#frankly i had barely considered before but as i was writing this

[moonlinos]

I can hear the siren (Siren part I)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, neighbors AU, strangers to “lovers”

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, voyeurism if you squint, hate sex kind of?, masturbation, thigh riding, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, Hyunjin’s a bit of an asshole but I love him

♡ Word count: 7.9k

♡ Synopsis: To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

♡ A/N: Once again, I cannot shut up and this ended up being much longer than I had originally wanted. One day, I will write a one-shot that’s less than 5k words, but today is not that day. I listened to Taeyeon’s Siren while writing this, hence the title. Also think the song’s a little fitting to the story.

part II →

Yet another night, yet another two hours of hearing your next-door neighbor moaning like a porn star for anyone to hear. The thin walls of your apartment, coupled with the fact that your room shared a wall with his own bedroom, make it impossible for you not to hear everything that happens inside his bedroom. Earphones have proven futile in muffling his voice, and you can only distract yourself with mindless YouTube videos for so long before you give up and simply wait for him to finish. Quite literally.

You noticed it was his routine: Fridays and weekends — the nights when he would graciously give the entire building a free show.

But that wasn’t all he did. And that’s what stirs up curiosity inside of you.

An hour before the unholy sounds begin, he spends a significant amount of time simply speaking, laughing loudly, and throwing the occasional suggestive comment here and there. But only his voice can be heard, and considering how damn thin the walls are, you can’t help but wonder why that is. Maybe his hookups aren’t into his long, drawn-out conversations, only there to get fucked and dip as fast as possible. Or perhaps it’s a girlfriend, and he enjoys gagging her. Your mind has had plenty of time to run wild with theories, seeing as he moved about a month ago, starting your own personal version of hell on his very first day.

You complained to your landlord three times now. On the first time, you were dismissed as being too sensitive to noise. Maybe invest in some earplugs, she suggested. The second time, after explaining through gritted teeth that perhaps the entire building could also hear him and it would be wise to give him a warning, she assured you that only your apartment had such complaints — after all, it was only the two of you on that floor. And, on your last attempt before you ultimately gave up, your landlord all but berated you for meddling in your neighbor’s business. She argued he was inside his apartment and could do whatever he desired.

And so, you accepted your fate.

As you walk out of the shower, your bliss at the realization that tonight is a Friday dissipates as soon as it dawns on you that you are in for three days in a row of your neighbor and his antics. You groan, reluctantly making your way toward your bedroom, your body aching after sitting at your desk at work all day. So sleeping on the couch was not an option; your limbs only ached even more the day after you did that to try and escape the raucous noise.

Like clockwork, at exactly ten p.m., his loud voice fills the small space of your bedroom.

“I’m actually going out tonight again, so we have to be quick,” he explains. “But you like it when I’m quick, don’t you? Like when I make you cum so fast you barely have time to understand what’s happening.”

You grimace at his words, burying yourself under your blankets. God.

“I’m going clubbing with a couple of friends,” He continues. “Hopefully, I’ll find a nice girl to take home, hm?”

Crossing out the word Girlfriend on your mental notes, you scoff. What a gentleman he is, letting his hook-up know he’ll have to fuck her fast so he can leave to meet another woman to take home.

“Maybe I’ll record a video for you if she lets me. Would you like that, seeing me fuck another woman? I bet you would.”

What the fuck. The word Girlfriend is added back to your list. Maybe the girl is into that shit, and you’re not one to kink shame so long as everything’s consensual. But you surely didn’t consent to knowing that information. 

Soon enough, his voice drops to a sultry tone, and incessant hums spill from his lips. And the worst part of your night begins.

You hate to admit it — seeing as the guy makes you lose sleep and disturbs your peace since he’s graced the building with his presence — but his dirty talk, when coupled with his groans, becomes far less unpleasant and much more enticing. Every night, you struggle for an hour with the uncomfortable feeling of arousal between your legs, the way he alternates between praises and vulgar words causing a twinge inside of you. But you never dare to masturbate to the sound of his voice — that would be going too far. Or, at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you follow your rule of waiting for him to finish whatever it is that he’s doing to then finally touch yourself. As you tightly shut your eyes, you focus on your upcoming work assignments, desperately trying to drown out the sound of his voice. Maybe boring yourself to sleep is your only escape.

“Oh, I know how wet you are just watching me — fuck,” he groans, a breathy scoff leaving his lips. “Don’t even gotta tell me. Just touch yourself, it’s okay.”

Your eyes shoot open as it feels as if he’s fucking talking to you. You shake your head, the awful feeling of embarrassment engulfing you in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“I know you want to,” His voice is unrelenting, reverberating through your dark room, punctuated by heavy sighs. “Do it for me, will you? Touch your pretty cunt for me.”

You feel your clit begin to pulse, and a loud groan escapes from your lips. So loud, in fact, you wonder if he heard you through the thin walls as well.

Fuck it, you tell yourself inwardly, it’s not like the guy will ever know what you’re doing.

The sound of his voice was as silky and dark as velvet, covering you wholly and clouding your judgment with each word. You allow your hand to slip underneath your sleep shorts, gasping as you find the fabric of your panties already soaking simply from hearing his words — almost begging, guiding you to let go of your reservations and touch yourself.

“Just like that. D’you like the sound of my voice?” He asked, voice breathless, a deep groan echoing through the walls. “Like hearing me moan for you? Bet you’d like it even more if I was fucking you.”

