#it is very much not camp. it just clashes.

[hostilemuppet]

todays mirror affirmations are "its okay if the two oranges in your outfit clash bc its a queer run business and you can just say its camp"

#text #it is very much not camp. it just clashes. #ones a neutral orange and the others a very cold orange bordering on pink #and by that i mean depending on the lighting it IS pink #so i might change the jacket. but i have so few open jackets

[thebigbiwolf]

Spittle - Part 1/2

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, succubus magic, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk), more tags will be added later.

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Dubcon (if you squint), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read on AO3: Here

A/N: Remember the dead spider? I remember the dead spider. Anyways, the reception I've been getting on Starvin', Darlin' has me wanting to thank everyone with a one-shot. This got away from me so I went ahead and split it into two parts.

I've never written anything like this and it was significantly more difficult than a multi-chapter fic. I hope everything comes across the way its supposed to! And a huge thank you to my beta @imaginarydromedary for...you know... encouraging me to post this, despite everything.

From what you could tell, there wasn’t much to the apothecary. 

As you push open the dilapidated doors, your first thought is to search for supplies - anything that could help if things went south on your way to the goblin camp. 

Dried herbs hang from the rafters beneath a thin veil of cobwebs, filling your lungs with a pungent clash of scents. Empty bottles lined the shelves along the wall, caked in several months worth of dust. Large chunks of the building were missing where stone met splintered wood, some areas almost entirely overtaken by greenery.

You step over broken shards of pottery, scanning over the floor and countertops for something - anything that may be of use, but to your disappointment, it seems like the shop was entirely ransacked long before your arrival.

You sigh deeply, knowing you’ll likely never hear the end of this from your companions. It was your idea to search the village. You were the one who suggested taking out the goblin scouts, exerting everyones’ energy, and now you’re afraid you’ll have very little to show for it.

You catch a glint of gold, an object reflecting the sun's rays beneath a pile of rubble. You kneel down to brush away the surrounding debris, thankful for even the smallest promise of coin before your hands catch on… some sort of serrated edge?

You pull at it, and it easily comes loose. It's a thin, rectangular block, just barely larger than the length of your hand. You wipe away some of the dirt with your sleeve, revealing an intricately designed foil wrapping underneath.

As you speculate what this might be, you hear footsteps approaching from behind, light and familiar. You turn to face the elf with a smirk.

“You’re supposed to be the stealthy one.” You chide at him, playfully, “Or has my blood put a little skip in your step?”

Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been here the entire time, watching you fumble around in the dirt.” 

Crimson eyes study you, then the object you’re holding. He places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side with a raised brow. “Is that what you’ve dragged us all the way here for?”

“First of all,” you waggle a finger at him, “You’re especially grumpy when you’re tired. I’ll have to make a note to prioritize your beauty rest. Second, I haven’t finished looking around, but check this out.”

You hand the bar to him as you stand. The cool skin of his fingers brush against your own, and you’re irritated with the way your heart skips at the brief contact. Why did the one man you found attractive in your camp have to be such a primadonna? And such a huge pain in the ass? 

Astarion’s eyes scan over the textured paper with suspicion, angling it towards the light to get a better look. The golden wrapping is stamped with an image of red lips On the back, letters twist and curve in a language you don't recognize, following a single circular pattern where they meet in the center. You’ve never seen anything like this, neither in your travels, nor within the city walls of Baldur’s Gate.

“Where did you find this?” 

You shrug, then point to the pile next to you. “It was buried right there.” 

He silently stares at the foil, mouth pursed, until your patience begins to wear thin.

“Well, can you read it or not?”

His nose scrunches. “Of course I can’t read it. It’s written in Infernal.”

That’s… odd. Why would an ordinary apothecary sell goods made by devils? Or, worse, for devils. Unless, of course, it was some sort of marketing trick, perhaps a play on the phrase ‘sinfully sweet’, or some other cringeworthy branding.

You take it back, turning it over in your hands before tearing at the corner of the wrapping. It's sectioned into dark, rich squares, and smells indisputably like chocolate.

“It looks like candy.”

“An excellent observation.” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, can we go? We’ve spent more than enough time here already.”

You roll your eyes and stuff it into your bag, setting off for camp, vampire in tow.

–

During dinner, you decide not to tell the others about what you found, knowing Astarion’s likely already forgotten the event. You set down your empty plate, thanking Gale for tonight’s meal. He smiles at you and bids you goodnight as you excuse yourself to your tent. 

You pick up your rucksack, thinking fondly of the dessert that awaits you inside. Having lived at the beck and call of your companions for weeks on end, you can’t help but smile at the idea of selfishly indulging in a small treat like this.

You tear open the rest of the wrapping and snap off one of the squares, immediately popping one into your mouth. It melts - buttery in texture, with a smokey, slightly bitter flavor. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten something so rich. Maybe weeks of the same rations have made you easier to impress, but this felt especially notable.

As you break off a second piece, a strange tingling sensation begins to spread across your lips - a pleasant buzzing that starts at your neck and spreads down through your chest. 

Strange, but not entirely unwelcome. You’ve heard of such inebriating chocolates, ones laced with alcohol or species of flowers that numb one’s senses for a short while. All harmless, of course, and you don’t have watch tonight. You may as well enjoy yourself. If worst comes to worst, Shadowheart is just outside with an assortment of spells and potions. Always better to ask for forgiveness.

It only takes you minutes to finish half the bar. You set the rest next to your bedroll for later and turn to blow out your candles, enjoying the lingering physical effects of the chocolate. Your skin feels flushed and delightfully warm as you settle down for the night.

When sleep finally takes you, it's dreamless, at first. Your consciousness sways, floating in an empty abyss, until colors begin to bleed onto the blank canvas of your mind.

A trickle of red morphs into the shape of familiar eyes, piercing you with their intensity..

Droplets of white spatter over a dark background, diffusing, blending into whisps. They curl and twist before settling into soft, coiffed fibers. 

Hair , you recognize immediately, his hair . His eyes.

Astarion. 

His image fully takes form, as if it had been waiting for you to make the connection before entirely revealing itself. 

He reaches out and seizes you, grabbing painfully at your hips as you crash into his body, hands exploring you - tight, possessive, squeezing at every inch of exposed skin before settling on the curve of your ass. He digs into your flesh with the blunt edge of his nails.

His lips press hot, wet kisses to your throat, mouthing just below the ear, before dragging his tongue along your nape and sucking, hard . You whine at the pressure, eliciting a grin from the elf, so characteristically pleased with the pathetic little noise he’s managed to pull from you.

“You thought sleeping would allow you to escape this - to escape me , unscathed?” He growls against your skin, his voice almost unrecognizable - as if it’s layered beneath a lighter, somehow more arrogant, feminine one.

“No, no, no. Wake up, darling. You’re in for a very long night.”

–

You startle awake, gasping - loud, labored breaths struggling to make use of the unbearably thin air. The edges of your tent bleed in and out of focus, spinning at a nauseating pace as you attempt to recollect yourself.

You wipe at the sweat collecting on your brow, the muscles of your arm heavy and aching, and find that your skin is absolutely drenched. 

Hot. Why is everything so hot? 

It's as if you're being cooked alive beneath your blankets, strangled beneath the furs. You throw them off; normally soft to the touch, the fibers now only worsen the prickling beneath your skin.

Could this be some sort of illness? A fever? 

No, this doesn’t make sense. Everything feels off. 

Fleeting thoughts of Astarion cross your mind - quick flashes of a sinful smile that was not his own.

It didn’t quite match the one you’d silently come to admire, and now that you think of it, the hunger in his gaze was much too intense for the reserved elf. 

His hands, his mouth, the way he touched you -

Your abdomen cramps, bringing your thoughts to a screeching halt.

A stabbing, visceral pain; a knife plunging into your organs. It overwhelms you, forces your body to curl into itself. You hold your pelvis, grunting, and grasp at your sheets. Tears sting the corner of your eyes.

This is - well, you have no idea what this is. 

You can’t think past the pounding in your head, the throbbing in your midsection. You're compulsively twisting, writhing, begging the gods for some sort of reprieve, but it's then when you make the most mortifying discovery of the night.

You’re soaked .

N ot just your smallclothes, which may have been understandable given your strange dreams, but through your damned pants. Not even the sheets were spared. 

“What  in the hells…?” 

You run your fingers over yourself, only intending to confirm the horrifying reality of your situation - that this is not, in fact, some sick, perverted nightmare, but the lightest touch sets off every nerve. 

You wail at the sensation: one massive wave of bliss giving way to several small jolts of pain. 

Pleasure to the point of agony.

The shock of the sudden orgasm courses from your sex through every limb, clenching and releasing pitiful, warm slick. It leaks freely out of you into your already thoroughly ruined underwear. 

Your heart pounds. You stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, toes curled, limbs twitching, waiting for your body to settle. 

After a minute or so, your breathing evens, and the thick haze surrounding your thoughts begins to lift just slightly, along with the suffocating heat. 

But something within you knows this isn’t the end - knows this isn’t enough . A desperation lurks beneath the surface that you can’t quite name. It screams at you. You need more.

‘Aw…’ A familiar, feminine voice prods at your mind. You quickly recognize her, the woman from your dreams who wore Astarion’s image.  

‘All alone, are we? Empty and needing to be filled? Doesn’t that hurt?’

It does. It aches unlike anything you’ve ever known. The lingering buzz of your orgasm just barely quells the worsening cramps, and they’re beginning to rear their ugly head again not minutes later.

You choke out a sob. “Wh- why are you doing this? What do you want?”

Sharp, wicked laughter fills your head, echoing off the walls of your skull. ‘I’m not doing anything, dear. Just enjoying the show.’ She hisses, ‘I told you, it’s going to be a very long night.’

You must be hallucinating. This fever - whatever this is, is simply cauterizing your senses, or possibly interacting with the tadpole? But the tadpole doesn’t speak, not like this. Never so clearly. Not with words.

Think, please. There has to be a reason this -

“Is everything alright?” Shadowheart raps on the canvas of your tent. “I heard a yelp. Are you hurt?”

Shit.

‘Ooh, this one might do!’  You feel an unwelcome… eagerness flood you.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You try not to panic. 

Under no circumstances should she or anyone else come in here.

The best strategy may be to ignore her - pretend you’re still sleeping. It seems like a good plan, but before you have a chance to follow through with it, another sharp contraction hits. This one is somehow even worse than the ones before. 

You pull your sheets up to your mouth to stifle your whine, but the half elf’s ears are sharper than most. “I’m coming in.”

She opens the flap to your tent and gasps when she sees you there - skin flushed pink, doubled over and covered in sweat. 

“Gods, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” Her hand reaches out towards you. 

Without thinking, you swat it away with your own. Your skin tingles at the contact, and the essence of a smile crosses over the threshold into your mind. The intruder giggles with satisfaction.

“Don’t,” you plead, “Don’t touch me.”

She scans over you, taking in your humiliating state. Her face twists with concern. “I need to know if you’re feverish. Please. You look awful.” 

‘Well, I think you look delectable.’

You groan.

At this point, you know it’s no use fighting this thing on your own. You go back and forth on whether you want to tell her the whole truth, about the voice in your head and its influence on your body, but the idea mortifies you into silence. 

Regardless, a cleric is likely your best chance of fixing this literal mess, so you nod, close your eyes, and brace yourself.

Shadowheart’s palm meets your forehead. It’s somehow worse than you anticipated. Even the simple, chaste touch sends you reeling, as if her soft hands are caressing your entire body. Flashes of heat wash over you, burning your skin, threatening to pull you back under another wave of ecstasy. 

It’s too much. You try your hardest to suppress a moan, but the muffled sound manages to escape from between your tightened lips, pitiful and broken.

The disembodied voice squeals with delight.

She quickly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. “Apologies. I can confirm your temperature is… elevated, but the rest…” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You want to scream, cry - anything to release your frustration, but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to risk making any more unsavory noises.

“I believe I can give you some relief by treating the fever, but I’ll have to consult the others on the rest. This doesn’t look like any ordinary sickness.”

Consult the others? No. Gods, no. Nobody can know about this. Is she mad?

