handle. It was a stab to her brain and apparently it had spread to her frontal lobe and it was something new. It was a new symptom. Lynette moaned in pain. Holding her head in her hands, curling up from the pain. James were startled and was awaken from her moving.
“Baby, what’s going on? Where does it hurt?” James instantly shot up, turning on the lights to see more visuals of Lynette’s face. To James’s horror, Lynette was extremely pale. She was still holding her head trying to held back her pain. James went frantic when she felt that she was burning up.
“I’m calling the ambulance.” James declared. Lynette was in no position to defy him.
After a while, the ambulance came. James rode in , and told the paramedics to bring them to Princeton Plainsboro for her admittance. Figured it was easy since all of their friends were there. After her admittance, everyone was perplexed especially Cuddy. She didn’t expect her best cardiologist was a patient in the hospital. She was also shocked by the fact that James was with Lynette during her admittance, unaware of their new relationship. Usually, House would know first and spread it out. James was also surprised that House kept quiet about the situation.
When Cuddy asked for specifics, James told Cuddy about her medical history including her recreational use of drugs to manage her pain. Which Cuddy believed could have been the reason to get her fired but James backed her up saying that they should run more tests to see what’s going on.
Lynette couldn’t stop crying from the pain that she was feeling, so Foreman decided to inject her up with morphine which thankfully had calmed her down. She was fast asleep now, but later they’re taking her to radiology to get her MRI. James continued working as per usual so he could distract himself. He needed to or else he will go insane and probably go M.I.A. Everything about the whole situation sparked a post traumatic disorder for him.
“Another dying girlfriend, Wilson?” House chimed in on Wilson at his office, leaning against the doorframe of James’s office. James continued to work as per usual as he wasn’t in the mood for House’s shenanigans.
“Poor you. You can never take a break huh? What is it with you and your Messiah complex? Everybody doesn’t need saving.” He limps his way to James’ couch and plopped down on it.
“Shut up House.” He jest.
Truthfully this was too scary for James. House just wanted to be here to support his best friend but House was scared that he’ll drop down dead if Lynette dies or something. It took a long time for James to get back on his feet again after losing Amber a few years back. To get into the same situation was too much for him but he decided to keep quiet about it. House peered over James, seeing how tense he was. House can tell that he was anxious to find out about the lab reports which he may get an update from Foreman later on.
“I am just saying she might not be me but she will be if you keep enabling her the same way you do to you ex wives and to me. That’s why you’re going to end up resenting her. If she dies—
James slammed hard on his desk. “Can you shut up for just once in your whole life?! For once I was happy this last six months! When I had to deal with your stupid antics, she was my coping mechanism! She made me happy, House! I stopped enabling you long ago because I gave up on you. You were never gonna listen to me cause you’re gonna end up OD’d yourself infront of me and played it off like nothing anyway! My life is not sone reality tv show for your amusement!” James ejaculated. He stand up, feeling cramped up in his own space. “Leave me alone, House.” James stated.
Not soon after, Foreman came in without knocking. Foreman eyed you both before peering over to James. He seemed urgent. “We got her lab results. You might wanna come with me to see her.” He said to the both of them. James trailed behind Foreman to her room.
A few walks later, James saw that Lynette was awake. She looked so defeated and tired. James walked over to her, holding her hand. “Hey stranger.” She smiled. James smiled as well.
“How are you feeling?” He asked. “I’ve been better.” She can only replied.
Foreman and House reviewed the MRI. There’s a look of certainty on House’s face.
“Well Ms Cardiologist, apparently you have the same thing that your father has. Meningioma. There’s a few mass along the dura mater. We have to do a biopsy to confirm whether it’s benign and malignant. It’s an easy fix, I think. I am not sure because I don’t like to give guarantees.” House limp walk himself over to you.
“Yea okay sure.” Was only the words Lynette could managed. She doesn’t want to indulge in House’s shenanigans and she doesn’t want to entertain him. House sighed.
“Foreman is the best neurologist that we ever have. You’re gonna be fine.” House said hesitantly. He knows he had been an ass to Lynette so this his way of compensating. Lynette looked at him with such cold eyes though, but she broke into a soft smile and nodded at him. House limped away from the lovers and went back to his office.
James sat down next to her. “You’re going to be okay.” He managed, but Lynette can feel something off about his demeanour. Instead of looking at Lynette, he was looking elsewhere. It felt like he didn’t wanna be there. He seemed distant.
“If you need to work, you can go James. You don’t have to be here with me. I’m fine on my own.” Lynette reassured him. James looked at her with uncertainty. His right leg was shaking, fingers twitching. It felt like there was something he wanted to tell Lynette but in fact, he can’t. To him, the worst case scenario, he’s gonna start crying. So before any of that happens, he stood up. “I’m going to my office, if you need me. Just give me a call. Okay?” He managed. Lynette nodded. James gave her a quick kiss and left.
Lynette muttered, “Everybody got secrets.”
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It has been a week since Lynette was hospitalised. Her brain biopsy confirmed that she has a benign tumor which was completely harmless for her. A lot of tests were conducted on her to rule out any other possible diseases but she was healthy. Just her kidneys needs to be observed more since she was a drug user but everything else was great.
“I guess this is splendid news for you right?” Foreman questioned Lynette. James looked at Lynette, wanting to see a reaction but she just smiled.
“Thanks Foreman.” She managed.
“Your surgery scheduled for later tonight. No food or water yeah? I’ll see you in the OR.” He said, picking up all the scans and MRI and left the room. Lynette observed James who had an off day today and decided to keep Lynette company. But again, Lynette knew something was wrong and waited the whole week for Wilson to just spill a story but he’s keeping really quiet about it. Lynette decided to get up, James got on his feet and quickly helped her up.
“You need the toilet?” He asked.
“No, I need fresh air.”
“Do you need a wheelchair?”
“No, I can walk.”
“Do you need—“
“James? I need you to just come with me on a walk okay?”
Lynette softly tell him. Truthfully, she was annoyed. She had been so vulnerable to him and she was expecting the same thing from him as well and that was her mistake. She shouldn’t have expected anything. James smiled at her and took her hand and they both went down to the garden.
They were outside now. Walking in the garden, hand in hand. James other hand was in his pocket. He felt a bit chilly and somehow melancholic. Lynette spotted a bench so she decided to sit on it. She eyed the surrounding, feeling a bit gloomy. The leafless trees in mid Autumn season caught her eyes. The weather looked dark but truthfully she likes this feeling. Gloomy doesn’t have to be sad. Its just another good weather for her. The wind breeze brushed past her, and it messed up her hair so she fixed it, taking the strands of hair and tucked them behind the ear. Lynette sighed.