Your fingers delicately flick back and forth, teasing your clit, your mind now shamelessly imagining his fingertips, his tongue, his cock, anything he was willing to give you. You’re quick to lose yourself in this imagination, despite not knowing what the man looked like — you soon realize that wasn’t at all important, a dark shadowy figure hovering over you proving to be more than enough for you as you felt a rush of wetness pooling between your thighs when your neighbor let out a louder, guttural noise.

“Fuck, I’d love to be stretching that pussy out,” He chokes out, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any noise. You’re now hyper-aware that if you can hear him this loudly, he’d be able to hear you with the same amount of clarity.

Your embarrassment only goes so far, though, as you slip a finger into your cunt, your breath hitching and your eyes fluttering closed to better conjure up the fantasy your mind had been creating. You imagine his long fingers inside you in place of your own, the words he spilled almost nonchalantly being whispered directly into your ears. One finger soon turned into two, then three, the heel of your palm rubbing against your clit as you tilt your hips up. You throw away your last drop of inhibition as you indulge in vivid thoughts, imagining the shape and size of his cock and, most importantly, how it would feel as it filled you up. Your neighbor’s words almost faded into white noise, his grunting the only coherent sound in your ears.

Would he take his time with you, like he always did whenever you heard him? Teasing you for hours as he candidly talked about nothing in particular, rendering you unable to do anything but beg for him? Or would he be hasty, like tonight, his cock abruptly stretching you to the brim, making you feel every inch of his thick length? Would he rather finish on your breasts, your stomach, or maybe your face, taking a picture to keep as a souvenir he could show off to whoever he was with during these nights?

“Come with me,” His voice suddenly became clear once more, deep and hoarse as you imagine his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “Think about how good it’d feel to have me come inside you, stuffing that little cunt while you milk me dry.”

You purse your lips as you feel your release approaching, coaxed purely by his words. The mental image of this stranger painting your insides with his release, all the while his intoxicating voice told you how good you were, how warm and tight you felt enough to have waves of pleasure wash over you, body tensing up as your orgasm surges through you.

As you slowly come down from your high, you feel your consciousness come back to you. Your fingers leave your core as if you were just burned by fire, which is fitting as a feeling of burning embarrassment wraps around you tightly like a vice.

But the worst part is that the shame quickly ebbs away as you hear your neighbor’s chuckle, the laugh of a stranger you had come to almost memorize.

“You know I’m always glad to make you come. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, everything around you falls into a quiet stillness. You faintly hear as he shuts his front door, presumably leaving for that club he had mentioned, and you’re left to lie with your regrets.

This has just crossed a line, and although you couldn’t bring yourself to feel all that guilty, you still knew it was wrong. You had no choice but to confront the cause of your troubles yourself.

Unfortunately, that cause was a person you had just shamelessly fantasized about as you fingered yourself.

The next afternoon, you stand at your neighbor’s door, hesitant to knock. Since he mentioned going clubbing last night, you knew coming by in the morning would be futile, but you also know — sadly, all too well — that Saturday nights are when he’s the loudest, and he only stops well past midnight. You settled for the afternoon, preparing lunch as you rehearsed your words in your head instead of enjoying your weekend.

You knock twice, and that familiar voice soon rings through the door, asking for a moment. A minute later, your neighbor is standing in front of you, holding the door open with sleepy eyes that focus on you. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but surely not a tired-looking tall man with messy black hair wearing a pout on his lips, as if you just rudely disturbed him from his sleep (how ironic). From what you heard during the last month, you were ready to have to face a shirtless fuckboy, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips as he eyed you indifferently. Instead, you’re greeted by soft cheeks and half-closed eyes.

“Yeah?” Your neighbor croaks out, face still heavy with sleep.

You clear your throat, returning to the matter at hand. “I’m your next-door neighbor, I—”

“Nice to meet you, neighbor,” he says before you can even finish your rehearsed opening sentence, his lips curling into a small smile. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Somehow, him being so soft is making you hate him even more.

“I wish I could say the same,” you mutter, “Y’know, you’ve been making my life a living hell since you moved in.”

He doesn’t answer, instead running a hand through his hair, the strands falling into place and away from his face. After a small nod, he opens the door all the way.

“Come on in,” he says, promptly walking inside and leaving you standing in the hallway all alone. You have no choice but to follow after him.

He snatches his cup of coffee from the counter, letting out a tired sigh as he collapses onto the couch and takes a big sip. You sit next to him and watch as he swallows slowly, humming contently, and only then speaking again.

“Why is that?”

You hold back another eye roll. “Well, you’re quite noisy at night,” you hesitantly begin, only now grasping just how awkward explaining this situation will be. “On Fridays and on the weekends, you’re… loud.”

And in an instant, you witness a complete shift in his entire demeanor right before your eyes. Like he’s possessed by something, his once sleepy eyes now bore into you with an intense gaze, and his lips curl into the smug grin you were expecting from the start.

“So you can hear me?” He asks as if you hadn’t just told him exactly that. You feel small under the weight of his darkened eyes, but you shrug, doing your best at feigning confidence.

“It’s pretty hard not to hear you,” you answer simply. “We share a wall, in case you didn’t know. I can hear everything you do in your bedroom.”

He raises a brow at your words as if they piqued his interest. But he doesn’t verbalize it; instead, he speaks in that same nonchalant tone you’re used to hearing through your bedroom wall, “You never told me your name. A bit rude, don’t you think?” He offers you his hand. “I’m Hyunjin.”