You intend to protest, beg her not to share this with anyone, tell her whatever death awaits you on the other side of this would be preferable, but she’s speaking an incantation before you have the chance.

A bright, green aura envelopes you, cooling your skin and ever so slightly easing the cramps. With the pain dulled, it's as though you can finally think again. 

You want to laugh. This situation is so utterly ridiculous that you’d find it hilarious, were it anyone else, but with the modicum of relief comes exhaustion - eyelids heavy, vision blurring with weariness.

“Get some rest. We’ll figure this out.” 

Her reassuring words are the last thing you hear before you’re overcome by darkness.

#bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #astarion acunin #posting this was like pulling teeth im gonna disappear for a while #my fics #spittle

[thekissofaphrodite]

Ms. Paramour

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Nike!Reader

Summary: Capture the flag might have been your favourite game after what happened between you and clarisse.

Warnings: Kissing, Shy, and Lovesick Clarisse <33

Author's note: THERE WAS THIS SWEET PERSON WHO ASKED FOR A CLARISSE FF WHERE THE READER PINNED CLARISSE DOWN DURING CAPTURE THE FLAG AND THEY STARTED KISSING, I WAS ABOUT TO REPLY TO THAT REQUEST BUT I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT. WHOEVER THAT WAS IM SO SORRY IF WASN'T ABLE TO REPLY TO YOUR REQUEST!!

——

Clarisse La Rue was a bitch.

You can't really describe how much you hate her, not after she embarrassed you at camp years ago. You were a newbie, Before your godly parent, Nike, had claimed you, Clarisse and her little gang had bullied you relentlessly. It all started when your first three months at camp came by, and you were sitting at the mess hall, chewing your food, and daydreaming about your godly parent and what they look like.

Then, a group of campers from the ares cabin (Clarisse's half siblings) handed you a pair of gloves, it was a beautiful pair of gloves, It fits you perfectly, They told you that you can use it once the games had started. It was the very first time someone was kind to you, that's why you accepted it happily, and admired It.

Suddenly, Clarrise and her gang grabbed you, Their grips were tight, they then dragged you all the way to the lake, before they could throw you, They snatched the gloves the kind campers gave you and threw you into the lake. The water was freezing cold.

You gasped and resurfaced, Clarisse and her gang laughed, Just before they were about to leave, Clarisse's eyes caught yours for a moment.

——

You adjusted your blue helmet for the 5th time, the irritating smell of copper filling your nose, making you scrunch your nose in disgust.

Luke and Annabeth then appeared behind you, With their swords at hand, They were discussing the plan before Chiron announced the game.

"Am I clear?" Annabeth asked, Luke nodded and shot you a glance. You were peaking near the trees, trying to take a look at Clarisse who was currently yelling at her teammates.

Annabeth cleared her throat and Luke nudged you, you snapped out of your thoughts a nodded.

——

"Let the games begin" Chiron's voice boomed as Campers let out a cry on the field.

The reds were first to attack, their swords and shields clashed with the blues, The Ares campers were taking the lead, Making blue campers fall one by one.

You then sneaked away, slowly going to the base of the reds, You managed to fight off some campers before eventually reaching the point of the red team.

Clarisse stood proudly and confidently near the flag, her electric spear ready in hand and her posture ready to attack, you snuck up behind her before jumping at her, You wrapped your arms around her neck and made her fall, She groaned, Her helmet was now on the ground, revealing her well kept hair, She turned around swiftly, ready to attack, but you could've sworn you saw her eyes soften the moment she saw you, Nevertheless, She hurled her spear towards you, But you dodged it easily.

"You've got guts, Y/n" She whispered, She then attacked again, but this time, you managed to kick her feet and made her lose balance, You immediately went on top of her pining her with all your strength. Clarisse was now under you, Her breath was ragged, the red and blue helmet you two once wore were now on the ground, You met her eyes and it darted on your pink lips.

You didn't know what you were doing, Hell, Why is this even happening? Without thinking, you slammed your lips against hers, She immediately wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer, The kiss clarisse returned was much more hungrier, as if this were her starving days.

Clarisse let out a soft moan, followed by a soft bite on your lower lip, Feeling the need to breath, you were the first one to pulled away, still panting heavily without saying a word, A string of saliva still connected you two.

She was the first one to break the silence.

"I love you," She blurted out. "Then, you smiled, a sincere one that made her melt.

Now, Clarisse La Rue, that terrifying daughter of Ares who could kill anyone with just one look, was blushing, actually blushing.

You never knew, But Clarisse La Rue, Secretly had a crush on you the moment you stepped inside Camp Half Blood.

——

After seeing you with those cursed gloves that her halfsiblings gave you, Clarisse's eyes went red with fury.

Clarisse gripped her half sibling, Jill's hair tightly, Almost pulling it out of her scalp, Jill was the one who asked the Hecate cabin to lend her some powder that can cause any parts of your body burn like hell, After knowing that. Clarisse had enough.

She pushed Jill to the wall, Her other half siblings cowering with fear, Clarisse pulled threw the gloves at Jill's face, No one saw clarisse THIS mad, If looks could kill, Jill would be 6 feet deep with maggots entering in and out of her skin.

"You did this? huh? Do you know how injured she could be if the poison in those cursed gloves you gave her spread? SHE COULD END UP DEAD." Screamed Clarisse. Jill was now crying, apologising profusely. The reason why she threw you into the lake is to prevent the poison from spreading.

Not even 30 minutes inside the ares cabin, Clarisse left with her little gang, Her halfsiblings bruised with purple marks and blood.

Clarisse never hated you, All the things she had ever done was to save you from those bullies.

Like that one time that she 'accidentally' bumped into you while you were holding a plate of blueberry cheesecake from the mess hall. Some brats from the Hephaestus cabin had the audacity to secretly add dead insects without you nothing, She made you fall so that you can't eat those nasty things, As you left the mess hall with a frown, she shot the hephaestus children with a glare that sent them away.

——

After that heated kiss, You got up and kissed clarisse again, with a wink, she gestured at the red flag, You smiled and grabbed the flag, Screaming in joy as you called the blue Team. For the first time, the red team watched, Horrified, as Clarisse stood in the middle of the battlefield, smiling widely as the blue team swayed the red team's flag.

But if they knew what really happened, they would definitely be in their right minds judging her.

Ms. Clarrise La Rue, The Paramour.

A paramour is a lover, and often a secret one you're not married to. So it's best not to kiss and make eyes at your paramour in public unless you want to be the centre of a lot of gossip.

A/N:

I DID MY BEST. I DO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS. THIS WAS REQUESTED BY SOMEONE, BUT I FORGOT WHO 😔🤞🤞🤞

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn #clarrise pjo

[sycamoregirlsworld]

I Can See You- L. Castellan

“what would you do if i went to touch you now?” -Taylor Swift

Luke x Fem! reader

slightly mature? idk

Early morning training wasn’t something many campers enjoyed doing.

Most of the kids at camp would much prefer staying in their cabins until the very last minute. Wrapped in their covers until they just had to go to training.

Luke and (Y/n) we’re not those people. Well— it was more like they couldn’t be those people.

Their sparring sometimes got a bit… competitive. Too many campers had complained about it, so the pair decided that they would start to spar early in the morning.

It’s not like they were complaining. Being alone provided a better environment for them.

“Gods, Luke.” (Y/n) breathed out as she was forced onto defense, blocking his jabs with her twin swords.

Sweat glistened on their foreheads as they clashed blades, the metallic echoes filling the air. Luke's brown eyes never left (Y/n)’s form, enamored with the way she fought.

While his fighting style was quick and agressive, she fought gracefully and her moves were calculated.

“C’mon sweetheart, is this all you’ve got?” Luke teased as he attempted to strike her arm.

“Fuck off, Luke.” She grunted and parried his strike.

She had always been a bit too competitive, and it got even worse when it came to Luke.

He winked before swinging his sword towards her, the steel side of backbiter unknowingly facing her.

Catching the silver gleam of the steel, (Y/n) quickly dropped and rolled under his legs.

“Steel side is out, stupid.” She huffed and kicked the back of his knees.

Luke grunted as he stumbled forward. He caught his balance and whipped around to glare at her.

“That was a cheap move, babe.” He breathed out.

Before she could blink, Luke had thrusted his sword out (this time making sure the steel was not facing her) effectively catching her off guard.

(Y/N) stumbled backward, her swords falling out of her hands. Her heart pounding, and not just from the shock of the move but also from the Luke way look was looking at her.

She found herself on the ground, the force the the disarm sending her sprawling. Luke crouched next to her, his eyes now a mix of pride and something deeper.

Unable to break eye contact, Luke lifted (Y/N)'s chin with the tip of his sword, their faces inches apart. (Y/N) bit her lip as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her breathing unsteady.

The cold metal of his sword should’ve made her scared, if he moved it a bit it could’ve pierced her skin, but instead all (Y/N) could think about was the fact that if she moved her face just a bit her lips would’ve been on his…

The tension hung thick in the air, their faces were both flushed from their sweat and close proximity.

"I could have defeated you," (Y/N) teased, her voice a mix of challenge and vulnerability.

Luke's lips curved into a half-smile, "Maybe, but where's the fun in that?"

His hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back slightly.

“You look hot like this.” He mumbled, his sword still under her chin.

(Y/n) averted her gaze from him, her face burning brighter.

“You’re such a perv.” She chewed at her bottom lip.

Luke nudged her chin with his sword softly. “Look at me, pretty girl.” He pouted playfully.

Luke discarded his sword with a clatter, his urgency evident as he pulled (Y/n) onto his lap, their lips colliding in a fervent, heated kiss.

With one hand tangled in her hair and the other gripping her waist possessively, he drew her closer, igniting an ache within her. (Y/n) gasped softly, before surrendering to the kiss.

She threaded her fingers through his tousled brown locks and tugged softly, eliciting a soft moan from him.

Luke's kiss was rough, and the lingering scent of his sweat heightened her desire.

With a yearning for more, she instinctively began to move against him, seeking the friction she so desperately craved— until a sudden realization pulled her back to reality.

"Luke—" Her voice faltered as their eyes met, his pretty, brown eyes were half-lidded and intoxicated with desire. His tousled hair and flushed cheeks, saliva-slicked lips only fueled her longing. "We can't... we're still on the training grounds..." She hesitated, torn between restraint and the burning need coursing through her veins.

"So what?" Luke's husky voice sent shivers down her spine as his hands began to explore beneath her shirt, his touch setting her ablaze with desire. “It’s still early.”

Glancing around, she considered their surroundings. It was early, and the ache between her legs had gone unattended for weeks…

"Fuck it," she muttered, her resolve crumbling as she pushed Luke down, surrendering to the intoxicating allure of their forbidden passion.

This was why they trained early.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #aesthetic

[axelsagewrites]

Hello can u please do a Robb stark smut where they r in his tent at war they r married and it’s like cute playful like a break from reality and the war going on they they r just some teenagers in love

Robb Stark*I Miss You

Pairing: Robb x F!Reader

Summary: Robb's wife misses spending quality time with her husband when the war is raging and draws him back into bed

Warnings: Smut, piv sex, fingering, mostly fluffy (ig?) giggly sex,18+

Word count: 2021

Requested

Masterlist Here

The days were long, and the nights were not much better. The camp was largely asleep apart from some men keeping watch and of course your husband. Robb was sat at a table looking over battle plans as the candles flickered, lighting the dim tent. Despite your pleas for him to sleep he was still awake. You rolled over onto your front to watch as he studied the paper, how his jaw line looked in the soft candlelight and how his curls perfectly framed his face. His soft lips were slightly parted though occasionally he would nip the bottom one between his teeth in concentration.

You were perched half up on your arms, your head tilted as you admired your husband who eventually shot you a side way glance, “Are you okay love?” he asked, his eyes flickering back to the page.

“I miss you,”

Robb lifted his head, his eyebrows knitted in confusion, “I’m right here sweetheart,”

You ignored his words as you began to sit up more, “I miss you,” you repeated.

This time Robb turned in his chair to face you, ignoring the battle plans for a moment, “I’m right here love,” he said again but you grinned as you finally had his attention.