“I can tell that you’re feeling something that you don’t wanna address about. After I got sick, you seemed really distant. I didnt wanna ask but..if somehow this is inconveniencing you, you don’t have to be here for me. I can take care of myself..” Lynette started. Looking at the hospital’s building right in front of her. A few patients are enjoying their walks too and had glanced them every once in a while.
“As much as I love you, you’re not obligated to stay beside me if you don’t want to. If you think you can’t handle me right now, then…” she hesitated. “Walk away.” She finished hesitantly.
Lynette stared at her hand. Feeling the breeze passing by her again. They were quiet for quite a while. None of them spoke of anything else. James was too quiet. He heard Lynette, and he knows she wanted an explanation. But he wasn’t ready to get his heart broken again. He was choosing whether to bury the secret with her or just simply be vulnerable as well. Lynette puts her palm on his thigh and gave it a few reassuring strokes before she got up, wanting to go back to the building again, leaving James behind, not looking back anymore.
James started to get anxious, his heart was beating faster. He doesn’t wanna let her go. He wants her. James got up and went after her. When he caught up to her, he held her arm. He doesn’t looked at her just yet but when he did, he almost felt like crying.
“We will have the conversation, I promise. But let’s just focus on getting you better first? Please?” He begged. Looking at her with the stupid puppy dog eyes she had ever seen. He wanted her to drop it, he doesn’t want to talk about it. He demanded not to speak of it. Lynette sighed and surrendered. At that point, she couldn’t care anymore. Both of them walked back to her room together.
Night came, and so was Lynette’s scheduled surgery time. She was pretty nervous about her first surgery. James was there right by her bed before getting into the OR. Her heart was beating so fast, she was too worried. What if she ended up dead on the table like her father?
“You’re gonna be fine.” James reassured her.
“Whatever happens, I love you.” Lynette confessed. Again, James felt his trauma running throughout her whole body. Felt the shiver running down his spine. He even has the goosebumps. “I love you more.” He replied, giving her the kiss before Foreman pushed her into the OR. James was praying hard on the inside that he would see her again when she comes out from the OR. James went to the observation deck. He wanted to be there every step of the way.
He sat down when the surgery started and House joined him. Sitting next to him with a file in his hand. James eyed the file and saw Lynette’s name on it. James sighed and rolled his eyes from the annoyance. “I dont want to see her file.” He jest. Adamant not to play anymore games with House. House smiled at him. “Oh you’re gonna want to.” He passed the file to him. James not budging. Hes not taking the file from his hand and he’s not saying a word.
“I am just gonna say that unless you guys had a wonderful coitus, a stork is coming your way in another 9 months.” House teased. Giving him the hint.
James’s mouth dropped. “What?” Is all he could managed before reaching for her file. “She’s pregnant?” James asked flipping through her file and saw that her pregnancy test was confirmed positive. He didn’t bother to look at the other tests that were displayed in the file.
“Yea, probably got knocked up by some guy before—“
“She was a virgin.” James confessed. House raised his eyebrows.
“This is not some kind of virgin birth, Wilson. She’s pregnant.” House retorts.
“It’s mine..I took her virginity.” James confessed again, unable to process the information.
“Well, congratulations? I guess? I don’t know. What reaction are you looking for?” House asked before going out.
“House!” James called, and House stopped just right by the door. “Not one word of this please.” He begged but House didn’t say anything back and walk out.
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jasmineleeplays · 1 month ago
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El Cid moves from the Alcudia on the island of Mayurqa to the temple of Montanejos, where he recruits from the tavern Wadih the Greedy whose full name is Wadih banu Fatima, a wiseman who he puts to good use immediately as the Camp's Personal Physician.
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Next, El Cid travels to Granada County in the Taifa of Granatah, controlled by Emir Tamim "the Ash'ari" of Granatah. El Cid offers Military Assistance to Emir Tamim to fight a Liberty War against the Emir's vassal. El Cid charges into the Battle of Mursiyyah outnumbered with 661 men, but handily defeats the 1093-strong enemy army.
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El Cid's second son, Diego gains the trait Patient after meeting and being impressed by the wisdom of one of the Camp's knights. Meanwhile, El Cid's eldest son and heir, Rodrigo gets promised a sewing kit by El Cid himself and learns to become Trusting of others.
El Cid takes some time out of the war to come to the aid of Countess Emili "the Smelly" of Ipuskoa, the Marshal of the Kingdom of Navarra. She wants El Cid to Fight Corruption amongst the peasants of Navarra and bring them to obedience towards King Gartzia V.
At the same time, a wild bush fire strikes in the dead of night in a thunderstorm and El Cid heroically puts out the fire.
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While El Cid was traveling back to war from his assignment in Navarra, as he was making camp in Olite, he saw his Personal Physician Wadih crush the head of his aunt-in-law Adiba.
This incident was shocking as El Cid didn't know they were even rivals to begin with. El Cid quickly arrests and imprisons Wadih for the murder and releases a prisoner of war to take his place as Personal Physician - Hisham Razinid, a slightly older Andalusian man who has the physician trait and is a Witch.
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El Cid's heir, Rodrigo comes to El Cid with a request - to allow his Crush Amat al-Izz and her parents to join The Loyal Vassals. Amat is a high stat Qunkah teen with 4 personality traits, and someone who we could get behind being Rodrigo's future spouse, so El Cid says yes.
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El Cid marches his army to Isbiliyyah to track down the enemy army at the Battle of Carmona. This inevitably exposes him and the army to the region's Measles epidemic, resulting in himself, Pedro his Nephew and his Second Alvar Fanez succumbing to Measles. Pedro and Alvar become blind, but thankfully El Cid gets cured completely.
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Finally, after 4 long years of war, it ends in victory for El Cid's contractor Emir Tamim. The same cannot be said for the Emir's vassal Wali Ahmad ibn al-Mu'tasim of al-Mariyyah who is now just Ahmad Sumadihid.
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kkkindered · 8 months ago
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MODERN V.