You scoff but shake his hand regardless, telling him your name with a sigh.

“You know what I think is rude?” You offer him a forced smile. “Keeping your next-door neighbor up all night with how fucking loud you are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. His gaze traces a path from your eyes to your lips before lingering on your thighs. You instinctively cross your legs, fingers smoothing down the fabric of your shorts. Locking his gaze with yours once more after a few seconds, he cocks his head to the side.

“So I’ve been keeping you up all night?” He muses, and you feel a warmth spread across your cheeks at the rough rasp in his voice.

It’s almost as if he knows what you did last night and is teasing you.

Although you know that’s impossible, your words still get choked up. Hyunjin was undeniably attractive — whether it was looking as soft as he did while answering the door or as if he could devour you with his gaze alone as he does now. You couldn’t be blamed for feeling flustered, especially after everything you heard this man saying and doing.

“Well,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. Showing your outrage at this entire situation is your best bet, so you allow for the anger you felt during all those sleepless nights to seep through your veins. “It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re moaning like a porn star.”

But Hyunjin fully chuckles at that. “So I sound like a porn star?” He nods with an amused hum. “I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. Never mind anything you had thought upon seeing him open that door; Hyunjin is everything you thought he would be.

“Look, I didn’t come here to stroke your ego. You’re clearly doing just fine in that regard,” you grumble, and he scoffs beside you, leaning back on the couch with a smug expression you want to slap away from his pretty face. “I came here to ask if you could move whatever it is that you do to the living room, or maybe keep it down. I’m sure that’s not too much to ask.” 

Hyunjin clicks his tongue almost mockingly. “Oh, but it is too much to ask. I can’t really do any of those things. Sorry,” he shrugs, “The building has thin walls. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, I’m afraid.”

You stagger at his words, his lack of common sense seemingly higher than you initially gave him credit for. You’re unsure whether to laugh in sheer disbelief or cuss him out as anger slowly bubbles up inside your chest. How unfairly attractive he looks at the moment isn’t helping your case — he spreads his legs further as he shifts on the couch, bringing his mug up to his full lips and watching you almost uninterestedly with half-lidded eyes.

Fuck this guy.

“What is it you do that’s so important that you can’t at least keep it down? Can’t your girlfriend get off without your obnoxious dirty talk? Is that it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Your dates, then. I honestly don’t care.” You roll your eyes, which elicits a small laugh from him. You have never wanted to punch someone so badly, all while also wanting them to rearrange your guts. “Whoever it is, whatever it is that you do, can’t we compromise and you be quiet, at least on Fridays? I get home from work exhausted and have to put up with your shit when all I wanna do is sleep.”

“Ah, but Fridays are the most important nights for me,” Hyunjin tells you with a condescending lilt in his voice. “That’s also not possible, I’m so sorry.”

“I see.” You suck in a deep breath, your eyes narrowing and hands curling into fists on your lap. “Then would it be possible for you to move your… activities to the living room?”

Hyunjin contorts his face, shaking his head while that grin is still etched onto his lips. “Yeah, no, that’s also not possible.”

“You’re extremely inflexible, do you know that?” You blurt out, “I’m not asking that you move out, I’m simply asking that you fuck whoever it is that you fuck every weekend somewhere else.”

His piercing gaze lingers on you briefly, as if he’s carefully considering his next words. Sighing, he sets his mug on the end table and sits up straight.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposes, carelessly ripping a piece of paper from the open sketchbook that lay on the coffee table and jotting something down. “Tonight, you wait for me to start my activities,” he says with a poorly concealed chuckle. “And then you go on this website. Maybe it’ll clear up some things inside your pretty little head. Can you do that for me?”

He hands you the note, eyes darting down to your lips once more before meeting your gaze. The tone of his voice is the same that echoes through your bedroom during those nights — exactly like the one that coaxed an orgasm out of you just last night, and you absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together.

You need to get out of here.

With a small nod, you swiftly stand back on your feet and walk toward the door of his apartment that was left wide open. You quietly mutter a goodbye as Hyunjin says something about it being a pleasure meeting you, all while amusedly staring at you.

It’s only as you close your front door behind you that you look down at the piece of paper that you subconsciously crumpled up. Scrawled in a messy handwriting is simply a website address:

fivestarcam.com

You furrow your brows, walking toward your bedroom as you rack your brain for how a website could possibly give you answers. It dawns on you, then — all the trouble you went through, and yet, no solution to your problem.

Ultimately, you decide you’ve already wasted too much of your patience on this man today, throwing the piece of paper on your bedside table and going about your day, enjoying the tranquility of your apartment while you can.

Night comes too fast, the sun setting outside unbeknownst to you as you lie on the couch for nearly three hours, your focus solely on the plot of the movie playing on your phone. Soon enough, ten p.m. rolls around, and you drag your tired body toward your bathroom. You take a shower with no rush, knowing full well that by the time you walk into your bedroom, Hyunjin’s activities will already have started.

Sure enough, you’re greeted by a drawled-out groan as soon as you enter your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto your bed. Your bedroom had always been comforting, your bed almost like a safe haven from all the stress life threw your way. Yet now it’s simply the place where you lie awake for hours, simultaneously vexed and uncomfortably turned on.