Your feet quickly padded across the tent floor to stand behind him, your arms draping over his shoulders and your nose nuzzling into his neck causing the boy to laugh, “I miss you,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“I’m right here dove,” Robb giggled, his hands moving to pull you around and into his lap straddling him. “How can you miss me when you have me?” he asked and you pouted, your head falling onto his chest. Robb laughed as he began to stroke your hair, “I’ll be done soon,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your head.

You sighed, pressing yourself closer to your husband, his arms wrapping around you tighter, “I just wish for five minutes where we didn’t have to think about this war,” you whispered. You felt Robbs chest heave as he let out a heavy sigh.

Robbs hands found your face, pulling it out of his chest. His hands held your cheeks as he forced your eyes to meet his, “I miss you too,” Robb confessed, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You looked into his eyes which were swelling with emotion.

For a moment you just wanted to be a husband and wife not a king or queen. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his as you had done a hundred times, but this time was like a race you were desperate to win. Robb’s hands fell from your cheeks to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze, which caused you to giggle into the kiss. Robb couldn’t stop his own laughter at your giggles.

His lips were curled into a perfect smile as he pressed messy kisses to yours, teeth clashing. Your hands trailed up to his curls, getting lost in the masses, “You have such pretty hair,” you smiled into the kiss.

Robb grinned as he stole another kiss, “Not as pretty as you love,” he praised. “You happy you got my attention now love?” he chuckled.

“Very,” you chirped as you got off his lap.

Robb quickly leapt from his chair, catching up and grabbing you around your waist from behind, “Where do you think you’re going?” His teeth nipped your ear before his lips fell to your neck. You giggled as his nose nuzzled into your skin and his teeth left tiny nips along your neck. “You wanted my attention now you’ve got it,” Robb spun you around to face him, your hands grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself.

His lips returned to your neck trailing kisses to your collar bones. You felt his smile in his kisses and laughed from the feeling. “Robb,” you said as you began to tug on his tunic, “I think you might be overdressed,”

Robb laughed as he pulled back from your skin, his eyes roaming your frame. A thin shift covered your body though did nothing to hide it while he still had his trousers, tunic, and undershirt on. “You think love? Maybe you could help me,” his eyes had the same spark in them they had on your wedding night.

You made quick work of his tunic before turning your attention to his trousers, helping him loosen them and letting him shrug them off. Robb was nothing but gentle with you which is why you let out a small yelp when he pushed you by your shoulders to fall on the bed of furs. “Hey!” you whined as you put on your best angry face.

It did not fool Robb who stood above you laughing, “Sorry sweetheart,” Robb quickly pulled his undershirt over his head, now fully exposed, before he began to crawl over you, “Let me make it up to you,” Robb was now settled above you, his lips falling to press kisses under your jaw as he began to trail them down your body.

You hummed as you pretending to consider his idea but giggled when his hand grazed your thigh, leading a feather light trail up your skin making it tingle at his touch. His hand arrived at your breast which he took into his hand and squeezed. You couldn’t stop the whine that fell from your lips.

His mouth had now reached your breasts, his path interrupted by your shift. “May I?” Robb asked as his fingers trailed the neckline of the fabric. You sat up and allowed him to pull it off your body, a blush flushing your face as his eyes roamed your body, “You’re so perfect,” Robb said before his eyes returned to your face. He laughed when he noticed your shy attempts to avoid his gaze, “We’re married and you’re still so shy,” Robbs finger began to trail around your nipple that hardened more under his touch.

“Shut up,” you giggled, pushing his chest but he didn’t even budge, “You’re so mean to me,”

Robb rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your pouted lips, “and you’re so dramatic love,” he teased, his lips falling to capture your other nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled round the perked bud, and you moaned at the feeling.

His other hand began to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. Your hand reached for his hair, gently running through it before gripping his curls when his teeth began to graze your nipple, a wet patch growing in between your thighs, “Fuck Robb,” you moaned.

He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop, a teasing grin placed on his lips, “Yes love?” he asked.

Your hands gripped his curls tighter, “I need you,”

Robb’s spare hand trailed your body, his fingers leaving goosebumps on your skin, before he began to run up a finger up your folds. You moaned at the sensation as Robb dipped his fingers in, “I love how wet you get for me,” he praised, his lips falling back to kiss your breast as you moaned, “and those pretty sounds you’re making,”

Finally, he slid two fingers into your wet core causing your breath to catch in your throat as he stretched you. He placed sloppy kisses to your breast and neck, leaving hickeys below where he knew your dress would cover. Once your body relaxed, he began to slowly curl his fingers, moving them gently in and out of your soaked cunt.

“You like that?” Robb asked in between leaving love bites to your chest.

you felt your stomach flutter and begin to tense up as he repositioned his hand so his thumb would begin to massage your cunt. “Yes,” you whined, “Please don’t stop,” your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sensations overtake you. His slow pumping and his assault on your chest left you a moaning mess under his touch. When his lips captured your nipple again, sucking gently on the peaked bud, you felt your cunt begin to squeeze around his fingers.

Robb ignored the cramp that began in his hand as he felt your body tense, your walls squeezing him. He tried to muffle the whiny moan that rippled from your mouth with his own lips, groaning into the kiss as your walls squeezed him tighter. The wave washed over you hard as you came crashing down around his fingers.

You whined, lips chasing his, when he removed his from yours. Robb kissed your throat before his eyes fell back on your face. You were breathless beneath him, and he enjoyed every moment, “I want to fuck you so bad,” he confessed.

Your eyelashes batter for a moment before your lips reached up to pull his into a brief but hungry kiss, “Do it then,” you said,

One of Robb’s hands shot to grab your hip, the other grabbing the base of his cock as he began to line up to your entrance that was already prepared for him. He ran his tip up the length of your folds, slowly pushing in and stretching you more than his fingers had. There was a slight burn, but it was softened by his affectionate kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

Robb paused for a moment; his eyes screwed shut as he eased into you. He held himself in place, his eyes opening and looking to you for permission. You pulled his head down to yours, capturing his lips, as you began to grind your hips up into his. As soon as Robb had your permission, he began to roll his hips to fill you deeper, pumping his cock into you at a slow and steady pace while keeping his lips on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss as his cock filled you completely. “Faster,” you panted, breaking the kiss.

Robb didn’t need to be told twice as his fingers dug into your hips, biting at your flesh, as he quickened his thrusts which send a wave of moans through your throat. Soft grunts fell from Robbs lips in between compliments and praises the noises you made and how you felt around him.

Robb removed one hand to lean over you, grabbing a pillow to shove under your hips. He gripped your hips, pulling them up slightly, and his cock began to hit new deeper positioning causing a white-hot feeling to spread through your stomach. This time Robb didn’t attempt to conceal your moans. He used one hand to hold himself up, licking the fingers on the other one to rub sloppy circles into your clit.

The feeling in your stomach grew at his touch and your fingers began to claw lines down his strong muscular back and shoulders. Robb sped up more as his peak approached causing you to grip his shoulders for some type of stability. He did his best to hold his own off as he chased yours.

As he felt your walls clench around his cock he almost came on the spot, “Fuck love if you don’t cum I will,” he groaned as his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. The knot had returned to your stomach, and it came undone when he his lips found your neck once again. Robb managed to ride out your peak before spilling inside you, his body heaving as he came. He shuddered as he emptied himself, his body tensing, before almost collapsing on top of you in a sweaty mess.

Robb managed to roll off you, both of you now on your backs staring at the ceiling, “That was amazing,” he panted. You nodded, equally out of breath from it all.

You took his hand into yours, raising it to your lips to kiss the back of it. “I should miss you more often,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark fluff #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got #got imagine #robb got #robb stark x reader #request #game of thrones smut #robb stark smut

[pkmnprofloblolly]

Hello! Trainer from Alola here, big fan of your work. I was wondering; is there any evidence of any legendary pokemon being related to other pokemon? For example, does Rayquaza share any DNA with other dragon pokemon? (I know it would be extremely difficult to get any rayquaza DNA fhshfjd) Or are pokemon like that entirely their own species?

the answer is, as with many things on this blog.. it depends!

"legendary pokemon" aren't really a cohesive category like, say, a type or a taxonomic group. the only common factors are that they tend to be very rare and that they have legends about them. as our examples, let's use two groups of hoenn legendary pokemon: latios and latias, and groudon, kyogre, and rayquaza.

latios and latias (like other pairs such as nidoqueen and nidoking, or volbeat and illumise, latios and latias are sexually dimorphic members of the same species) are indeed related to other pokemon- they're birds! specifically, they're in the auk family, which are a group of generally stout, seafaring birds like guillemots and puffins. this may seem strange- the latis appear to have wings and arms, and no legs, very unlike birds. however, if we take a look at their skeleton, the connection becomes much more obvious:

what we generally interpret as arms are actually the lati's legs, the thighs of which are obscured by flesh and feathers. while they use their wings to steer and for some lift, the latis generally stay aloft with their psychic powers rather than traditional flight, which is why they can hover in place. this has freed up their legs for use in manipulating objects, and they are rarely seen standing on their feet. because they mostly rely on hovering, their legs no longer have the strength to hold their large bodies up for very long.

these pokemon are indeed exceptionally rare, having very low population numbers in only a few regions, and spending most of their time over open ocean. like many pelagic seabirds, they breed on only a few small islands, like alto mare off the johto region and southern island off hoenn's south coast. their populations are on the upswing, though, in large part due to concentrated conservation efforts on those islands. point being, though, they are indeed just animals. rare, powerful animals, but animals nonetheless.

many legendary pokemon fall into this camp. articuno, zapdos, and moltres, lugia and ho-oh, heatran, and various others.

.

conversely, the so-called weather trio of hoenn: groudon, kyogre, and rayquaza. these three are even more rarely seen than the latis, only having been sighted in recent times during their clash in hoenn nearly two decades ago. despite the three's resemblance to other living pokemon, as far as we know they are entirely unrelated to any known animals, or even any other life on earth.

this is known because evidence of these pokemon have been found dating back over 3 billion years ago, that is to say over a billion years before multicellular life even existed. gigantic fragments of footprints attributed to groudon have been sighted alongside some of the earliest fossils we know of of early bacteria. modern physical samples from these pokemon- the extremely few that have ever been recovered- have never resulted in any dna evidence, and appear in structure much more similar to inorganic matter.

as it stands, it appears these pokemon arose some time early (relatively speaking) after the earth formed, being (as opposed to natural living organisms) animate representations of the forces of nature themselves. a similar condition is often assumed for some other grandiose legendary pokemon, such as dialga and palkia, though much less tangible evidence exists for their presence in prehistoric time, so this is mostly an assumption based on their infrequent appearances & legends surrounding their origins.

#Anonymous #art #latias #latios #pokemon #pkmn irl #speculative biology #kyogre #groudon #rayquaza #pkmn

[spcewild]

SHANE WALSH (SMUT!) HEADCANONS

(A/N sorry I haven't posted in a long time! I wanted to give you guys something so make up for it, and I've been watching TWD a lot recently and am absolutely inlove with Jon Bernthal 🫶)

Warnings: SMUT!!!, Kinks, Rough!Shane, Hair pulling, bruising/marks, public sex, etc.

• Shane Walsh, the man who would jump at the chance to brat tame you the second you said the words, "make me"

• Shane, the man who would never admit it, but LOVES when you leave his neck full of your lipstick stains, but would immediately punch anyone who would dare point them out.

• That man, Shane, who would dig his fingers so roughly in your hair, he would have you screaming his name

• Oh that man, the man you loved so dearly, and how much love you too could feel when he would tenderly kiss your neck, all the way down to your stomach, making sure no part of you was left untouched.

• The way he would hold you so gently, cherishing every moment, the way that clashes with his rough thrusts he would make into you, each one going deeper each time.

• That same way he would bite down onto your shoulder when he came so deep inside of you, his hold around you tightening ever so slightly

• But even the risk of getting caught only made him even more turned on. What if someone in the group were to see you like this? All ruined just for him, it drives him crazy in all the right ways.