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K'IN — 23+
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• Family company markets forms of art (painting/galleries, modelling (runway/streetwear)
• Models for their family company and was quite a fan of it
• Father was loving, but fame went to his head, and he got a mistress because he could
• Wife of eight years and mother to his kids dies of grief after finding out
• “ Thankfully, it happened in the early days, so the company's branding wasn't affected ”
• K'in took up the working mantle so their siblings could live normally and grieve without hindrance
• Fame also went to their heads. Though they do try to ensure it's easy enough to shake off around their close ones. (thankfully doesn't have any floating rumours of their attitude and brattiness though she is called indifferent in articles)
• They are still close to their siblings, though ever since they've changed, their brother has lessened his contact with them
• Has a pet fennec fox from a rescue facility named Rogue
DELPHINE — 27+
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• Works at a modelling agency recently signed to ‘ Astoria Project ’
• Teaches painting classes for all ages as a part-time job/hobbie and keeps it separate from modelling, though she does have some models come and pose at times
• Sees the signs of abuse + fame on K'in when they are put to work together by their father and cares in whatever way won't set off their damaging independence while also not engaging with her (few moments of) attention fishing
• History as training to be a pro fighter, but that was left in her early twenties in favour of a physically calmer job after a messy divorce
• Grew up traditionally and branched away from it in defiance after a botched marriage but wants to return to that but doing so feels like a betrayal to herself
• In some versions probably takes custody of K'in
• Has a pet green python and works with reptiles at Kio's shelter as a volunteer
KIO — 23+
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• In school for interior design
• Had unchecked kleptomania, which led him down a path of petty crimes
• Has a criminal record that he's running from even though he’s given all the time for it already
• Has abandonment issues from sister
• Probably in a toxic relationship or going from relationship to relationship because of said issues
• Works part-time at a shelter/pound and makes miniature homes to fill in whatever time he finds
• Owns a blind dog (unsure of breed)
• Hopes he can find his sister after she ran away but is losing hope
• Ends up meeting K'in during his internship, helping decorate their personal home
• He doesn't like them. Thinks they're a stuck up bitch
• Has never met Delphine, but pities anyone who works with them instinctly
ZARA — 23+
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• Ran away from home at 16
• doesn't feel guilty/holds disdain for her brother
• got into nursing as a jab to her parents + holds no real passion for it
• got into nursing school with dirty money but was never caught
• works at the local hospital now as a PACU nurse + privately with a surgeon from said hospital
• Never hopes to see her twin again so she doesn't have to realise how misplaced her anger is
• Is possessive over one of her past patients but she is in denial and blames it on being so surface level to so many others (isn't a lie)
DELTA — 24+
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Trained to be an Olympic level swimmer after finding a deep passion in the hobby. His parents encouraged it. Rather, their child find a stable hobby instead of switching to another every few weeks. Sure, they're well off, but seeing money go towards elite classes that he losses interest in after maybe four or five sessions is disheartening.
So when he threw himself and his everything into swimming, they were relieved.
Until they weren't.
On the way to his first competition in getting a spot in the Olympics; the vehicle crashed. The driver was badly injured but alive, and so was Delta. Glass shards stuck in his legs from the side of the van being crashed into head on by another vehicle and further more trapped under the collapsed door— pinned by his seat belt in place.
His legs were saved. Though feeling in them aren't the same, mobility compromised as well. Resulting in him needing assistance from crutches or a cane. Right leg left with immense scarring and privy to phantom and real pain if he rests on it too heavily.
He was devastated. Being unable to swim. Never being able to do so with the amount of pain he simply gets from bending his leg to a certain angle. To cope and combat away the stifling dread, he throws himself into meticulous hand crafts to keep his curiosity alive.
SHILOH - 27+
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Shiloh is a model as well. Was very much a cover boy for magazines before K'in was placed in the spotlight too.
They have many sibling shoots together. It was fun. Posing and chatting in between pictures. Helping each other when an outfit is uncomfortable or a hair is out of place. Water being traded because being under those lights are exhausting and they’ve been at it for hours.
It wasn't until Father noticed how many was intrigued by his sister that he took a backseat.
He was happy watching K'in raise in their fame. It was beautiful to watch his sister bloom under the adoration of the fans. On his break, Shiloh indulged in helping out in the jewelry department and small details in styling. Even handles lump orders from brands if he can.
He still models and puts the money to charities or small jewelry businesses and does interviews here and there.
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MAIN ADJUSTED V.
Simply put the magical world is being connected to the fairytale/supernatural world through magical means and my muses just decided to venture away from their normal lives to ours.
(OR my muses are just fantasy but can use phones !)
King uses his high fashion and dated art skills and gets swept up into the fashion/art industry, and K'in revels in the familiarity of it all.
Onyx is relieved of their post of babysitter but stays close out of habit and opens an art studio and teaches anyone who wants at affordable prices and enjoys herself thoroughly.
Kio is also relieved of his jester duties and frees his twin. His love of numbers and need to make things 'pretty' he turns to learning interior design and from connections he's built himself a good branding and is staying afloat.
Zara, upon being freed, searches high and low for Delta. Finding him and taking him to the nearest healers. Apparently, the change of magical output cancelled out his mer-features so he's survived the lack of oxygen in the air. She ends up attending nursing school in hopes of caring for Delta herself.
Delta is deeply troubled by his lack of scales and fins, but he is intrigued by it all. If he wasn't being cared for by (either) K'in and Zara he'd be walking around staring at any and everything. He has no qualms about his arrangement though, just wishes he could wander more.
Shiloh has branched away from his father with the sudden eyes on him and his sister and invests in small businesses and part times to fill his day. Making sure to always be accessible to K'in through as they navigate the new world together.
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chaitalitrivedi · 2 years ago
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Vaginal Tightening Surgery Medical Benefits
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Many women are concerned about the stretching of their vaginas-the expansion of the elastic muscles of the vagina, due to age or childbirth. That’s because these lead to thinning of the vaginal walls, loss of elasticity and tightness, and a general laxity of the vagina with which comes various physical and mental problems. These include painful sex, trouble achieving orgasms, stress urinary incontinence, and lower self-confidence. Thankfully, there are surgical and non-surgical vaginal tightening procedures to treat loose vaginas and resolve the problems associated with it.   
One can get to know more about vaginal tightening surgery in Mumbai with the best cosmetic gynecolgical surgeon Dr. Chaitali Mahajan Trivedi at Nanavati Super Speciality Hospital and she has discussed the benefits one can get after undergoing this surgery.
Vaginal tightening surgery aka vaginoplasty is a simple and excessively convenient medical procedure carried out by gynecologists to tighten the loose vaginal muscles caused by age, congenital, childbirth, or hormonal reasons. During this surgery, the surgeon pulls close together the pelvic floor muscles and/or cuts out any excess or loose skin of the vagina. It is performed under anesthesia or sedation. The procedure is quick and painless and is not associated with extensive recovery.
Vaginal tightening surgery is considered by women of any age group to enjoy its benefits including:
Immediate relief from vaginal prolapse and urinary leakage- When the tissues and muscles of the pelvic floor and vagina weaken or overstretched, women may experience stress-induced urinary incontinence or vagina prolapse- the slipping of the top of the vagina from its normal position. Patients suffering from stress-induced urinary continence as a result of their loose vagina are likely to experience urinary leakage while they laugh, sneeze, or even sit/stand- i.e. while exerting physical pressure. With vaginal tightening surgery, the pelvic floor muscles are strengthened which further helps these patients to regain the control they had over their urinary bladder, thereby eliminating the problems of stress-induced urinary incontinence.