You lie still for a while, Hyunjin’s vulgar chatter like the background music to your spacing out, until you remember the piece of paper he gave you earlier. How would a website clear up any of your confusion? And, more importantly, why should you even care enough to find out? From the little interaction you had with the man, you know for a fact Hyunjin will remain unchanging in his obnoxious ways.

However, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, and the mere prospect of understanding this annoyingly enigmatic man even a tiny bit has you hurriedly picking your laptop off the floor and typing out the website address on your browser. Curiosity killed the cat.

The first thing that greets you is a message asking that you verify being over the age of eighteen. All you have to do is click a button, which seems counterintuitive, but you have little time to worry about that when your screen is filled with preview thumbnails of several live broadcasts.

You’ve heard of camming websites before, of course, but you didn’t know they were still a thing nowadays, what with the rise of Only Fans and other more independent ways to go about making money like this.

Your eyes scan the page with agape lips. Men and women — some in their underwear and some already naked, some showing their faces and some wearing masks. And then, your eyes land on a particular thumbnail. At the Top Cammers of The Month section, on the number one spot, is a fully clothed man with familiar long black hair. Only the bottom of his face can be seen due to his camera angle, but that is more than enough as your gaze fixes on his full lips.

That’s undeniably Hyunjin. Your neighbor, Hyunjin.

Before you can make sense of your actions, your fingers are already hovering above the touchpad as you watch the thumbnail image change into a new one. Curiosity is eating away at you, and you can’t deny that your nosy mind is eager to finally see Hyunjin rather than only hear him.

Ultimately, you decide this is ridiculous.

But your twitching fingers brush against the touchpad just as you move to close your laptop, promptly clicking the live video, your screen now filled with the image of Hyunjin in his bedroom. He’s shirtless now, palming himself through his sweatpants — the same ones he wore this afternoon.

“You wanna know how clubbing went last night?” He says with a grin, and you now understand his incessant talking is merely him answering comments from his viewers. Various different names fly through the right side of your screen, some with tips attached to their comments and some simply drooling over Hyunjin as he essentially sits in front of the camera doing nothing.

A cocky smile is spread on his lips once you shift your attention back to him.

“I guess you’re good at following orders,” he chuckles. You then realize your laptop’s volume is on high, and the speaker’s noise permeates through your wall and into Hyunjin’s bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, and you scramble to find your earphones in your bed.

You’re gnawing on your bottom lip as you plug them in, suddenly too aware of the fact that he can hear you just as well as you can hear him. Hyunjin’s smile shifts into a small laugh, his hand wrapping around his length through his sweatpants, the firm outline of his cock straining against the fabric. You feel a tingling sensation spread through your body, your inner muscles clenching as you watch the way his hand squeezes along the thick outline, the muscles of his stomach contracting as he lets out a broken sigh.

This feels wrong, as if you’re nothing more than a pervert watching Hyunjin for your own pleasure. But then again, it was he who gave you the website address in the first place. Why else would he have done that if not for you to watch him?

“I have a special someone watching tonight,” he murmurs, and you can just imagine his gaze right now — his eyes hooded and piercing, locked onto the camera with the same intensity as when he looked at you earlier today.

Hyunjin’s hand reaches inside his sweatpants, withdrawing his cock from the constraints of the dark fabric before you can make sense of what’s happening. Your gaze remains fixed, unable to look away from the red, swollen head that stands out against his pale skin. With lazy movements, he begins stroking himself, the precum dripping from the tip easing the glide of his hand. You bite the inside of your cheek as more arousal leaks from you, gathering in your panties.

“Hope she likes watching just as much as she liked listening to me last night,” Hyunjin rasps out, and you immediately close your laptop, throwing it to the side before burying your face in your pillow.

He knows you got off to his voice. He has to know.

And, unfortunately, your brain is currently too clouded by lust to function properly, and the only logical solution you can come up with is to go knocking at his door tomorrow.

You stand in front of Hyunjin’s door at the same time as yesterday, a strange blend of anger and curiosity making you knock frantically until he answers with that annoyingly alluring smirk on his lips.

“Did you enjoy the show last night?” Hyunjin asks before you can even utter a word, his voice filled with a goading tone.

You push past him, walking into his apartment with a scowl. “Why did you send me that?”

He only shrugs, closing the door behind him before stretching his arms above his head with a sigh. “Needed you to understand why I can’t just stop doing what I do. It’s my job,” he reasons, “I figured showing you was more effective than telling you.”

A scoff involuntarily falls from your lips, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “So you just sent me to a website full of porn without even asking me if that was okay? I don’t care if that’s your fucking job, I never asked you—”

“Did you stay till the end?” He asks, a lazy grin on his lips as his gaze wanders across your face. Clearly, he’d completely ignored every word that came out of your mouth.

“Hyunjin, are you even listening to me?”

“I was thinking about you, y’know?” He continues, taking a step toward you. “Was really easy to come when I knew you were watching me.” He cages your body against the door with his, both hands resting beside your head. His dark gaze locks onto you, causing your breath to hitch. “All I could think about was how you were secretly listening to me all this time. Such a dirty girl.”

Hyunjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. You want to tell him you weren’t secretly listening to him; you were merely thrown into this situation against your will. But his gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips, lingering before roaming over the swell of your breasts, causing your thoughts to blur and your words to die in your throat.

“Kept thinking about how I never heard you,” he says, almost as if he’s wondering aloud. “When was the last time someone fucked you properly?”