• What rarely would ever faulter was the way he left bruises and hickies all over your body, sometimes even hiding clothes that were longer and easier to hide said marks; making you having to wear the shortest shorts and a tank top after that night he littered marks all over your body, making everyone stare when you walked around camp.

• Even then, that same man, that same Shane, would never even hesitate when you asked him to kiss those same marks, most of the time; doing it without even having to ask. Just feeling his lips against those purplish red marks he made on you, as if making a mental picture in his mind.

A/N: I hope you guys liked this! Ik I don't write smut very often so feel free to leave feedback! <3

I also updated my masterlist if anyone is interested in requesting!

(More info: Fandoms/Characters)

REQUESTS: OPEN

#fanfic #headcanon #oneshot #writers on tumblr #x reader #spotify #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh x you #rick grimes #walking dead #smut #the walking dead smut #shane walsh smut

[eimids]

NSFW alphabet: Lucy Bronze

All letters

Enjoy this one because i decided to be nice and do all the letters ;)

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

It really depends. After a quickie she most likely will grab your ass and ask if you need anything. But if it's even a bit more rough than usual, she will get you to bath, make sure you eat and drink, and do pretty much anything you ask for her to do.

B: Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like Lucy loves her muscles, especially her abs. She loves to see you grind on them, lick them and do all the nasty thoughts in her head. But overall muscles are her favorite part of herself.

For you she loves you ass. She is an ass kinda girl and will grab or smack it any chance she gets. She will gladly put her hand in the back pocket of your jeans.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting perso

Lucy loves eating you out. She could have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. She will lick you clean and will not complain at all.

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

Not a secret to you, but it took her a while to tell you this. She likes to be tied up every once in a while. 90% of the time she will top you, but sometimes in vulnerable moments, she wants to give you the control and be a good girl.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucy is as experienced as they come. She has had one night stands, girlfriends and even a threesome once so she definitely knows what she does. She could make you see stars in just few minutes.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Lucy loves to fuck you from behind. (Probably comes from her love towards your ass). Seeing you on your hands and knees will make her go feral.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Lucy isn't very humorous during sex. She is more serious and she has her mission to make you feel good. Of course there are times when you both are giggling and your teeth are clashing together, cause you laugh so much, but more often she is quite serious.

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

Lucy shaves occasionally but doesn't really care. If someone won't sleep with her because of some hair, then that's their problem.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

She loves being close to you. She loves to feel every part of your body. Especially after, she will cuddle you naked just to feel close to you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

If she is away on a camp or a match, she does not want you to touch yourself without her permission. Only she has the right to make you feel good. She, on the other hand, will get herself off easily when ever she wants by just watching some photos of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I feel like Lucy would definitely have a breeding kink. She will tell you in the middle of the deed how she want's her babies in you and when she cums, she will paint your inner walls so you will be full of her.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

She will have you anywhere she can, but her favorite is always going to be the bedroom where she can take her time with you.

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

She is horny 24/7. Just seeing you will turn her on and she pretty much would fuck you at any given time. But especially seeing you in her jerseys will make her want to fold you over and fuck you senseless. You have sex with her at least three times a week.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

She would never share you with anyone. She is possessive and jealous so that would be a big no.

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

Lucy loves eating you out but there is also something very special about having you between her legs. She will guide your head by your hair and praise you as you make her feel good. She has trained you and knows how skillful your mouth is.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on the situation, but is you have a full day together she will fuck you fast and rough. She will have you in every imaginable position.

Sometimes if you are feeling sad or overall need to feel loved she will be sensual and give kisses to every part of your body, and be all lovey dovey.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

She rather would take her time on you but if a quickie is needed, she will happily give it to you. You have quickies like once every other week.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She loves to experiment things with you. She will gladly try anything at least once to see if she likes it or not. But she will never take risks with actually doing something that would hurt you.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Lucy's stamina is like no one else's. She will keep going (thank's to her muscles) until you pass out. She loves to give more than receive so usually she can have couple orgasms max and then she will move to you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

She has a toy collection. Pretty much just things to tie you up with and different size dildos to use on you. She much rather uses them on you than herself. She also has a bullet vibrator that she takes with her when she is away to get herself off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Lucy doesn't tease much. She is impatient and just wants to get to the point. She will give you foreplay but not that much teasing.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Lucy is a bit insecure about making noise in the bedroom. She loves hearing your moans but is pretty quiet herself. But once you told her that you love her moans, she got more comfortable with it.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hmm

I would say that Lucy likes to show you around. She loves to make sure that everyone knows how hot her girlfriend is and isn't afraid of PDA.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

She will be wearing a strap to tease you (and fuck you) at a party.

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

High. I don't know if that needs further explanation.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

She will look after you. She makes sure that you are asleep before going to bed herself. As long as she is close to you, she will be fast asleep.

--

Hope you like it!!!

#woso community #wlw post #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

[cinnamondumbb]

ੈ✦ ⿻ 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐔𝐏 —𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 : after a clash with the rda, you are left with a wounded neteyam to care for.

contents. a scenario? drabble? imagine? i really don't know what to call this lol comforting, bit of angst, fluff + gn! omaticaya reader

notes. my first ever piece on neteyam ! i had sm fun writing this ^^ i already have two more neteyam pieces on my drafts :) i hope you like it!

in which you try to not let your emotions affect your duties as a healer tending to neteyam's wounds .

or

where neteyam is terrified of the idea that he might have disappointed you after he makes a mistake .

being a healer — even if only in training — meant that serving your people would always come first, so it was crucial that you never let your emotions cloud your best judgement, and you took that assignment very seriously. however, you would be lying if you said that following reason was not getting more and more difficult, as your feelings for a certain member of your tribe only grew stronger.

you tried with all your might to keep yourself from crumbling as you watched toruk makto carry neteyam's body covered in blood and scratches into the omaticayan's hideout in the hallelujah mountains. which proved itself to be a task close to impossible. still, your spirit did not yield. you needed to remain calm and act rationally.

your duty to your people came first.

you rushed to the gathering in the entrance of the camp, promptly offering your services to mo'at. you wanted to help in any way you possibly could. alas, mo'at decided that she and the others could take care of the gravely wounded and entrusted neteyam's care to you, her apprentice and neteyam's close childhood friend.

that is how you found yourself alone with neteyam, sitting across from each other on the floor of your small tent, patching him up. this boy you knew your whole life, your best friend.

neteyam kept his head down as you gently rubbed a damp cloth on his recent injuries, his braids hiding his features completely so you could not read his expression. he was too afraid to meet your gaze. he feared you might despise him now, that maybe he had crossed a line and that it had cost any high regards you once held for him. he knew how deeply you valued your duties, and he had just gone against his, it did not matter the reason. he had brought dishonour upon himself. after all, it was his choice to put himself in danger and now you were the one who had to deal with it. resigned, he could only stare at the tapestries that adorned the floor and let you continue your work.

"i am sorry," said neteyam, much like a plead.

you did not answer, not out of spite, you just did not know what to say.

you had not spoken a word to neteyam since he got back from his mission— in which he was only supposed to participate as a lookout along with lo'ak. instead, he ended up going against his father's direct orders and taking part in the fight, nearly getting himself killed.

he grimaced at your touch, the medicine you were applying in his wounds stung more than he had anticipated, leaving a tingly sensation on his skin. yet, it did not hurt as much as when he finally lifted his gaze at you, taking in the look on your face.

it was only then that neteyam noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks.

"please, don't cry, i am so sorry," said neteyam, quickly standing on his knees to get closer to you. he was confused, why in the world were you crying? he expected you to be angry or disappointed in him, but this was a reaction he did not predict. neteyam tucked a few stray braids behind your ear then cupped you cheek. "i cannot stand to see you cry."

"what you did was so stupid!" you spat as neteyam wiped your tears away.

"i know, i am sorry. i disobeyed orders and have disgraced myself. i– i just hope you can forgive me."

"what?" neteyam took himself too seriously at times, it was something you frequently teased him about, but this was insane. "what are you talking about, neteyam?"

"that i failed to follow-through with my responsibilities–"

"i do not care for any of that, especially not when you could have been killed!"

neteyam's expression was one of sheer confusion.

"wait, does that mean you are not– disappointed in me?"

"oh neteyam." you took his face between your hands, resting your forehead against his. "i could never be disappointed in you."

you leaned away for the briefest of seconds only to place kiss on top of his brow, before he pulled you into his arms again, squeezing you tightly, as if he was afraid you would simply slip away if he loosened his grip.

"i see you." neteyam whispered softly, his breath brushed against your lips, sending chills through your whole body.

"i see you."

cinnamondumbb © 2023 — please do not copy/repost/translate my work without my permission. (♡) + rb! :p

#— ᵕ̈♡ lua writes🧁 #ੈ☆ — (avatar) 📓 #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #atwow spoilers #atwow fanfiction #avatar fluff #avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #neteyam sully #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

[onskepa]

Hey I loved your fics!

I was wondering if you could do head cannons on scientist/avatar reader meeting ronal pre-first movie?

Hello sweetie! Thank you for loving my fics! Hope this can also satisfy you! Enjoy!

P.S: Im taking inspiration from mo'at and Grace's relationship

P.P.S: I dont know if ya wanted it platonic or romantic so I am leaving it out in the open.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

'Eylan

Much like the RDA setting camp near the omaticaya terriritory, they also placed camp near the Metkayina clan.

Out of everyone in the clan, Ronal was the first and most defensive of the humans. Hostile and wants nothing to do with them.

She and Tonowari would restrict the people from going beyond the reef, beyond the walls that protects them.

Ronal wasnt stupid, she heard stories from the Omaticaya clan. Constantly clashing, children dead for simply defending their land, polluting their water system.

Ronal wont let that happen. May Eywa guide her to the right path for her people and for her growing family.

And Eywa did, but not how Ronal wanted.

A scientist was either brave, brainless, or just stupid, but this small scientist managed to go into the territory and tries to show she isn't a threat.

Ronal believed that human wouldn't last long, her warriors wouldn't let the human touch land and would chase her away.

For days however, the human would keep coming, and would be chased away. The cycle would repeat for weeks until Ronal had enough.

Oddly enough, the human reminds Ronal of herself. Stubborn, strong head, and wont stop until the other caves in.

Ronal was the one to cave in.

Giving in, and hopes what she is doing is right.

The human scientist she met was odd to say. She spoke na'vi very well and fluent like it was her native language. Was able to communicate well and did the greetings very well. Which surprised everyone.

ronal took it upon herself to get to know the human and see if her fears were simply in her mind.

As days past, ronal was still wary but lowered her walls for the human. She was fascinated that the human was willing to learn many things, the animals, the culture of her people, what everything means to them.

It wasnt just ronal that the human shown kindness too. The children took fascination to the human and would ask to play with her. The parents of course were worried and would watch not far from where the children were playing with the human.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months.

Ronal dare say the human earned her trust, the human didnt rip or destroy anything. Didnt even take samples to take back. Simply admiring her beautiful island.

Until one day, the human came back, but not as a human. She came back as a reef na'vi.

Ronal heard of these "dreamwalkers" or "false na'vi" as they were called.

The human now in her other body, looked more comfortable. More relaxed.

"'Eylan" ronal said. The scientist looked at her confusingly. "from today onwards, I will call you 'Eylan"

And that was the start of many things. Tonowari deems 'Eylan is worthy of doing her Iknimaya. Many of the people were shocked, to give a dreamwalker a trial like that. Perhaps there was something different of the fellow scientist.

Ronal personally taught 'Eylan the ways of healing, weaving and craft, how to make her own clothing and what each item represents.

Tonowari showed 'Eylan the ways of hunting and how to fight like a warrior.

The people all showed 'Eylan different skills and methods, the life style of the people. Everyone helped to prepare 'Eylan for her iknimaya

The iknimaya was hard, tricky, and tiring. But 'Eylan showed she could do it, taming an ilu, a skimwing, how to hunt, proving her worth among the people. And she passed in more ways than one.

'Eylan earned the trust of tonowari, ronal, and the people. And it was long after that ronal finally introduced her young children to 'Eylan.

'Eylan is Metkayina now. And she earned her tattoos. A tattoo was done on her arm, symbolizing her strength and her place among the people.