Instant relief from vaginal itching and vaginal dryness- As the skin of the vagina loses its elasticity, it leads to a dry and itchy vagina. Vaginal tightening surgery helps rejuvenate the vagina and after restoring the vagina to its original youthful state, these problems get alleviated.
Increased sexual pleasure- Vaginal tightening surgery improves the strength and elasticity of the pelvic floor and vaginal muscles and tightens them. This allows the muscles to contract again and increase friction and sensation during sexual activities which provides pain relief to the patient during sexual activities and lets the patient experience pleasurable sex and better orgasms- finally better sexual satisfaction!
Restored feminine appeal and regained self-confidence- Vaginal tightening surgery helps increase the vaginal diameter, improves vaginal laxity, treats loose, badly-shaped vagina, and provides better tone to the vaginal muscles. A well-reconstructed vagina brings back the beauty of the vagina area as the tissues and muscles get firmer after the surgery and further boosts the self-confidence of the patient about her feminine appeal.    
To know more about V-tightening surgery in Mumbai consult Dr. Chaitali Mahajan Trivedi at Nanavati Super Speciality Hospital today!
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demi--human · 8 months ago
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Lil Updates [under the cut because it got long lol] Overall content warning for rambles about mental illnesses / mental health (nothing graphic)
-> ADHD Diagnosis??? have yet to finish the screening, but it's v likely [I'm nearly 25 and I'm not kidding when I say I had /no clue/ until recently that this was a possibility; my brother (29) has had ADHD (initially diagnosed as ADD) my entire life, so my joke always was "that's his thing, i've got the other issues wink wink" (because my symptoms don't present in the same way his do) WHEN I TOLD HIM ABOUT PROBABLY HAVING IT HE JUST GOES "Yeah, I coulda told you that." ... bastard /aff.] Anywhoo, this now has us questioning if our AvPD is a misdiagnosis* of (severe?) Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, or if we have them comorbidly (that's a word, right?). * - I was diagnosed at 16, approximately 9 years ago - and while I fit the criteria, my counselor at the time didn't really discuss it with me at all. (I really only knew I had it because I read my paperwork, but didn't think to ask about it? I had homework to not do lol) So, my list of diagnoses is getting longer, I feel the urge to prune it /lh joking
-> Setting Therapy Goals!! This was actually quite the struggle for us haha, even working directly with Null to figure out what things we really want to focus/ work on. Thankfully our counsellor is patient with us and doesn't mind helping out whenever we get stuck overthinking.
-> Speaking of our Therapist At our first appointment back (because she's been our therapist since like 2017, but we just returned after a nearly two year - involuntary - hiatus oops) -- Anyway, at our first appointment back, we told her about (possibly) being plural! We didn't really get into it much, since most of that first session was filled with other things, and we didn't bring it up till we were about to leave. She was chill about it and seemed to believe us and take our word for it, which was really nice (us? terrified of being fakeclaimed by a medical professional? absolutely.) Though, she did say that it sounded to her like we're an Internal Family System, which, while totally valid, I/we have mixed feelings about? like a knee-jerk "Don't label me" reaction. More to think about.
So that's just a bit of what's been going on for us! To those who took the time to read this, I don't understand why, but thanks for listening to (er, reading?) my rambles. There's definitely more to come xD
Be kind to yourselves, unclench your jaw, hydrate, make sure you go to bed at a reasonable time, and all that good stuff. We wish the best for you.
prolly not going to be very active for a bit. we're just... struggling. resuming therapy soon though, so hope is on the horizon
be gentle with yourselves <3
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fatecantstopme · 2 years ago
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If I Love You Too Much, I’m Sorry
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Pairing: Chris Evans x reader
Summary: I got the idea from Russell Dickerson's song “Sorry”. Chris expresses his feelings for you via karaoke.
Warnings: RPF. Use of pet names. Cursing. Smut, Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)
You'd met your boyfriend purely by chance. Your friends had dragged you out to a karaoke bar one night and he happened to be there with some of his own friends.
You were slightly embarrassed to say that you didn't even notice him until he got up on stage to sing a song. The moment you heard him speak, you recognized his Boston accent.
"Tell me that's not Chris Evans," you whispered to your best friend, Andi.
She turned towards the stage, eyes widening. "That is one hundred percent Chris Evans."
"What the hell is he doing in a karaoke bar in the middle of the week?" you hissed.
She laughed and shrugged. "Girl, everyone loves a good karaoke night. Even famous people."
One of your other friends rushed over to your table with a couple drinks. "Dude, did you see Chris freaking Evans? He's on stage!"
"Yeah, Nic, we saw him," you said. "Hard to miss the hot guy singing freaking Led Zeppelin."
"Who picks a Led Zeppelin song for karaoke?" Cole asked in annoyance.
You chuckled. "Apparently Chris Evans does."
Cole rolled his eyes. "Straight guys are so weird." He took a long drink. "At least he's pretty."
You bit your lip as you turned to look over at him. "Pretty is not the word I'd use," you mumbled.
Andi smacked your arm and you laughed.
"Okay, so you're getting up there next, right?" Nic teased you.
"Absolutely not."
"Why not?! You always sing karaoke."
"Not when Chris Evans might see me. No way in hell."
"Oh come on," Andi said with a grin. "Maybe he'll fall in love with you after he hears you sing."
You threw a napkin at her and she giggled.
"One of you can get up there and sing instead. I'm gonna get another drink."
You crossed the room to the bar, not really noticing that the song had changed. You ordered your drink and patiently waited for the bartender to make it. He handed you the drink with a smile and you grabbed it with a thanks. You turned around, not really paying much attention, and ran directly into a firm, broad chest, spilling your drink all over yourself and him.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry," you said quickly, before looking up at the man you'd run into.
"It's alright, I kinda ran into you."
That thick Boston accent would have told you exactly who he was even if you hadn't been staring into his blue eyes.
You gulped, mouth suddenly dry.
He smiled at you warmly, taking you in slowly, eyes trailing over you before making their way back to your face. "How 'bout I buy you another one?"
"You--you wanna buy me a drink?" you squeaked.
He laughed. "Yeah, if you'll let me."
You nodded rapidly. "Sure."
He placed his hand on your hip to gently slide you over so he could get to the bar. Your whole body lit up, sparks igniting every nerve ending. You cleared your throat, trying desperately to be normal again.
Chris ordered you another drink before turning to address you again. He put his hand out to shake yours and said, "I'm Chris."
You shook his hand and mumbled, "I know."