His gaze finally travels back up to yours, and the fog of desire clouding his eyes is unmistakable. The moment you knocked on his door, you knew this would happen. You weren’t naïve, and Hyunjin wasn’t stupid; the moment you pushed past him and into his apartment, you both knew where this was going.

“Don’t have time to go on dates,” you murmur as Hyunjin leans down, humming low on his throat.

“Well,” he whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “You got to listen to me, got to watch me… Don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

You can only nod, and Hyunjin immediately presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He wedges his knee firmly between your thighs, as if he’s silently demanding that you give in to him. Little does he know you’re already way past that point.

Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin studies your features for a beat, the pad of his thumb gliding across your bottom lip as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“You really want this?” He asks, and you can’t help but feel he does it simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

But you happily comply either way.

“Please,” you breathe out, and Hyunjin chuckles, firmly pressing his thumb into your mouth and watching as you wrap your lips around it with a contented hum. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Hyunjin pushes his thigh against your core, the seam of your shorts creating a delicious friction against your clit. You can feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, and a sigh falls from your lips, your hands gliding up around his shoulders. You have no reservations left in your body; the only thing replaying inside your mind at the moment is the image of Hyunjin’s cock on your laptop. He was right. You were dying to know what it would feel like.

His strong hands firmly gripped onto your hips, guiding you to move against his thigh, each back-and-forth motion increasing the pressure on your aching clit. It felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. But just as you’re about to plead for more, Hyunjin’s pressing his lips to yours again and swallowing down your voice. His tongue slides against yours, the taste of coffee and smoke lingering in your mouth as he grazes your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling gently before letting go.

You feel your mind go fully hazy as Hyunjin lifts his thigh, bringing you up to your tiptoes, his muscles flexing and prompting you to roll your hips faster, harder.

“Who would’ve thought, huh? Just minutes ago you were acting like I was the worst person alive,” He lets out a low chuckle, amused, and your grip on his neck tightens as you feel the familiar vexation he brings out of you bubble up inside your chest. “Now you’re humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

“Shut up,” you choke out, your brain too lust-hazed to conjure up a better response. You don’t particularly care what he thinks of you so long as he keeps his bruising grip on your skin, guiding you to roll your hips against him.

Hyunjin trails kisses down the skin of your neck, settling at the dip of your collarbone and sucking on the skin while you eagerly quicken your speed. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, undoubtedly marking you, while his thigh begins to bounce against your cunt, and you can feel the familiar aching warmth of your orgasm beginning to tighten in your stomach. But just as you’re about to be hit by the release you’re so desperate for, Hyunjin’s hands leave your hips and slide down to your ass, any stimulation you had before coming to a halt as he picks you up and makes his way to the living room.

“What the fuck?” You all but yell, earning you a hearty laugh from Hyunjin. “I was close, you asshole.”

He roughly throws you onto the couch, a condescending pout etched onto his lips.

“But that’s no fun for me, is it, baby?” He hovers over you, spreading your thighs apart and slotting himself between them. In stark contrast to his words, he gently lifts your shirt over your head, feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. “Greedy girls don’t get to come.”

You feel your insides clenching at his words, and although you despise the effect he has on you, you’re already here, laid out before him, so you might as well indulge him. You gently push Hyunjin back until he sinks into the sofa, legs lazily spread apart and half-lidded eyes fixated on you. As soon as you clutch at his shirt, he promptly tugs it over his head in one fluid motion, and you attach your lips to the bare skin of his stomach, trailing kisses down the expanse of his torso.

You waste no time tugging his sweatpants down and out of your way, his cock now hanging heavily before you, just as pretty as it had seemed on that little screen. Hyunjin’s hand soon wraps around himself, stroking lazily while you watch the precum dribble from his tip. Tentatively, you grab the base of his cock, bringing your tongue to the head and tantalizingly lapping at it. Hyunjin lets out a quiet gasp, his own hand leaving his length and tangling in your hair, guiding you forward toward his cock. You part your lips and suck the head into your waiting mouth, hands now stroking his length at a slow pace while you lick up his slit, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. You hold back a chuckle when you feel him twitch under your touch, a soft whimper falling from his throat.

Hyunjin’s hips buck up into your lips, and you promptly open your jaw wider and slide his whole length down your throat slowly. You weren’t lying when you said you had no time for dates, which is why you find yourself struggling a bit. It truly had been a while since you had a proper fuck, but you would never give Hyunjin the pleasure of hearing you admit it. Breathing through your nose, you’re finally able to move up and down his cock, swallowing all of him. Your eyes well up as his fingers tug harshly at your hair, shoving your mouth back down the entirety of his thick length. A choked-out whimper falls from your throat, and you instinctively move your gaze toward his.

“God,” he rasps out, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and eyebrows knitting together. “You take me so well.”

You promptly remove your lips from him with a loud pop, precum and saliva dribbling down your chin as you struggle to suppress a laugh at the utter indignation on his face.

“I doubt you could fuck me if I let you come,” you shrug, and Hyunjin’s expression softens, a scoff falling from his lips.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already pushed you back onto the couch, easily flipping you over so your face is pressed into the cushion. He snakes a hand under your stomach and lifts your hips, quickly working to rid you of your shorts before pressing his cock against your clothed ass.

He leans down, lips pressed against your ear — much like it was in your fantasy back in your bedroom — and whispers, “You need me that badly? I can feel how soaked you are, and all you did was hump my leg.”