Things were better when the tulkun arrived. Ronal was more than happy to show roa to 'Eylan.

Roa was happy to see ronal smiling more, seeing her eyes shine brightly, to see 'Eylan was definitely a nice surprise. She welcome 'Eylan and was able to communicate with her well.

Ronal saw 'Eylan as a friend, someone she has come to love and enjoy her Prescence.

'Eylan truly felt blessed by Eywa. To be seen as one of the people is her greatest accomplishment. The trials and turbulent was all worth it. She truly feels connected with the people and with their culture.

Most importantly, she enjoys her close relationship with ronal. And hopefully, their bond only grows stronger with time.

And that is it for this! my first Ronal request! I am happy how it turned out. Until next time! see ya!

'Eylan = Friend

#avatar #na'vi x reader #avatar the way of water #na'vi avatar #avatar 2 #na'vi x human #ronal x y/n #ronal x you #tonowari x ronal #ronal #ronal x reader #tonowari x reader #tonowari #metkayina

[girlswhowantboystobegirls]

what would some pjo characters listen to?

thalia, luke, annabeth, percy, grover, clarisse, stoll bros edition

Thalia's music taste is canon; she listens to Green Day. I'd like to think she is fond of many rock bands like Radiohead, Nirvana, Rage Against The Machine... her playlist is a rock/punk soup. She may even go and listen to The Cure, Slipknot and all those bands with a certain aesthetic that is linked to an alternative style/community.

One thing about Thalia, though, is that she won't stand music that isn't alt. Lana del Rey, Billie Eilish, Dua Lipa, Taylor Swift are just examples of what she really can't get into. She despises entering a shop in a mall and hearing the "daaaaaance, dance the night away!" no. Please no. If you think Thalia listens to Taylor Swift in secret, I disagree.

I made a post about Luke's music taste before. I like the headcanon that in the Hermes cabin everyone listens to any song, any language, any genre (their shared playlist has over 3k songs, and most of them don't even correlate; special thanks to the Stolls). Luke likes punk and rock too, but maybe not overwhelmingly noisy... The Clash is probably a band he really likes, he also likes more current rock from bands like Los Campesinos... that's a little calmer than Thalia. He already has too much noise around him anyway.

Related to noise, Luke likes good, funky beats (Ivan Meets G.I Joe by The Clash starts playing). It is possible he listens to glitchore and/or scene songs!

Luke would listen to TV Girl.

Annabeth had most of her music taste influenced by Luke and Thalia, she was 7 when she came to camp afterall. Probably her own dad wasn't a parent that would show music to their child all the time. So, yes, Thalia and Luke music taste, mostly.

A thing's for sure, she doesn't understand Luke's liking towards glitchcore songs. Annabeth thinks they are... messy, like they were made immediatly and the lyrics aren't even audible. As an Athena kid who likes music, she often analyzes songs.

I can imagine Annabeth liking The Pixies, Iggy Pop, Ramones, and (she says that it's just sometimes, but their whole playlist is plagued by...) Blondie. Add The Runaways and Joan Jett too, this girl is a bisexual.

I'd like to think Percy isn't really judgemental about music. Does he find a reasoning in the lyrics? Nah. Who cares. Does he think the music is sad or happy? Depends on how fast it is, lyrics are to be listened; not read.

Sally is a really cool mom, and she probably introduced him to many things (I headcanon watching Drag race is one of them). A hint of jazz, some old-school rock punk, The Smiths, The Beatles, David Bowie, Abba... ultimate playlist. Percy probably still listens to many of these artists' songs.

But Percy's personal taste? Hip-hop. The hip-hop you could hear in a skatepark, or just 90s, it's almost the same thing. Eminem, Skee-lo, Ice Cube... he probably downloads playlist full of 90s songs.

Grover likes calming songs. Laufey is probably his favorite artist. Dominic Fike, Mac DeMarco's songs are also in his playlists. He doesn't mind catching up to some popular artists like these, but it's true that he only listens to music when he has nothing to do, not even go and search for Percy.

He can step out of his musical comfort-zone, but he can't listen to heavy metal. Thalia's playlist really scares him, can't even have it saved in his library. Grover needs relaxing music. Gods, he would listen to white noise, rain sounds or whatever's chill.

Clarisse thinks listening to music is a waste of time. She's not really a playlist grinder. But it is true some of her half-siblings tried to introduce stuff to her, it being: Måneskin, Hole, Marina (that one is a very guilty liking of her).

Clarisse doesn't think of listening to music when being alone and with no tasks, she just goes and does something. The fact that you can multitask, do something productive and listen to music at the same time, does not really enter into her perception of productivity.

Expect her to be judgemental of songs people who aren't her siblings show to her.

The Stoll brothers are constantly, forever in a music fight. Both of them have a very wide taste... but between both of them there are big differences.

Travis would listen to Taylor Swift, Mars Argo, Good kid, The Cardigans, Tyler The Creator. Pop, pretty much summarized, and some of its subtypes too.

Connor would be the reason of why the Hermes cabin listens to tons of songs in different languages (hc mentioned in Luke section). Brazilian phonk? Of course. Russian indie bands?? Yes! Argentinian rock??? Yasss. Everything goes into his playlist. Connor probably trusts Spotify's Discover Weekly BLINDLY.

This dramatic difference between their tastes made them not talk about music, because it would probably end up with both of them trying to prove the other wrong. They are very good siblings! It's just that... well... Connor thinks Travis' taste is shit. And Travis thinks Connor's make no sense at all (he can't even understand what they are saying!) But well, they can't look almost the same and have a similar music taste; that would be too much. Siblings can have many things in common, and things that make you want to make the other to cancel their Spotify subscription. It works like that.

I took 1 hour to write this.

#grover underwood #percy and grover #grover pjo #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percy jackson #percy and annabeth #annabeth chase #annabeth pjo #annabeth percy jackson #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #headcanon #pjo hoo toa #pjo headcanon #thalia grace #thalia pjo #pjo thalia #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse my beloved #clarisse x reader #travis stoll #connor stoll #stoll brothers

[sentient-stove]

Wing hcs for the seven (+reyna and nico). Because I got bored and they should have wings.

Jason- Swan. Specifically the wings of a trumpeter swan. Large, majestic, maybe a little tragic, pure white and just benefiting of a son of Jupiter and praetor of the legion. He probably spends hours after battle grooming the blood/monster dust/dirt out of them and it’s one hell of a self soothing habit by that point.

Piper- White-Tailed Kite. She’s probably the fastest of the seven, constantly has people asking if she’s got dove wings and it’s lowkey grating on her nerves. It’s a kite, not a glorified pigeon thank you very much. Her and Jason will take turns grooming each other’s feathers though, and it’s lovely bonding time for them both.

Leo- Common Raven. Either signifying knowledge/innovation or the burden of being omened by death, your choice. Who am I kidding, he definitely sees them as bad luck. Clipped on one side from a foster home or possibly when he had a runaway attempt from wilderness camp. Rarely has them out, and stress tears out his own feathers.

Annabeth- Barn Swallow. Kind of plain, but she just lies half the time and says that she’s got owl feathers. Post Mark of Athena, she’s more proud of them and her place among her peers with more exotic wings. Also Percy’s the only person with blanket permission to touch and groom her feathers. Also has a stress tearing issue, but her siblings and partner are good at catching her before she can damage herself too badly.

Percy- Common Kingfisher. Still good for flight, but also allows him to dive and hit the water without worrying about not being able to surface afterwards due to being waterlogged. Bit redundant since he can dry himself off anyway thanks to Poseidon powers but the point still stands. Plus, they’re blue and he’s absolutely chuffed that they are.

Frank- *insert american bald eagle jokes* jkjk. Red-Tailed Hawk. Although he didn’t get his adult feathers until he unlocked his shapeshifter abilities and matured there. He can also change his wings to different ones when he concentrates but it always feels a touch off, so he sticks with the wings he was born with.

Hazel- Golden-Winged Sunbird. Pretty! Unique! Gave her a lot of shit for it in her first life because of course the cursed girl with the death jewels had gold wings. She’s gotten alot more comfortable with having them since meeting Frank and Nico though.

Bonus!

Reyna- Hispanionlan Amazon. Yes, the green clashes with the purple of her praetor cloak. No, that will not stop her from still wearing it. Her and Hylla’s wings match, although Hylla dyes her feathers black in an attempt to seem more intimidating. Reyna tried once and decided that she preferred the original coloring of her wings.

Nico- Cinereous Vulture. Go look up photos, trust me. Absolute wet cat of a bird. Plus honor and respect in death, and like a vulture, Nico is also a scavenger. His wings are missing feathers from neglecting to groom them + the amount of time he’s spent nomadic. Living at camp full time is helping with the feather regrowth however.

#leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hoo #percy jackson #pjo #nico di angelo #piper mclean #jason grace #annabeth chase #frank zhang #hazel levesque #reyna avila ramirez arellano #wing au #the seven + nico and reyna

[doubleddenden]

A quick look at the timeline since we last checked in

Sonic Frontiers has a song by ONE OK GO and one version says "Fuck the pain away"

Disney proves it truly listens to what fans do not want by making live action Pinocchio, Little Mermaid, and Mufasa, which is a prequel to the much behated live action Lion King

HBO Max nuked a bunch of its animated shows for tax write offs

Uncle Grandpa almost survived with one episode called "Fleas Help Us" before being deleted

Summer Camp Island literally had a whole season ready

WB canned a completed Batgirl movie after spending $98 million. For tax write offs.

FBI raided Trump's Florida home and found hundreds of stolen top secret files, and one includes nuclear defense details on a foreign nation. Yeah he's in very hot shit

Biden administration opens the path for forgiveness for $10k-$20k of student loans, MS decides to tax anyone that gets it

When the Republicans got offended the White House Official Twitter Account revealed the MILLIONS of PPP loans the nay sayers had forgiven individually

NASA Is trying to GET US BACK ON THE MOON BABEY WOOOOOOOOO but unfortunately they had to scrub 2 launches because of engine troubles and a leak

But it's cool! It's cool! They gotta get it right because the end goal is to try and establish a MOTHERFUCKING MOON BASE!!! SOMEBODY HIGH FIVE ME

A machine on Mars the size of a lunch box made about as much oxygen as a small tree, prompting some to think we could have oxygen mines for future manned Marsian missions

Leonardo DiCaprio breaks up with another woman who just turned 25

JK Rowling wrote a book about totally not her being harassed by the very people she demonizes every day as a racist antisemitic ableist TERF and embarrassed herself in front of God and the internet again

After years of failing to sell on the market, Sony makes the decision to INCREASE the price of the PS5 despite only 5 people other than Crypto Dorks having them

Nintendo follows up by revealing they have no plans to change prices, which we all been knew because they still sell years old ports for $60

Gendy Tartokovsky's Primal aired a Dinosaur literally laying eggs up close and personal from its cloaca (side note do dinosaurs have those?)

Gendy is also apparently at the helm of a second PPG reboot in the works

She-Hulk Twerked

Looney Tunes officially ships Bugs X Daffy

3 Avatar Movies in the works. No not the blue people- well yes those too but I meant the one about the bald kid, the second one about Zuko, and the third about Korra

Blue people avatar has a movie coming in December

Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100 wins Twitter poll for Twink Supreme

Reigen does absolutely nothing and wins Ultimate DILF

In an ultimate final clash, Reigen just barely loses to Sans Undertale for Tumblr Sexyman

Tobyfox wrote fanfic about it and posted it to Twitter

On the same exact fucking day Sans defeats Reigen, the Queen of England DIED. Tv stations in mourning across the globe. Meanwhile Irish people and other people directly negatively impacted by colonization by the crown cheered and partied and tumblr and twitter released the crabs 🦀

This is as of September 10th, 2022, not told in any particular chronological order

This has been the look at the timeline, and no, the year is not over yet

See yall in December

#the timeline #sonic frontiers #queen elizabeth ii #sanssweep #reigensweep #nasa #artemis 1 #hbo max #crab #im not the official news. look it up if you have doubts

[crisisreading]

How I Think Percy and Annabeth’s “Enemies to Friends” Relationship Should Work in PJO Season 1:

First of all, I would like to say it really bothers me when writers throw in an “enemies to friends” or “enemies to friends to lovers” trope into their story and the basis for “enemies” is something silly. In the case of PJO, the main reason why Annabeth and Percy do not get along at first (this is only the biggest reason, there are others) is because their parents do not like each other.