He laughed, smile widening.
"Sorry--I don't mean to be awkward," you fumbled. "It's not every day you meet Chris Evans."
"Don't worry about it. Just think of me like a normal guy, buying a pretty girl a drink."
"I can work with that," you said with a smile, trying not to die when he called you 'pretty'. "I--uh, I'm (Y/N)."
"(Y/N)," he said your name as if he was tasting it. "Beautiful name."
"Thanks," you said, face heating up as a blush creeped into your cheeks.
Thankfully, the bartender finished your drink, handing it to Chris. He turned to you and handed you the drink. "Would you like to sit with me? I'd love to chat with you."
You gave him a smile you hoped looked normal. "I'd love to."
He put his hand on your lower back and gently guided you to a small table at the back of the room where it was quieter.
The two of you stayed and talked for hours, about everything and anything. You were surprised by how down-to-earth he was and you found yourself feeling incredibly comfortable with him.
You were still talking when last call went out. Chris looked surprised and you glanced around the mostly-empty bar, noticing your friends had left you.
"I didn't realize it was so late," he said.
"Yeah, my friends already left."
He glanced around. "Mine too. Can I get you a ride home?"
"Oh, thanks, but I actually live a couple blocks away. I'll just walk."
"At this time of night? Absolutely not."
Surprise lit up your face. "I do it all the time."
"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk home by yourself?"
You raised your eyebrows. "Are you offering to walk me home?"
He stood up and reached out to help you up. "I am, indeed."
You laughed and slid your hand into his, letting him pull you out of your chair.
"Let me just go pay the tab," he said.
"Oh, I have to pay mine too."
"I've got it," he insisted.
"You don't have to--"
He waved you off. "Please let me. My mama raised me right."
You chuckled. "Alright, if you insist."
"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
You watched as he walked away, disbelief suddenly sinking in. You'd spent hours talking to Chris and now he was paying your tab and walking you home. What the hell is happening with your life?
"Ready?"
You smiled at him. "Absolutely."
"Lead the way, beautiful."
You couldn't help the soft sound that left your lips, but you hoped he hadn't heard you.
It was a beautiful night and the walk only took about 15 minutes. When you reached your apartment, you stopped and turned to him. "This is me."
He looked a little sad, as if he didn't want the night to end. "I have to say, I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a long time."
"Neither have I," you said honestly.
"Could--could I maybe call you?"
Surprise lit up your face for what had to be the millionth time that night. "You--you wanna call me?"
He smiled warmly. "Yeah, if you're okay with it."
"I'd love that, actually."
He took out his phone and handed it to you so you could put your number in. When you handed it back, he slid it into his pocket and took a step towards you.
You froze, allowing him to stop within an inch of touching you. He looked down at you and your eyes met his. You desperately wanted him to kiss you, but you weren't about to beg him for it.
He leaned down, pressing his lips gently to yours, taking your breath away with a soft kiss. You leaned into him, hands sliding around his neck to pull him closer.
The kiss was incredible, but so much shorter than you would have liked. When Chris separated his lips from yours, you let out a soft whimper at the loss of contact. He didn't step back and his hands didn't leave your face.
You heard yourself whisper, "Would you like to come in?"
He smiled at you, warm eyes filled with desire. "I would like that very much."
He followed you into your building and up to your apartment. The moment you were inside, he pulled you against him, lips attaching themselves to yours once more.
You weren't even sure how you made it to the bedroom, let alone how you'd lost every piece of clothing either of you had been wearing along the way.
To say the sex was incredible would be an understatement. It was, without a doubt, the best sex of your life. Chris pulled you into him afterwards and you fell asleep almost instantly.
When you woke up the next morning, you were surprised to feel an arm draped across your midsection. You turned your head and saw Chris sound asleep beside you, arm holding you tightly. You smiled at the sight, heart warming as you watched him sleep.
"You're staring, beautiful," he murmured softly.
"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "I thought you were still asleep."
"I was until you started staring into my soul," he teased, blue eyes opening to take you in.
You suddenly felt self-conscious, knowing you probably looked like a hot mess after everything that had happened the night before.
"You're so beautiful," he said reverently, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your ear.
You blushed. "Thank you."
You glanced over at the clock and gasped. "Shit! I'm gonna be late for work." You scrambled out of bed and ran to the attached bathroom.
"Sorry about that, sweets," Chris said, getting out of the bed and following you into the bathroom. "You're more than welcome to blame me for your lateness."
You laughed. "I just might." You turned on the shower and looked over at him. "Wanna shower with me real quick?"
"You don't have to ask twice."
What had begun as a night out with friends had magically turned into one of the best nights of your life and the beginning of something truly amazing.
**********
Six months later, you were back in the same karaoke bar on a Saturday night with your friends and Chris, whom you'd been secretly dating since that first night.
Well, it wasn't entirely a secret. Your friends and family knew about the relationship, but it hadn't been made public yet. You and Chris had been very careful to keep it as private as possible, for your sake more than anything. He didn't like the idea of people invading your personal life just because you were dating him.
You'd begun asking him about making the relationship public a few weeks ago. You were willing to sacrifice your privacy if it meant being truly with him. It hadn't been very long, but you both already knew that this was going to be a long-term thing. You couldn't keep living like this and you knew it was taking a toll on him as well.
Your best friend, Andi, had suggested getting together at the karaoke bar you and Chris had met at. In her estimation, it was past time for the two of you to be together in public. Much to your surprise, Chris agreed.
You were all sitting comfortably at a table towards the back of the bar, relaxing and chatting. Your friends were talking about some nonsense and you turned to look at Chris. He was completely engaged in the conversation, nodding and laughing along with your friends' antics.
It warmed your heart to see him so happy and engaged with the people you loved. He was always so sweet and good with them, just like he was with you. You loved him so much, but you hadn't been completely comfortable admitting it to him just yet. It's like that old saying, 'when you know, you know'; and you sure as hell knew.
"Babe," Chris said again, waving his hand in front of your face.
"Hmm?" you hummed, shaking your head to clear it.
"Where was that pretty little head at?" he asked lightly.
"I was just thinking...nothing important."
He clearly didn't believe you, but he let it go. "I'm gonna go sign up to sing. Wanna come with me?"
"Oh lord. I think I'm going to decline tonight."
He shook his head. "You're missing out," he teased as he got up and headed to the other side of the bar.
"Hey," Andi said as she elbowed you gently. "What's up with you tonight?"
You shrugged. "My mind is somewhere else, that's all. But I'm okay, I promise."
Her eyes narrowed as she took you in, but her expression softened as she clearly decided to believe you. "He's really great, you know."
"I know," you smiled as you looked across the room at him.