You grumble under your breath, but it goes ignored by Hyunjin as he grips your hips and slides his cock under the fabric of your panties, stroking himself along your soaking slit with a low groan. You can feel your underwear gradually dampen more as his precum mixes with your own arousal, the sheer cloth clinging to his cock with each thrust.

Hyunjin’s hand splayed across your lower back, causing you to arch your body and press your hips back instinctively. He chuckles, hand coming down onto the supper flesh of your ass with no warning, a sharp whimper falling from your lips.

“I told you greedy girls don’t get to come,” He reiterates, clicking his tongue and grabbing a large handful of your ass before tugging your panties down your legs. You quietly hoped the trees outside obscured enough of his window, otherwise you’d be in for some interesting elevator rides with your other neighbors. With a hiss, Hyunjin’s thumb presses against your clit before gliding along your wet folds. “Soaking wet,” he mutters, eyes glazed over while he watches your slick coat his finger.

You simply hum, not wanting to stroke his ego any more than you already had by begging him earlier. But you’re unable to contain the gasp that leaves your lips as he pushes his hips forward, the swollen tip of his cock gliding against your warm core once, twice, all while Hyunjin’s hands travel across your ass and thighs. You’re sure he’ll tease you until you give in and beg, but it seems his facade is quick to crumble. He impatiently wraps a hand around his length, finally guiding himself toward your entrance, seamlessly gliding into you with a heavy sigh.

He stills for a second, gaze transfixed by the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock. Until he suddenly pulls out of you before snapping his hips forward again, then again, until he sets a rhythm of deep, fast strokes that have you rocking back and forth on the couch. Pulling yourself up to rest on your forearms, you choke out a loud moan, Hyunjin’s cock twitching inside you at the sound. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, strong arms encircling your body once more, this time pulling you close to him until your back presses against his chest. Hyunjin’s thrusts grew more forceful, the sound of skin slapping together echoing through his small living room as he relentlessly pumped himself into you. His hand wraps in your hair, yanking your head back and humming against your ear, “Go on, you can moan for me,” he hisses, “I know how good it feels.”

Fuck. His ego is surely something you would never get used to.

But you let go, freely groaning at the feeling of his cock pistoning into you. You can feel the curve of his grin against your cheek.

“Like that, I know how much you like it,” he rasps out, “Just as much as you liked touching yourself to my voice like a little slut.”

“Fuck off, you—” you huff, your words cut off by a drawn-out mewl as Hyunjin’s fingers firmly pressed down on your clit, flattening the swollen bud. You couldn’t control yourself after that, desperate whimpers and choked-out moans falling from your lips with each harsh thrust of his hips.

Your sounds seem to stir something inside of him, and his movements grow more erratic, his fingers circling your clit hastily. A crescendo of arousal and pleasure envelops you as more curses tumble from Hyunjin’s lips against your ear, his hand gripping your cheek and pulling you into a messy kiss.

You clench around him, body shaking with the force of your climax as you seek Hyunjin’s arm wrapped around your body for purchase. He continues pounding into you, and you feel yourself squirm, your vision going blurry from the stimulation.

“Gonna come,” he hisses against your lips, “Where do you want it?”

And you’re too far gone at this point, whimpering, “Anywhere you want.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath, pulling out while his hand finds your lower back once more, pushing you onto the couch before flipping your pliant body over so you’re facing him. You watch with hazy eyes as he strokes himself feverishly over your body, his cum soon shooting onto your breasts.

His unreadable gaze lingers on you for a beat and a half before he nonchalantly tucks himself back into his sweatpants and heads toward the hallway. You sit up on the couch, limbs aching, and chuckle to yourself. This was not your proudest moment, but you surely didn’t regret it.

You don’t expect aftercare from someone like him, so you resign yourself to searching for your discarded shirt. But Hyunjin’s tall frame appears before you, towel in hand before you can even stand up. His touch is gentle as he cleans your chest, and although the gesture is somewhat sweet, it feels extremely awkward.

“Really liked fucking you,” he tells you with a grin, “But you gotta leave now. I’m going live later, and I also gotta go to the club tonight, so I have to rest. But it was fun.”

And you simply scoff at his words, rising to your feet to dress yourself as quickly as possible. It was a bit baffling how he could fuck you the way he did, then tell you he’s off to pick up more girls at a club immediately after. But what did you expect? Hyunjin’s ego and arrogance were clear to you from day one.

“Why the fuck do you go clubbing so much, anyway?” You question as you head toward the front door, and Hyunjin chuckles behind you. “Is that your hunting ground or something?”

“You could say that,” he simply says.

As you unlock his door and step out into the hallway, Hyunjin’s voice calls out to you. Turning to look at him, you’re met with that familiar smirk adorning his lips.

“We can do this again anytime you want,” he assures, and the mere thought of letting him touch you again makes you roll your eyes in disdain.

“Yeah right.”

If only you knew then just how awfully torturous it would be to listen to him, knowing what he was doing — most importantly, knowing what it felt like to have him.

Lust completely clouds your judgment when it comes to Hyunjin, and you soon find yourself coming back to his apartment until it becomes an annoyingly pleasurable habit.

Every day, when he hears you get home from work, your phone buzzes with a text asking that you come over and help him ‘warm up for his job.’ The nights of suffering in your bedroom have transformed into watching him from the corner of his room, enthralled with the way he can make himself come on camera so eagerly and later fuck you with just as much vigor.