I would like to make the case that this trope would work much better if it was caused by a clash of worldviews between Percy and Annabeth. We have two characters with vastly different backgrounds, and it really sucks that this wasn’t explored more.

Percy is very street smart. He understands the power dynamics/hierarchies/rules of the mortal world and is able to use these to his advantage. However, he is totally new to the demigod world and struggles against following rules or authority figures he does not respect. This sets him up to be a rebel in the demigod world and make enemies of powerful folks.

Annabeth is well-versed in the demigod world. She has known about her demigod status since age 7 and been involved at camp for nearly as long. In this time, she has managed to build connections with demigods and gods alike. However, she feels little attachment to the mortal world where she has only ever known rejection.

Percy’s home life is marked by extremes. Sally did her best to give him love and attention, but he was also abused by Gabe, written off by the school system, and experienced financial struggles. Percy’s background set him up to be a very loving kid with a strong hatred for injustice. He was abused for years, but still knew what it was to be shown love.

Annabeth’s home life has left her extremely self-conscious and afraid of abandonment. She was homeless and fending for herself at age 7, then was picked up by two teens who could barely help themselves. Then Thalia and Luke walked out of her life too. Annabeth has never known true, unconditional love.

There is just so much to explore here, and I really hope that their initial “enemies to friends” takes advantage of that. Even their “friends to lovers” could be so much more interesting. I imagine their differences being most pronounced during their TBoTL angsty era. Annabeth’s insecurity about Rachel would be a lot cooler if it was less “clingy jealous girl” and more “terrified of being left behind again”. Likewise, Percy would suffer so much during their estrangement because he would have so much love for Annabeth but nowhere to put it. As Aphrodite predicted, not easy indeed. ;)

Anyways! This went on too long but lmk your critiques.

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #rick riordan #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy and annabeth #luke castellan #thalia grace #gabe ugliano #sally jackson #rachel dare

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Crazy Stupid Love

edited!!

type: angst warning(s): self-doubt, harmful thoughts, age-gap, Azriel is Reader's boss word count: 5.4k words summary: Reader is one of Azriel’s spies. Nesta has rescued her from Illyria and brought her to Velaris. Azriel has seen Reader’s potential and has asked her to become his spy. Slowly, he has fallen for her and vice versa. But both have difficulties accepting those feelings, especially since Azriel has doubts about him being Illyrian when you just escaped the Illyrian war camps, thinking you would be disgusted by his love for you. This is now the edited version of a request (where Reader is one of tge IC members' children) that caused incredibly much hate and uproar. Once again I can only apologise and hope you will like this story now better. Additional info, Reader is jealous of Gwyn in this, so Reader’s dislike of Gwyn stems from disappointment and jealousy. I love Gwyn’s character a lot, so these are not my thoughts and hence why I put some cute Gwynriel friendship into it. 

- all rights reserved - 

The shadowsinger’s thumb carefully swipes over your cheek, barely brushing the surface, his palm soft and warm on your skin, his touch gentle. You almost melt into it, your heart rapidly beating against your rib cage, reveling into the closeness of him. Your skin tingles, prickling. Not only where he touches you. Everywhere actually. Your gaze is trained on the ground, unable to look at him. 

Azriel. Shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court. And your boss—you being his best spy and that for quite some years now. So these feelings are…very, very wrong. You know that, but—

“Hm?” he questions, his voice barely above a whisper. It is the gentleness in it that nearly draws tears to your eyes, this side of him that hardly anyone ever gets to see. He lets this gentles, this soft and caring side show whenever he is around you. 

And that hurts, because even though, your heart beats for him, there will never be more between the two of you than…friends. 

And friends is already the most of it. You are his employee.

“I just felt dizzy all of a sudden. Might have been the heat,” you answer, warmth filling your cheeks. Azriel does not really seem content with this answer and tips your chin up with his thumb. You are forced to meet his gaze eventually, your heart pounding in your throat. You clamp your mouth shut, knowing that you first had to order your thoughts and only then could talk. 

You mind is a mess whenever you are around him. You have always liked Azriel a lot. He always seems to understand you, making you feel comfortable in what you do and say and think. Until it changed. Or not. You still feel comfortable around him, but now also really nervous and sometimes a little bit...shy. 

Azriel is just–Gods! 

He…you find it hard to breathe whenever you look at him. But now, now that your eyes clash with those of hazel, it is a sheer impossibility to form any coherent thought and to make your lungs fill with air. 

“I think you might not have drunk enough today,” Azriel says, a tint of reprimanding in his voice. You roll your eyes a little–yes, you are a younger fae, but you aren’t a baby. You are an adult and very capable of knowing how much or little you should drink a day.

The shadowsinger clicks his tongue and chuckles, the deep rumble doing something to you, making your toes curl. “What did I say about you rolling your eyes at me, little one?” Taunting laces his features when his gaze moves over your face, the corner of his mouth tipping up. 

Snickering slightly, you simply roll them again. “Well, sometimes, Shadowsinger, one can only roll their eyes at you. I am no baby. I can perfectly—“ “I never said you are a not capable of knowing how much to drink or you being a bay, I just realised that during training you drank nothing at all. And also not during lunch.” 

So he was watching you during lunch? Your mind plays silly games with you. Why would he watch you? To see if you are fit for work?

“So during lunch you had nothing better to do than watch me and see if I drink enough?” Your brow raises in challenge, eyes aglow when the narrow in on the shadowsinger. He cocks his head, smiling at your teasing words. Azriel leans back on the lounger and stretches his legs, then he folds his hands behind his neck. His onyx hair glow in the bright sunlight, his hazel eyes sparkling with challenge. 

“I’m just looking out for you. Training requires strength. But so it does require that you eat and drink enough and have enough power.” 

His explanation is not entirely what you hoped to hear, nevertheless you bow your head and force a small smile on your lips, knowing it does not reach your eyes. 

You know this is wrong, know that you should not feel…so much for Azriel. It is strange, odd, weird, twisted. But you cannot do anything against your feelings, you cannot force your heart to stop beating so frantically whenever Azriel is around, whenever he is near. It just happens, you just happen to have caught feelings for him. Feelings that you cannot suppress, nor do anything against them. 

You cannot stand the tension any longer, how close he sits, how his scent fills your nostrils —night-chilled mist, cedar and a hint of sweat— or how his warmth reaches your body, how his thigh touches yours. How often have you imagined situations just like this in the dead of night, staring at the ceiling in your room, fingers toying with the edges of the romance books you have been trying to read but soon lost focus.

“Can we just go back to training?” You don’t wait for an answer, standing in one swift movement that has you tumbling a little bit.

“Only if you drink. You nearly fainted earl—“ You snatch the bottle from the bench next to Azriel, roll your eyes and take a big sip. Actually you down the whole thing in a few big gulps.

Unsmiling the spymaster stands, shadows skittering around him. Azriel rolls back his broad shoulders and stretches his wings for a moment.

You find yourself gazing. Your throat works on a swallow when your eyes trail over the thin, leather-like membrane, the vein up to his talon. From Morrigan and Nesta you have often heard the rumors that wingspan says a lot about—

“Staring at wings is inapproiate, Y/N,” Azriel chuckles and quickly snatches them in.

“Sorry,” you whisper, sharply turning away from him. He could never see the terribly blush staining your cheeks. Internally you curse Morrigan and Nesta for telling you about wingspans. 

Heading away from Azriel, you decide to join the children of the High Lord and the general of the Illyrian armies, them only being a good century younger than you.  

You just have to leave, wanting to get away from the shadowsinger that still has your knees wobble. 

Baxton already frantically waves at you, a big toothy grin on his lips. “Feeling better?” he asks and you bow your head, smiling. 

They inform you that they, Baxton and Nyx, would do some one-on-one combat while Dorian trains with his father, Cassian, on the other side of the pitch. Well, then you would not train with them. Which leaves you with–

A shadow appears above you and you don’t even have to turn to know who it is. “Let’s do some kicking. There are still some…lacks you have to work on.”

You really want to kick backwards, knowing Azriel just said this to anger you because he knows that you fight much better when you are angered. And this again...that he knows you so well, makes the content of your stomach sour. He knows you somehow better than anyone else, like and and his shadows can read you perfectly, your actions, your thoughts, just everything.

“Well, then, master of kicking, show me how it is done.” 

The grin that spreads over your face is cruel and mischievous when you turn to Azriel, innocently blinking your eyes up at him. His nostrils flare and a snort leaves his throat before he tilts his head, motioning for the right side of the pitch. 

"Little one..." he growls lowly, reprimanding but also amusement in his tone.

Nyx and Baxton are already dueling, fully focused on each other when you start with kicking excises that Azriel has just shown you, trying to imitate them. 

“If you continue kicking like this you will twist your ankle,” Azriel comments and yes, has you roll your eyes once again.

“Then show me how to stand, you oh so great Illyrian warrior.” Mischief sparks in your eyes when you throw him a challenging look over your shoulder. Azriel chuckles lowly, lifting his hand to show you a vulgar gesture. “No need to get feisty, little one.”

“Don’t always call me little one!” Your cross your arms over your chest. Well, you are little indeed since that is what makes a good spy. You have an easy time hiding, and sliding through narrow and small spaces, ducking down behind bushes or fitting into cupboards and closets to get secret information.

Your breathing comes to an abrupt stop when Azriel closes the distance between your bodies, now standing mere inches from you, his brow raised while he looks down on you. 

Night-chilled mist and cedar envelope you, the heat from his body stretching out and warming your skin. You try to hold his gaze, looking up at him with colour blooming on your cheeks. This is…different. This feels different. This feels intimate. 

“You are little,” Azriel argues and grins. You want to hit him, but you find yourself unable to do so. It becomes a sheer impossibility to breathe, to think, to…exist. 

His grin is nothing but cruel beauty. He is beautiful when he smiles, but gods, when Azriel grins, it feels like someone pulls the rug out from under your feet.

A cool breeze tingles your skin when Azriel leans in. Maybe you are imaging it, but still fully on its own accord your head tilts, your lids slowly closing. Offer and permission.

You feel his breath hot against your skin, Azriel is mere inches from you, his own heart rapidly beating in his chest. You can hear it. You can feel it.

The shadowsinger clears his throat, probably remembering that you aren't alone on the pitch, and the warmth leaves your body the moment he leans back. 

“Let me show you how should…stand,” he breathes, voice hoarse and croaky when he wipes his palm over his face. He steps back, unease lacing his features, a deep shade of red on his cheeks. 

Is he blushing? Is Azriel truly blushing right now? you think, still in a sort of trance of what has just happened. Only moments later you can, with quite a lot of difficulty focus back on training.

But in all honesty, you still think about how close he stood, how his breath felt on your skin, how he looked at you on the training pitch, when you are sitting in your bathtub the following evening. 

Soon it is Starfall Eve and you are going to have this big celebration where the whole Inner Circle along their friends will meet up at the House of Wind, celebrating the travelling spirits. 

Half a century ago, Nesta brought you along to one of her Valkyrie trainings. She met you in the outskirts of Illyria –you worked there as a laundry lady– and you immediately loved the idea suggested to you: become a Valkyrie and leave the war camp you worked in. 

Nesta brought you with her to Velaris, and soon you were offered a room in the Town House as there was always a place for people who needed it.

During the very first training Azriel has already seen your incredible potential, having somehow stolen you away from Nesta somehow by offering you to work as a spy form him. And that was what you did. You became his spy. Neither you nor Azriel has had any intention of falling in love with the other–you hearts apperently have had different ideas. And so did your souls. Two souls hoping to finally being united as one. 