"Oh I know that face."
"What face?"
"The one you're making, (Y/N)."
"I'm not making a face."
She raised an eyebrow. "Mhm. Sure." She leaned in closer and whispered, "You love him."
Your eyes widened and your head whipped in her direction. "Shh!"
"I whispered it!" she insisted. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're not wrong," you mumbled.
"Have you told him?"
"Not yet."
"You have to!" she insisted.
"You love 'love' a little too much," you teased.
"I know," she said dreamily. "I just love seeing you so happy, babe."
You leaned against her. "I really am happy."
She wrapped you in a tight hug. "Love you."
"Love you too, weirdo."
Chris made his way back to the table. "I'm up in two songs."
"What did you pick to sing?" you asked.
"It's a surprise," he said with a wink.
"As long as it's not WAP or something like that," Cole said dryly.
Everyone laughed.
"I would pay to hear you sing that," you said, laughing loudly.
"I promise it's not that," Chris insisted, still giggling.
The conversation drifted to other topics and you were engrossed in it. So much so, that you missed Chris getting up to go to the stage.
"Hey, everyone," he said into the mic.
You turned your head to look in the direction of the stage at the sound of Chris's voice.
"This song goes out to someone very special to me."
"Aww," Andi whispered.
"Shut up," you said lightly.
The first notes of the song started and your breath caught in your chest. It was a newer song, but Chris had been walking around his house and yours singing it for weeks.
Girl I wanted to apologize
For the way I've been acting lately
I been doing all kinda things
I probably just drive you crazy.
Gotta get it off my chest
Oh, and it just can't wait
It's something I ain't told you yet,
Baby, I just gotta say
Your heart was thumping in your chest loudly enough that you were certain your friends could hear it over the music. You knew every word to this song since Chris loved it so much.
Girl, I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody
For saying that we should leave the party
Soon as we walk in it
Have you outta that dress in a minute.
You hate it when I say it
You're so beautiful you oughta be famous
My bad.
Go ahead, you can blame it on me
If I love you too much, I'm sorry.
You couldn't breathe. For the first time since he first started singing this song, you let the words fully sink in. Your only thought was 'Is he saying that to me?'
Your friends were looking over at you to gauge your reaction, but you couldn't take your eyes off the man on stage. His gaze rested on you as he sang and you could hear the emotion in his voice. An emotion you couldn't quite place...or maybe just too afraid to.
Sorry for coming home early
When I was out with the boys downtown,
But there ain't nothing I'd rather do
Than come home and lay you down.
'Cause, baby, you're so perfect
I can't get you off my mind
So if I miss you
Gotta kiss you like a thousand times.
Andi leaned over to you. "Has he ever told you he loves you?"
You just shook your head.
"Well, I think he just did," she whispered.
Oh, I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody
For saying that we should leave the party
Soon as we walk in it
Have you outta that dress in a minute.
You hate it when I say it
You're so beautiful you oughta be famous
My bad.
Go ahead, you can blame it on me
If I love you too much, I'm sorry.
Other people in the bar had started looking in your direction, following the direction of Chris's gaze. Normally that would bother you, but in this moment, you couldn't get yourself to care. All you could think about was the way he was looking at you, mixed with the words coming out of his mouth.
'Cause I want you
And I need you
If I tell you too much
Then I just gotta say it
I'm sorry, mmm, I'm sorry.
Your body was reacting to his voice in the way it always did and you wanted him badly, more than you could recall ever wanting him before. You knew the song was coming to an end and you couldn't help but sing along to the last chorus.
I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody
For saying that we should leave the party
Soon as we walk in it
Have you outta that dress in a minute.
You hate it when I say it
You're so beautiful you oughta be famous
My bad.
Go ahead, you can blame it on me
If I love you too much, I'm sorry.
"You okay, girl?" Andi asked as Chris finished up the song.
"I think so," you said softly.
She squeezed your hand and you watched as Chris walked off the stage and started coming towards you. Several people's gazes followed him, trying to see exactly where he was going, and more importantly, who he was going to.
When he reached you, he didn't even hesitate. He leaned down and kissed you deeply in front of your friends and a room full of strangers. Your friends started whooping and other people in the bar clapped.
He pulled away from you, expression unreadable. "Wanna get outta here, baby?" he whispered in your ear.
"Please," you whimpered. You blushed, embarrassed by the pleading tone of your voice.
He pulled you out of your chair and practically dragged you towards the door. You gave Andi a look and she grinned ear to ear, waving at you as your boyfriend pulled you away.
He pulled out his phone as soon as you got outside and started typing.
"Baby? What are you doing?"
"Calling an Uber."
"Why? It's a 15 minute walk."
He turned to look at you with a hungry look. His pupils were lust-blown and you finally took the time to notice the desire literally oozing from his pores. "I'm not going to make it that long," he practically growled.
Warmth flooded your core at his tone, coupled with the way he was looking at you. You were lost for words, so you just nodded at him.
He squeezed your hand as you waited for the Uber, and thankfully you didn't have to wait long. You found yourself in front of your apartment door less than 5 minutes later.
Your hands were shaking slightly as you tried to unlock the door. You could feel his erection against your lower back as he pressed against you.
"Baby, unlock that door a little faster or I'm going to kick it down," he said, breathing heavily in your ear from behind you.
"I'm trying, but you're not making this easy, Christopher," you hissed.
He grinned against the skin of your neck, planting kisses and bite marks anywhere he could see.
You finally got the door unlocked and the two of you practically fell inside the apartment. It was reminiscent of your first time together, but his hunger tonight was absolutely unparalleled.
He spun you around and pressed you against the door, lips attacking yours instantly. He wedged his knee between your legs and you gasped as his lips descended to your jaw.
"Chris," you whimpered.
"I've got you, baby," he murmured against the column of your throat. "Gonna make you feel so good."
He gripped your hips and pulled you closer so you were flush to his body. The shift moved your clothed core against his thigh and you moaned at the friction.
He groaned softly. "Use my leg, pretty girl," he moved your hips in a slow rhythm. "That's it, baby."
Your head fell back against the door and you moaned again. "I want you, baby, please," you begged.
"Yeah, sweets? What'cha want?"
"I want you now, Chris. Please. Just fuck me."
He growled lowly. "Anything for you, baby."
He started to take your clothes off, hands tracing the curves he loved so much. He had you completely naked in less than a minute, but the only piece of clothing he allowed you to remove from his body was his shirt.
You watched him as he dropped to his knees in front of you and your eyes widened in surprise. "Baby?"
His eyes flicked up to yours. "Just lean back and let me take care of you."
He grabbed your leg and lifted it over his shoulder, giving him the access he needed to get to your core. He didn't even bother to tease you, diving into you with the hunger of a starving man.