It’s a nice arrangement, but definitely not one you see yourself in for the long run. Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but you’re not foolish enough to anchor your feelings to someone like him. It’s not his job that’s the problem, but mostly his attitude toward life. He belongs to nobody, while you yearn to belong to someone. Routine is the last thing on his mind, while you revel in its comfort. You could never be with someone like him.

But it is a nice arrangement.

So you find yourself back in his bed again today, his heavy cock in your mouth as he tugs harshly on your hair, painting the back of your throat with his cum. Except this time, he doesn’t immediately ask you to leave.

“What?” You ask, “Don’t you have to go clubbing or something?”

“It’s my day off,” he shrugs, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close and falls back into bed. You furrow your brows, detangling yourself from him.

“Day off? From what, picking up girls?”

Hyunjin chuckles, eyes sleepy. “I work at the club,” he simply says. “I’m a host, I just act like I go clubbing when I talk about it during my lives ‘cause my viewers can be a bit stalkery.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of The Siren?” He asks, and you hum, recalling a faint memory of some of your co-workers mentioning the club in passing. “That’s where I work.”

You nod slowly, still confused. “What exactly does a host do?”

“Well, basically, I get to make money just by making lonely women feel wanted.”

You can’t help but scoff at his crude description. “And do you fuck them?”

“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s obvious. “It’s part of the job.”

“Fucking hell,” You let out a hearty laugh, to which Hyunjin shoots you a questioning look. “Your sex drive really should be studied.”

His lips upturn into a smirk, and his arms reach for you again, beckoning you back into his embrace. “No need to be jealous, baby. I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you into his chest. He threads his fingers through your hair, and you can’t help but feel… awkward.

“You’re kind of an asshole, Hyunjin.”

He hums. “Sure, but you still let me fuck you.”

You two stay that way for a while, his fingers massaging your scalp as he presses a kiss to your head now and then. It feels disorienting, like a sudden shift from everything Hyunjin had been until now. He was never caring or sweet, he never kissed you if you weren’t fucking, and he surely never cuddled you. Your face involuntarily contorts into a grimace.

You detach yourself from him, getting up from the bed and telling him you’ll see him later. But Hyunjin is grabbing at your arm with a smile.

“Come on, don’t be sad,” he giggles as you try to free yourself from his grip. “I’m really not the type of guy you should have fallen for, anyway.”

You still at his words, face contorting into pure befuddlement. “Fallen for? Who the fuck says I’ve fallen for you?”

And Hyunjin simply scoffs, letting go of your arm as his smile shifts into his characteristic grin. “Well, there’s a reason I’m number one among the hosts at The Siren.”

“Hyunjin, those girls aren’t exactly after you for your personality,” you deadpan. “You’re really nothing worth falling for.”

His grin slowly fades, and it’s his turn to have confusion take hold in his eyes. “What?”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting this. Almost as if he was expecting you to have truly fallen for him simply because he… is him. And you can’t help but chuckle at the situation.

“Hyunjin,” you call out to him sweetly, and his gaze is back on you immediately. “You’re a nice fuck, but that’s really it. Don’t worry about me falling for you.”

You can swear you see a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but it’s likely only your imagination. He opens his lips to speak but promptly closes them again. He simply stares up at you from where he’s sat on the bed and almost looks sweet. If you didn’t know him, you would undoubtedly be charmed by this convincing facade. You have to give it to him; you do understand why he’s number one at his job.

“But…” He trails off, shaking his head. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow, right?”

“Sure,” you shrug. “We can keep fucking until I find something better.”

You run your fingers through his long hair and make your way to the door, leaving him with an expression frozen in bewilderment.

Hyunjin might kiss you and hold you close as he fucks you, but he’ll never be yours.

But that’s not a problem, as you surely will never be his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings

#stray kids #hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #skz

[misspearly1]

Hush

Pairing: Joel Miller x You (F!Reader) 

Summary: There are many benefits to renting an apartment with your best friend; you can split the cost of bills and keep the spare cash, thus fattening your savings in the bank. The only downside however, is bringing your Texas born and raised boyfriend back to your place and trying to stay quiet when things become a little intimate between you and the man.

Keeping quiet proves to be a difficult task, especially since he can’t keep his hands off you, and when you become a little too vocal in the bedroom, well… he has to hush you. 

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. TLOU AU; the outbreak never happened in this story. Established Relationship. Date Night in the city. Teasing/Flirting. Kissing. Hand Holding. Smut. References of Public Sex/Foreplay. Mentions of Oral Sex. Unprotected PIV Sex (wrap it up irl folks). Rough Bathroom Sex. Joel holding his hand over Readers mouth to keep her quiet. Squirting. Soft aftercare and lots of Fluff. If I have missed anything in the warnings, please don’t hesitate to call it out, thanks! 

AN: Oh, how I miss writing oneshots for this sexy fella. I really enjoyed this one, my loves. I hope you like it as well. 🥰

Living in the heart of Austin, Texas wasn’t your first choice, hell, it wasn’t even your second choice, but you’ve lived in the city for five years now and there’s a lot of things you're going to miss when you eventually move out of your apartment and buy your first house. 

You’ll miss the serenity of waking up before everyone else and walking to work when the streets are almost bare and light with traffic. It’s calm and pleasant during those hours of the morning, and you’ll miss visiting all of your local cafes and coffee shops too, especially the owners and workers you’ve become friends with since you’re one of their regulars. You’ll miss living with your roommate too and all the things you’ve grown to love here.