Your fingers absently brush over your calves, your gaze trained on the tub wall, imagining how deep the brown of Azriel’s eyes looked when he locked his gaze with yours. How soft his scarred hands felt on your skin. You have always felt most comfortable around Azriel–it was always him who you sought out when you needed someone to talk to, when you felt sad or lonely. It was always Azriel who was there for you, comforted you. And it was always—

“Are you done, Y/N?”

“Almost done,” you answer the young Nyx, whom, when he was younger, you have often baby-sitted, when his father and mother went to High Lord meetings and you did not have to work. 

But well, you aren’t even close to almost done, but Nyx seems content about the answer, mumbling something before shuffling away. 

You haven’t been finished in twenty minutes, but apperently everyone seems fine it, the High Lord also having taken quite some time longer himself, fixing his suit jacket and his hair.

You were in the bathroom for so long, doing your hair and putting on some light make-up. You want to look stunning, you want to knock the breath from Azriel’s lungs, even though you know how silly that sounds.

You aren't in the best mood, swinging the wine in your glass and releasing some air through your nose. Even two hours after arriving at the House of Wind you haven’t caught sight of Azriel, starting to feel slightly uneasy. Where the hell was he? 

You have been hanging around with Nuala and Cerridwen, your two colleagues, for quite sometime until Nuala leaves to talk to the High Lord if still everything is alright and so it is Cerridwen and you. Cerridwen blabbers non-stop about a new recipe she has discovered and you only listen with one ear, always trying to figure out where Azriel could be. He has to see you in this dress, you think to yourself when Cerridwen guides you through the kitchen to head towards one of the balconies. 

The door to the balcony is open and the moment you lift your gaze, your heart splinters into a million pieces.

That is where he has been the whole time.

Your brother is still talking to you, still happily chatting, but you cannot make out a single word that is said over the blood pumping in your ears. You feel your knees get wobbly, a large crack appearing in your heart when you see it, the priestess' hand, placed on Azriel’s lower arm. Tensions brackets your mouth, tears burning behind your eyes when you look at the shadowsinger’s happy, joyful face. He is laughing, freely, whole-heartedly. His eyes are glowing brightly, his posture so relaxed, so at ease. 

Your hands fall to your side, the crack in your heart increasing, making it hard to breathe. Your lower lip trembles and your—

“What do you think is better–chocolate or vanilla?” Gods…Furrowing your brows you turn to Cerridwen and look up at her. Your lips part when confusion laces your insides. You have no idea. No idea of what she has said, of what you should do now, of how you should act now. You do not want to stay here. Not with them getting all cosy and Azriel probably falling in love right in this moment. He seems so—

A loud, whole-hearted laugh draws your attention once again back to the spymaster and the priestess. Azriel is slightly bent over, clutching his belly, laughing. Gwyn is chortling loudly next to him, her beautiful teal eyes glowing, a stunning smile plastering her face. She is stunning. 

Tearing your gaze away from them, you look down on yourself. She is stunning, but you are…What are you? 

Self-doubt and self-consciousness flood your entire body and suddenly all you want to do is get out of the skin tight, midnight blue dress. You want to rip it off your body and put on one of those big jumpers that would hide every little curve and edge of your figure. You aren't as slender and stunning as Gwyn and you know that. Azriel probably knows that as well. He finds her beautiful, this is obvious, has become obvious during training in the past…years. He might have been in love with her for much longer, even before the two of you even met, and you simply did—

“Y/N? Still with me?” Getting impatient, the shadow wraith snaps her fingers in front of your face. You turn to her, taking in her partly irritated but also worried expression.

“Sorry, I am not feeling too well,” you whisper. “What did you say?” She waves you off and gives her head a little shake. “What is going on?” she asks, her eyes turning softer. She puts his glass of wine down and fully turns to you.

“Nothing,” you quickly answer. Too quickly probably. She raises one brow at you and parts her lips, but you are quicker.

“I am close to my cycle I believe. I am just not feeling too well. I will head home now. It is best if I get some sleep, the past days have been quite exhausting.” You put your glass down and wipe your hands down your dress, smoothing it out or rather getting the sweat that has started to form on your palms off. “Are you sure? The spirits are about to start travelling.” “Yes, more than sure. I have seen this quite some times already and it will be the same next year. I don’t mind missing it this year.”

And yes…yes, you run down all the dreadful steps that lead up to the House of Wind. You can barely feel your legs, the pain in your heart so much more potent and drowning out everything else.

The journey back home becomes a blur. Storming into your room you already started pulling at the strings of your dress, finally wanting to get out of it. This beautiful dress that no longer feels beautiful. It feels too tight, scratchy somehow. It has the same colour as Azriel's siphons, you have chosen it…Cauldron, yes, you have chosen it for Azriel. And now you hate it. Loathe it.

Your fingers claw at the laces and straps until you finally manage to rip the dress off your body and toss it into the room, stumbling over your heels while you step over it. You slip out of them as well, now just standing in your undergarments. 

You head for the bathroom, needing to cool down. You splash cold water into your face, letting a sob you have been holding in for minutes finally escape. The sound of it hollows of the walls, reverberates through your body and fully cracks your heart open. Your soul feels so empty, so dead, the feeling so dull. It feels like someone had cut a thread and now your soul would never find a way to happiness ever again. 

Your lower lip still trembles when you stare into your face through the mirror. Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you are holding onto the sink. Obviously he would never fall for you. You are a good three centuries younger than him. And most importantly, he sees you as his spy, as someone who works for him, but he would never see you as a love interest, as his lover. But why is there this connection between the two of you? Why has this connection existed since the very first day?

A single tear rolls down your cheek, landing in the sink. You stare at your eyes, those eyes that would never be as beautiful as Gwyn’s. You have always liked her, she was always like an older sister to you when your first arrived here and now she is stealing your…your…your nothing. You bring one hand up to smack it over your forehead. Azriel is your boss that is it. He is nothing more or less.

You hear your own breathy sob hollow in the bathroom when you wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand. You breathing is ragged, air wheezing in and out of your lungs while you try to calm down. This is all so stupid. You are so stupid, you think to yourself. How could you have ever had hopes for this male? How could you have ever thought that Azriel would really fall in love with you? With someone like you when there were all those stunning females right in front of him.

You grind your teeth together, trying to think of anything other than Azriel. Every thought just jumps right back to him, how he was laughing, how happy he looked. It still hurts, your chest still aches, your soul still feels dark and cold, empty. 

Your soul isn’t the only one yearning. Sadness is etched into his features when Azriel’s gaze longingly travels through the room. 

Weren't you at the celebration earlier, wearing that stunning midnight blue dress? The spymaster does not want to make his searching for you too obvious, but he can't really focus when an uneasy feeling appears in his belly. Somehow like he can feel your hurt. Like he can feel that you are not well.

“And so I kissed him back. And it was beautiful because he gave me a choice and made me feel loved and respected in my decision,” Gwyn finishes her sentence, giggling softly, eyes gleaming with bliss. Azriel turns to her, raising a brow.

Gwyn swats at his arm. “Don't tell me you haven’t been paying attention the whole time.” Reproach laces her features while she shakes her head at the shadowsinger. 

“I did listen to your story, Gwyn. And I think it is really nice that you kissed,” Azriel mumbles, shortly looking past the priestess, trying to make out if you maybe are in the kitchen with Nuala. 

“What is going on, Azriel?” The spymaster shrugs a shoulder, shadows curling tightly around him. “Nothing,” he breathes and Gwyn rolls her eyes. It reminds the spymaster of you. His heart cracks a little bit because he shouldn’t be thinking of you. He should never be thinking of you. You work for him, he is at least three centuries older and—

Not once did he allow himself to pleasure himself to the thought of you. One time he thought about it for a split second and then was grossed out about himself. He is still disgusted about himself that he thinks about you in way that is more than just…friendly. He likes you, but he also knows that he can never love you. It simply would not be wrong…everyone would think he has only wanted you to work for him for the purpose of wooing you or making you his lover. He saw your potential on the first day and knew that he wanted you as his spy as you were simply great. Still are. 

But then, unfortunately, the feelings came in, his heart skipping an extra beat every time he sees you.

But what worries him the most: wouldn’t you be disgusted by this whole thing? This old male drooling after you?

Azriel has been pondering about these questions for months, years maybe. There have never been these feelings until a few years ago. Until some time ago when you came home form a mission…hurt. You had several broken ribs, a bloody face and slashes over your abdomen. Azriel was out of his mind, his heart splintering when he saw you and he knew in that moment that things between the two of you have changed. That he was so worried and broken to see you like this because you are more to him than just his spy. 

To him you are the most stunning and breathtaking female Azriel has ever come across. 

But you work for him, you have escaped Illyria and the Illyrian brutes, loving you now, wanting to be with you, this could not happen. It would be too twisted, too strange, too out of place. 

You probably only see him as your boss, the High Lord’s spymaster, the shadowsinger. Because that is what he is, and only this and never ever anything else or more, Azriel thinks. 

Absently, Azriel rubs his scarred palm over his chin, only then realising that he still hasn’t answered Gwyn.

“Nothing, I think I am just tired. Thank you for your concern,” Azriel quickly says, meeting Gwyn’s worried expression. Her hand once again moves to his lower arm, squeezing softly. “What is going on with you lately, you always seem so absent. So…sad,” Gwyn queries, her eyes soft, empathetic.

“Nothing. It really is just that I am tired. Work was exhausting these past weeks.”

Yes, work has indeed been exhausting. But not because of the work itself, but because Azriel constantly found himself distracted. It was either you sauntering into the room with a big, stunning grin on your face, you giggling or talking while you were discussing missions, you teasing him during training, simply you! 

But there could never be more between the two of you. He could never openly love you and you could never have a relationship, that is clear. And that hurt. And it hurts so gods damn much, it nearly tears the spymaster's chest apart.

“Have you seen Y/N somewhere?” Azriel then asks, rather out of the blue as they have actually formerly been talking about his well-being. 

“Y/N?” Gwyn asks and spins around on her heels. She looks around in the living room and shrugs her shoulders. “She has been here earlier, maybe she is getting herself something to drink? Why are you asking?” A small smile blooms on her face, her feature not giving anything away though.

“Just curious,” Azriel answers and takes a sip from his drink.

“She is doing so great during training, don’t you think?” Gwyn chimes in. And yes, you are doing amazing during training. Gods, Azriel is so in admiration of—

“Yes, she does.” “I bet she would have been a great Valkyrie if you hadn’t stole her away to become your spy,” Gwyn chuckles and nudges the spymaster with her elbow. 

Azriel bows his head and smiles. 

You don’t show up for the rest of the evening, or night, which has Azriel going close to mad. What has happened to you? Mor, already slightly tipsy from the fairy wine, only says as much as you did not feel well and obviously Azriel blames this on him. Did he do something wrong?

He has noticed that you have slightly changed around him, sometimes acting a bit shy and nervous when he caught you looking at him. But mostly you still were your sassy, confident self, so what could be the reason for you leaving early? Did you really just not feel well? Were you ill?

Those questions still haunt him later that night when he is lying in bed, arms crossed behind his head, throat dry, a thousand thoughts coursing through his mind. He definitely doubted his rationality. 

You have left the Illyrian war camps only to fall into his…grasp. 

He could not allow that. This was twisted and wrong, he could not have those thoughts, those feelings, for you. Loving you, wanting you, aching for you was off limits. He could never allow himself that. Never.

The spymaster’s sleep is uneasy, he does not find rest, his heart beating sadly in his chest, his shadows unruly, finding not rest either. And many times he questions why he has agreed to family breakfast the next morning which would obviously be held at the Riverside House. 

“All packed?” Azriel lifts his gaze to you, heart sinking when he takes in the dark circles under your eyes. 

The words leave his mouth before he can stop himself. “Where are you going?” 

He has not sent you on a mission and has not given you a day off, so where the hell where you going? A crease appears on his forehead when he swallows the lump in his throat and he feels the High Lord’s gaze on him, but his eyes are trained on you. On you only. 

The spymaster watches your throat work on a swallow when you slowly meet his gaze. “I will take a few days off work, I am sorry for only informing you now. I am going to the Day Court to pay Elain, Lucien and Iris a visit.” Although your hands tremble at your sides, your voice comes out steady, strong. 