You gasped in pleasure, hand immediately going to his hair, fingers entangling themselves in the thick locks.
Your moans mixed with the salacious sounds coming from between your legs, and you would have been embarrassed if it didn't feel just so damn incredible.
He moaned into your core as he messily slurped up your juices, tongue moving to focus on your clit. He slipped a finger inside of you, followed by another, curling his fingers in a come hither motion.
"Chris!" you cried in pleasure, fingers tightening on his hair.
"You gonna cum for me, baby?"
"Don't stop," you begged.
Chris grinned and went back to work between your thighs, coaxing you to your climax with skilled fingers and mouth.
Your legs began to shake as you reached your high, thighs trying to close around his head. Your voice was nothing but broken moans and whimpers of pleasure.
Chris's hands were the only thing keeping you upright as you came down. He stood up, holding you against him, making sure you didn't fall.
His lips met yours in a searing kiss, hands sliding down to your butt. "Can you jump for me, sweets?" he whispered against your lips.
He held onto your butt as you attempted a jump, his strong arms the only thing ensuring you didn't fall on the floor. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you to the bedroom.
He tossed you onto the bed with a grin. Instead of crawling onto the bed with you, he started to slowly remove his jeans.
"Are you stripping for me, handsome?" you teased lightly.
He grinned wolfishly. "You like it?"
"I love it." You loved everything about him, physically, mentally, emotionally...all of it. The whole package.
He removed his pants completely, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. You eyed the large bulge, mouth watering as you thought about tasting him.
"C'mere," you said softly.
He smiled and crawled onto the bed, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. You pulled him down on top of you, hooked your leg around his hips, and flipped him over.
You straddled his hips, legs spread wide to fit around his width. He looked up at you in slight surprise, not used to you taking charge in the bedroom.
"What'cha doin', gorgeous?"
You smirked at him and slowly moved down his body, allowing yourself space to remove his underwear. You tossed them onto the floor and lowered yourself down to take him into your mouth.
"Fuck--that's it baby," he groaned.
You bobbed your head, tongue tracing the thick vein running down his shaft. You focused attention on his head, eliciting sharp moans from his throat.
Chris's fingers were entangled in your hair and he began to tug on it slightly. "Baby, you gotta stop--I'm--I'm gonna cum."
You moaned around his cock and he groaned in pleasure. He tugged on your hair more harshly, pulling you off his cock. You whined in displeasure, but that quickly turned to a shocked gasp as he flipped you onto your back.
"Sorry, babe, but I wanna cum inside you."
"How can I say no to that?" You pulled him towards you and he kissed your lips roughly.
The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you inhaled sharply. "Please, Chris," you whimpered.
"I've got you, gorgeous."
He started to enter you and your nails dug into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched your tight walls. No matter how many times you had sex, he always stretched you more than you'd ever been stretched before.
He thrust into you, burying himself entirely. He didn't give you time to adjust to his girth before he began to fuck you into the mattress, setting a relentless pace.
You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, your nails buried into his back.
He groaned into your neck. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezing me so nice."
"Chris, I'm--so close," you gasped out.
"I've got you. Let go for me, pretty girl."
Chris picked up his pace a little, thrusts slamming into your sweet spot, sending bright flashes of pleasure through your body.
Your nails raked down his back, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He loved it when you marked him up; he wore them like badges of honor.
"Cum for me baby, I know you're close."
Your moans were loud enough you were certain the neighbors could hear, but you couldn't find it in you to care. You held onto him as your orgasm crashed into you, coming apart with cries of his name.
Your orgasm triggered his and he came with a series of curses and a loud groan of your name, his seed filling you up.
He kissed all over your face and neck as you both came down from your highs. "That's my girl," he whispered. "Did so well for me."
He slowly pulled out and rolled to your side. He kissed you one more time, before getting up to grab a washcloth. When he came back, he cleaned you up gently before crawling back into the bed with you.
You settled in against his chest with a sigh. He pulled you in close and laid a kiss against the top of your head.
You finally had a moment to think about what had happened earlier in the evening and your mind began to race.
Chris seemed to sense your change in demeanor, feeling your body tense in his arms. "You okay, sweets?" he asked softly.
You nodded.
"Hey," he whispered. "Talk to me."
You slowly sat up and turned your body to look at him. You traced the design of one of the tattoos on his chest, eyes watching the movement of your fingers. "So...the song," you began.
"Yeah?"
"I shouldn't read too much into that, should I?"
He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Look at me, pretty girl."
You lifted your eyes to meet his, biting your lip in worry.
He touched your face gently, eyes filled with adoration. "You're so beautiful you oughta be famous," he sang softly. "If I love you too much, I'm sorry."
Your breath caught in your chest and tears welled in your eyes.
"I meant every word, (Y/N)," he murmured. "I know we haven't been together all that long, but I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you."
"Chris..." you whispered.
"You don't have to say anything, sweets, but I wanted you to know how I felt and that I don't wanna hide this anymore. I want the entire world to know I'm yours."
"Kiss me," you said softly.
He smiled and leaned forward to kiss you gently. He poured everything he was feeling into that kiss, and you did the same.
"God, you're so beautiful," he said reverently when he pulled away.
You blushed. "I love you, Chris," you whispered.
His eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"
You nodded. "I wanted to tell you a couple weeks ago, but I didn't want to scare you."
He chuckled lightly. "I thought I was going to scare you."
"I don't scare that easily," you teased.
"Thank god," he said with a smile.
"So...I guess we're public now?"
"I don't wanna hide this anymore, especially if you don't want to."
You shook your head. "I don't like the idea of strangers being in my business, but I love you, so it's worth it."
He pulled you back into him. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he mumbled into your hair.
You laughed and planted a kiss to his chest.
"Seriously, I'm going to say it all the damn time now. You'll get tired of hearing it."
"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing it."
"Good," he kissed your forehead. "'Cause I love you."
You laughed as you curled into him. "I love you too, dork."
He sighed happily. "I don't think I'll get tired of hearing it either."
You settled into him comfortably and traced the words 'I love you' on his chest, just to make sure he knew exactly how you were feeling.
He squeezed you tightly and kissed the top of your head one last time before settling in to sleep. "Sweet dreams, my love."
"Sweet dreams, Chris."
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lcandothisallday · 3 years ago
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Speaking of a urban fic can you do one where jack is in a interview and he gets asked what would he want his next relationship to be like. And he describes Urbans and the readers relationship. Like how they were each others first for everything. And goes into detail of how they been together since high school. Just talking about their cute moments together. Then jacks fans make a edit of urbans and readers relationship. Then jack post it on his story and is like MBN. And like reader is sleep on the couch with jack and urban and they are talking and he’s like that’s my baby man😭💕
BSDFKJSDF I L O V E THIS.