Through working with Nuala and Cerridwen and eventually becoming friends with them you have also befriended the middle Archeron sister, you would now pay a visit. You just have to get out–get away from here. 

Your gazes stay locked, something like sorrow glistening in Azriel’s eyes. Has he hurt you somehow? he questions himself. Your demeanor is so different. You don’t smile at him, you don’t tease him, you don’t even smile at your parents. 

Has he made a wrong move? Is it because he touched you during training? Did he touch you too much? Somewhere where you felt uncomfortable? Was this because in the war camps those Illyrian brutes did touch you as well and now he was nothing better than them?

Disgust fills him once again, the back of his mouth tasting bitter when he grits his teeth and averts his gaze. 

“Tell them all the best from us,” Feyre hums, finally fetching you both back to reality. You have been wondering if he has spent the night with Gwyn, if they went to his place together. Or if he kissed her goodbye. 

“I will. Thank you. Good bye!” 

By the huge bag you are carrying Azriel can tell that you will be going for longer. The sheer thought of not having you here does something to him. He swallows the rising sorrow, stuffing another piece of egg into his mouth, his gaze drawn to the table. 

You cannot look at him either when you leave the room, waving the others goodbye.

Days pass and you love it at the Day Court, but still you find yourself caught in thoughts many times. You bounce a happily giggling Iris on your lap when Elain slides into the seat next to you, narrowing her eyes and placing her hand on your shoulder. 

“And now you tell me what is going on with you.” It is a statement not a question. She is so good at that–probably one of her seer abilities, seeing right through you. In the past days you have acted like everything is fine, but apperently she has seen right through your lie.

“I think I am in love with someone…”

“Why such a grim face then? This is beautiful, love is beautiful,” Elain hums, her eyes soft and warm. You shrug and Elain rolls her eyes. “Ugh, don’t tell me that that he leaves far away or something and you barely have a chance to see him. Did you meet him on a mission?”

A soft laugh escapes you and you give your head a tiny shake. “No, that is not it. Really. It is all just complicated.” “What is complicated?” Elain asks, softly stroking your shoulder with her thumb.

“Love is complicated. Crazy, stupid love,” you grumble and focus back on Iris who happily taps her feet on your thighs, giggling and squealing. You lift and lower her once, squeezing her slightly, grinning. 

“You want to tell me who it is?” You shake your head again. “I appreciate this. And I am really thankful, but—“ “Nothing but, it is perfectly fine. You don’t have to tell me. Just know that I am always here if you need someone to talk to.” You turn your head slightly, smiling at the Archeron sister and bowing your head. “I know, thank you.”

For a moment you deliberate about just telling her, but you know that when you say it, it would just complicate things because then she would always question you how you felt concerning…Azriel. And you do not want that. You don’t want anyone to know.

You have no time to ponder any longer, the moment of being caught in your thoughts soon gets interrupted by Lucien strolling inside the room. Not only Lucien, there is tall figure, veiled in shadows behind him. Azriel’s presence immediately fills the room, your breathing halting when your gaze moves to his, meeting, locking. 

His hair is ruffled, disheveled, his eyes empty when his lips part. “We need to talk.”

Part II

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#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #azriel angst #acotar #acosf

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Touch starved/virgin kieran ends up cumming in his pants when making out with fem! Reader outside of camp. She's very femme, shy, and wears dresses not pants. 🥴

They went outside of camp together because kieran was afraid of what dutch or arthur would think if they saw him fraternizing with one of the gang's girls.

He's pretty embarassed about it, but she assures him that its okay, and they eventually part ways.

Another day, Kieran wants to make it up to her.

Bounce

(Kieran Duffy x Fem!Reader Smut)

sorry if the ending is weird, I sprinkled in some of my horror weirdness

Warnings: Smut, mentions of animal death

It was a situation in camp no one would have foreseen. Especially not from someone like you. Being so shy and bashful, all your actions thus came with demure. People’s assumptions that you were almost juvenile or passive in nature was nothing more than chargaining for you. Some of their more crude remarks deduced that you were too “pure” or “innocent” to have ever fooled around with anyone, much less slept with someone.

Yet here you were, nearly prancing hand in hand with Kieran as you ventured deeper into the woods surrounding the camp. You were well aware of any possible presences of someone keeping watch around camp, presences that might’ve interfered and ruined the moment. So you and Kieran made sure to stay well hidden besides a particularly thick tree; the tree seemed almost too conveniently placed, mother nature’s gift towards you and Kieran for having been such good gang members for the past few months. 

As you led Kieran past woods you lifted your long skirt in hand to make sure it did not snag on a crooked branch and tear, preventing anyone from asking where you had been and what you had been doing; which would inevitably devolve into a frenzied list of questions interrogating you. Kieran kept looking around frantically. Kieran seemed almost divorced from the act, too caught up in his own nerves to be able to focus his attention on you. As you settled behind the tree, there seemed to be a slightly tortured air to his expression, a cause of concern and mild irritation. 

“Kieran!” You hissed, snapping his attention back towards you. Your expression melted from one of dissatisfaction to comfort. “It’s okay.” You cupped his cheek, turning him to face you and to keep him facing you. “No one will see us!” You looked around the tree for extra measure, seeing nothing but trees in your line of sight. You looked back at him, offering a reassuring smile. As he focused his attention on you and not his surroundings, he seemed to relax. 

“Okay…Okay!” He squared his shoulders, feigning confidence that he hoped might translate to actuality. You were frisky, so you waited no longer before connecting your lips with his. 

You kissed him far more aggressively than you had meant to. You continued cupping his face as he snaked his trembling arms around you; scared that you, for some reason, would slap his arms away if he so much as dared to hold you. Kieran’s inexperience spoke for him through the kiss, sloppily reciprocating your osculation. Your teeth clashed together repeatedly, and he used far more tongue than necessary. It was like he was trying to devour your face. But your own lust fogged any judgment you might’ve had, and you hungrily accepted his tongue, sucking on it ravenously. 

Consequently, Kieran began to grind into you, and you pressed your pubis into him lifting your leg for direct contact. As if on cue, he gripped the back of your knee and held it against his hip bone as the two of you moved against each other. You looked down and saw his penis had begun to swell beneath his pants with a near embarrassing immediacy, as if he’d just pulled a cord to initiate inflation. You pressed even harder into him, kissing him so hard it was near violent, barely giving him the chance to catch a breath. You couldn’t help yourself, he was simply there for the taking. 

You felt Kieran stiffen and groan, a strange warmth spearing against his pelvis that you nascently felt through your own layers of clothing. You pulled away with an expression of confusion, his own face flushed and teary eyed. You both looked down and immediately took notice of the wet spot on his pants. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed, feeling a prideful sense of exultation at making him cum from minimal contact. 

“I am SO sorry—” Kieran began, covering his face with his hands. You covered your mouth as you giggled, waving your hand dismissively. 

“Oh don’t worry Kieran! It’s fine, I kinda like it.” You grinned, linking your hands behind you and fidgeting bashfully. Though it didn’t seem to reassure him too much. 

“You like it?” He asked, bewildered. 

“Yeah, I mean, I know you’re a virgin and all—” Kieran groaned at your reminder, making you giggle— “But making a guy cum so quickly, and from so little contact, is kinda like, an ego boost y’know?” 

Kieran began in a series of consecutive apologies, which you had to calm him down from before returning to camp. You insisted the two of you gather herbs and mushrooms together to make it appear as though you had done something else on your venture outside of camp to not draw suspicion upon your absence by returning empty handed—and with wet pants. 

Kieran held his handful of herbs unusually low as the two of you returned to camp. You greeted Javier casually, receiving a welcome smile from him; Kieran receiving a glare and a threat that if he tried anything, especially against you, he’d be getting it. You saw Kieran off his a chaste kiss that nobody saw before retreating deeper into camp with both your days worth of herbs in your arms, involving yourself with an ongoing conversation taking place by Pearson. 

The following days, Kieran thought of the embarrassing memory each night before bed, rolling around in his cot before trying to fall asleep. He wrung up the courage to approach you once again with lascivious intent, stuttering out that he wanted to repay you in any way he could. You squealed from just how cute he was being, feeling a non sexual tenderness for Kieran. Though that tenderness came before your accepting of his invitation, where you immediately adopted a sensual air. You led him far from camp once again, finding a thicker portion of woods to better hide your actions. 

You had ordered Kieran onto his knees, claiming you were about to teach him how to better put his mouth to use; a proclamation that made him swallow comically loud. He felt himself instantly begin to harden as you gave him a bounteous view of your legs, raising your skirt high enough to reveal your bloomers beneath. 

“Pull 'em down Kieran!” You exclaimed, tilting your pelvis towards him as you leaned your weight on the tree behind you. “What, you've never seen a lady’s bits before?” You teased, breaking into laughter, to which he became visibly embarrassed. You eased his humiliation by cupping his cheeks, tilting his head to look up towards you as you nodded reassuringly. He hooked shaky hands into the cotton of your bloomers, slowly pulling them down your legs. He revealed, inch by inch, more and more of your lower half. His breath hitched as he began to see the darkened trail of your pubes, gulping when he pulled them down your thighs and saw a glimpse of flesh past the hair. He hesitantly let the fabric go to pool at your boots, which you kicked off to the side enthusiastically. He looked up at you with questioning. 

“Alright, you’re gonna use your mouth but,” You lifted one leg over his shoulder, allowing him a better view of your genitals. “You can use your hands to spread me open, to help you get better access y’know?” You nodded your head enthusiastically, seeing his shoulders inflate with a sense of confidence. He settled his hands on either side of your pubis, peeling your folds apart and exposing you to the open air. You nudged the back of his head forward, then pointed at your bud. 

“That’s my clit, if you touch or lick it, it feels real good to a lady.” You informed him. In response, he leaned forward, the pink tip of his tongue emerging past his lips and poking at it. He looked almost scared when your body jostled, a tinge of pleasure just barely shooting up your loins. You nodded encouragingly, nudging his head once again. 

“You can kiss it, or suck on it.” You suggested, hoping he’d do either one. Initially, he lapped at you like a dog, but it provided you with enough stimulation to keep you somewhat satisfied. You suggested he enclose his lips around it to suck, to which you squealed loudly when he did. 

With each of your reactions, Kieran learned more and more. He even involved some of his fingers, rubbing you alongside his licking. Your body became rigid with pleasure, legs shaking uncontrollably. You were nearing orgasm as he continued, but it wasn’t quite enough to allow you to finish. 

Kieran’s rubbing was rather inconsistent, his force with sucking faltering then regaining as he struggled to deal with the alternating focus of using his fingers and tongue. Though it was pleasurable, you deemed it a work in progress. You stopped Kieran’s ministrations, deciding that if he couldn’t make you finish on his own, you could at least allow him to watch you cum. You knew you weren’t capable of going back to camp without remaining hot and bothered, so you were just dealing with what you would inevitably do anyways. 

You dipped your fingers past your folds toward your hole, gathering some of your slick and lathing it over your clit. Kieran watched with mesmerization, making mental notes as to what he should do next time as you rubbed yourself expertly. Within minutes, your pleasure reached its peak as your moans came to a crescendo, indicating you had finished. You came as Kieran watched, somehow finding it much more pleasurable with having him watching with such fascination. 

Without warning, you stuck your fingers in Kieran’s mouth. He seemed to be a fast learner, because he sucked and licked them clean without question. You praised Kieran for his ministrations, giving him a much longer and affectionate kiss to repay him. You allowed Kieran to hold onto your bloomers, and watched in amusement as he stuffed the fabric hurriedly into his pocket, watching the fabric bulge. 

The two of you walked back to camp, this time with a dead rabbit you had expertly killed, fueled by your sexual adrenaline. That night you laid in your tent, drawing the flaps closed so you could masturbate in peace. You reimagined the events of your day, urging your orgasm on by imagining Kieran losing his virginity to you, just moments before the rabbit appeared next to your copulating bodies, to which he’d deal a fatal blow to; succumbing to its wounds and dying.

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Bounce - System Of A Down

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #kieran duffy #kieran duffy x reader smut #kieran duffy smut #kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy fluff