That’s my Girl - Urban Wyatt x f!reader
"Okay so we've discussed your music and your musical process...so let's go into the personal stuff a bit," the interviewer began. "Are you in a relationship?"
Jack shook his head, "nah just focusing on my music and enjoying life," he shrugged.
"Well have you thought about what you want your next relationship to be like?"
Jack had to pause and think about. He stroked his beard with his fingers before he came to a conclusion. "Um yeah actually. My best friend Urban and his girl Y/N--the thing they have is fucking real," he breathed out. "They met in high school and were each other's first for everything and I know I'm not gonna get that cos I'm obviously way past that," he chuckled. "But yeah. A relationship like theirs would be nice."
"What is it about their specific relationship that you like?" the interviewer nagged on.
Jack shrugged, "I guess just the fact that they're still obsessed with each other after all these years," he laughed. "Nah but like its all in their interactions. I can't lie--I'm their biggest shipper and I observe the hell outta their relationship. It's the little things that I want you know? She's kinda shy so if we're like out and she's overwhelmed or wants to tell him something then she'll pull him aside and just like whisper it to him and she's never afraid to tell him anything. Like the trust they built is insane," he explains. "And she's so fucking patient with him--like my boy can definitely be a pain in the ass sometimes but she's his biggest supporter...and they’re so fucking sappy,” Jack said with a playful groan. “He’s always touching her or kissing her...he’s for sure pussywhipped. She’s got him wrapped around her finger but I know he loves it,” he teased before he dramatically looked into the camera with a pointing finger. “I’m calling it now--in less than a year they’re gonna start trying for a baby and they better fucking name it Jack.”
__
After every show, Jack’s fans always hung around the venue’s exists in hopes that he’d step out from there and have a little meet and greet with them. Thankfully, you and Urban were able to bypass that and head into the tour bus without anyone noticing you.
You sat with Urban on the couch waiting for Jack and you both had accidentally fallen asleep. Your head laid against his chest with his head resting on his hand that leaned against the arm rest, while his other arm wrapped tightly around you.
When Jack finally finished up and stepped into the van, he couldn't help but smirk as he saw you and Urban knocked out. He snapped a quick photo and uploaded it to his Instagram story with a caption: “Must be nice”
__
Somehow that interview went viral. No thanks to Jack entertaining his fans too on the topic, the amount of traction both your’s and Urban’s socials got was insane. People craved seeing a happy and healthy couple thrive which both awed you but freaked you the fuck out too.
“Baby...people are...obsessed,” you breathed out to Urban, showing him your phone that had multiple edits of various photos and clips of you and Urban being all cute and coupley. 
Urban let out a smirk before he licked his lips. “Yeah-we’re cute though,” he shrugged but you shook your head in paranoia. “No baby we’re gonna get jinxed. The evil eye Urban...the evil eye exists.”
Urban couldn't help but let out a laugh as he looked at you with a raised brow. “Y/N--that shit doesn’t exist--”
“Yes it does,” you frown. “The car crash you nearly got into--the argument we had yesterday,” you recall. “I'm buying you a necklace and you better start wearing it,” you warn.
Urban smirked as he nodded his head, “okay mamas,” he teased, pulling you onto his lap before he kissed you softly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips.
Despite your fears, you couldn't help but grin, your hands trailing down his chest and abdomen. “I love you too,” you hum, pushing him back against the couch and showing him just how much you meant your words.
__
A few nights later, you had gone out with a few of your girlfriends leaving Jack and Urban alone at their apartment. Jack was busy scrolling through his phone while Urban played on his x-box. 
“Bro the amount of edits made of you and Y/N is getting weird,” Jack chuckled. “I keep getting tagged in em.”
Urban paused his game and set aside his controller before he leaned back on the couch and shrugged. “Y/N is lowkey freaked out by it. Thinks its bad omen,” he laughed.
Jack snorted before he shrugged, “I’d be too.”
Urban paused for a moment before speaking again. “I wanna go ring shopping,” he said, causing Jack’s eyes to widen. “You wanna ask her to marry you?” Jack asked. Urban nodded, “yeah. It’s about fucking time. That’s my girl.”
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yandereaffections · 2 years ago
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I'd like to request A,B,E,L,V with Grell, if that's ok?!
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Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
On an average day grell has you physically held like her prisoner up till she gets dragged back to her duties as a reaper, there's no escaping the love attack when she goes so long without getting to be with you. Of course there are times you can shake grell off you though at the very least she requires her hand to be held
Grell tends to have her own understanding of when she shouldn't add on to how she smothers you, worse case scenario you'll have your whole neck and chest covered in bite marks and hickey's while trapped underneath her weight cuddling into you. Intensity purely depends on how long she's been without you and whether your harmed or not, she's basically a dog with separation anxiety
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
When taunted grell becomes the least stable person in the area, no restraint once so ever she will shred into the rival with her trusty chainsaw in seconds, destroying and slicing through whatever gets in her way, needless to say you shouldn't have to question if she's ever willing to get messy for you.
Grell isn't particularly the best at hiding things from you but good chance you don't know about those she's counted as rivals already meeting their fate, and if you ask her about their death that's mentioned in the news paper she'll simply say she was assigned to retrieve their soul, nothing personal at all.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
It starts off with her being a lil goof for a few months, enjoying your company and simply having fun with maybe a comment on her past life scattered here and there. You can encourage grell that she can tell you anything, and she will,, eventually.
She doesn't think you'll see her in a different light or anything, it's nothing that will change her personality, grell simply doesn't live that life anymore and it's far from gone. Letting you know what turned her to this is quite a story she wants you to know, to be vulnerable with her darling, be patient surely she'll finally take that step
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Grells first interaction with her human interest is acting as gentlemanly as possible while presenting herself as a butler in training, of course when she messes that bit up she'll come back to you as her gloriously red reaper self, not bothering for the formalities of the British anymore and simply being herself around you, as abnormal as that can be.
You can't get rid of her even if you wanted to, a living being catching the eye of a reaper is quite rare and comes with the consequences of not being able to hold any human law against them. She breaks into your home simple to catch up on how your day's been and rant out her frustrations as if you two were always close friends, and when you try to report a break in no one can say they know the person you're talking about. You're stuck with the monster but thankfully she doesn't make it hard to get used to her, especially since she enjoys your company
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
If you plan it out well you could just run away, move to another location far away from the streets of London while she's out doing her usual reaper stuff. You'll be safe and sound for maybe a day or two before he catches hints on where you might be from people's cinematic records, she'll snatch you back to London in due time dear
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