Venturing out into the city on a Friday evening however, is not something you are going to miss. It’s what you consider to be the busiest day of the week since people are finishing work and heading into the weekend with a lot of steam and wild energy to blow off. Even though the nightlife of Austin has only just begun, you’re glad to be heading home to escape the mayhem. It’s much too busy for your comfort. You feel claustrophobic and suffocated.

The sidewalks are flooded with a slow-moving stream of pedestrians, the restaurants and clubs thronging with partygoers spilling out the doorways - their chatter, screaming or fighting deafening your ears - and the pavement you walk along is wet and sticky from spilled booze and food.

Oh yeah. This won't be missed, you thought with slight disgust. The streets will be cleaned tomorrow morning, but it’s a shame to see them so messy and littered with trash. Frankly, you would have much preferred to stay home this evening, but what brought you outside this busy Friday night was the guy you’re seeing - who is currently opening a cab door for you both to climb inside and make a swift getaway.

The night might have just begun for some people in the city, but yours is coming to a blissful end, and after you had practically thrown yourself into the backseat, eager to get home and relax, he jumped in after you with the same sense of enthusiasm and gave the cab driver your address instead of his, thus making you turn to look at him with a quizzical expression. “My place tonight?” You asked, a surprised tone in your voice. 

“Yeah,” Joel replies keenly. “Tommy and Sarah will be asleep now. I don’t wanna wake 'em up and besides, your place is closer,” he adjusts his seating position to better suit his comfort by wrapping an arm around your lower back and pulling you into his side. “Is that okay with you, babydoll?” he asks, his voice softened with affection, and even if it wasn’t ok with you, that thick southern drawl of his would make it ok. You nod softly with a small smile on your lips, “Mhm. Yeah, that’s perfectly fine with me,” you whispered. 

Upon noticing the way you were lustfully gazing at him, he mirrors your little smile and winks, the flirty gesture making your cheeks heat up with flattery. He reaches out to place his finger on your chin, keeping you in place as he leans in slowly and closes the gap. It was a chaste peck on your lips, yet it was electrifying. The way he looked back at you, his eyes honeyed with desire and passion, sparked an arousing sensation in your core. You were turned on rather quickly. It didn’t take much and it’s all because of a simple gesture, but Joel knows how to make you feel horny in the most uncomplicated ways. 

You feel happy in his presence tonight - you always do - but more happy than you’ve ever felt before. Since you’ve been dating the man for six months now and have slept together plenty during that time, it’s abundantly clear that he’s still into you and isn’t looking for something casual. Despite the fact that he did tell you from the beginning that he’s not looking for a fling, you always take those words with a pinch of salt from guys, never fully trusting that they’re being serious to save yourself the heartbreak later down the line. You like to think that actions speak louder than words, and so far, Joel’s actions have been loud and clear on how he feels about you. 

As he turns away to look out the window and watch the sidewalk crammed with people pass by, you watch the ample glow of neon lights gliding across his face, the pretty colors highlighting his handsome features gracefully. His date night attire was pleasing to look at also. He wore a clean black fitted shirt, long sleeved but the fabric was neatly folded up his arms, and the top two buttons of his shirt were left open which generously displayed the sexy distinct veins in his neck, the cut off point of his summer tan and the hair nestled at the top of his chest. The dark blue jeans and belt really tied his outfit together though, accentuating his tall and muscular build. He looked really good, and all of the men and women who turned their heads to eye him up tonight would agree. 

Joel is older than you, not to a great extent, but you sometimes wonder if all men age like fine wine or if it’s just him. You’ve seen pictures of him in his younger days and he was good looking back then too. Having said that though, it came as quite a shock to even find him on a dating app all those months ago. Suppose you have his daughter and his brother to thank for pushing him back into the dating world otherwise your paths wouldn’t have crossed together. You wouldn’t be here right now feeling his calloused fingertips caressing your knee, his hand threatening to travel up your bare leg and disappear under your skirt at any given second. You see that little smirk on his face, the corner of his lips turning upwards ever so slightly with the filthy thought of fingering you in the backseat of a cab. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done something so sexually audacious and it won’t be the last either. 

Joel’s personality is generally rather reserved and private overall. He has to connect with someone before opening up to show everything about himself; all the good, the bad, the ugly and his vulnerabilities too. It didn’t just happen overnight with you or after the first date. It took time for him to reach the level of comfortability and openness where he’s at right now, and you’re most grateful for it because he’s more than just his good looks. He’s a big softie and a gentle giant, a family man who is protective, kind and compassionate. He has many features besides his appearance that you adore so much, and while you still admire all those pretty coloured neon lights gliding across his handsome face, you think highly of everything else about the man too. Flaws and all, including the bad, the ugly and his vulnerabilities. 

Your deep train of thought comes to a halt with the cab pulling up outside your apartment block; it was situated right on the shores of Lady Bird Lake and just a five minute walk away from the Texas State Capitol. This location is divine, perfectly placed in the city where it isn’t too noisy nor too quiet, and you like that balance. You’ll miss your apartment, but Scarlett Nicholson is someone you’ll miss most of all. She is your best friend and roommate. You moved in together to split the cost of bills and help each other save up enough money to move out someday, and considering you’ve both amassed enough savings, that might be any day now. 

After beating Joel to the chance of paying the cab driver, you both climbed out the car and made your way to the main entrance, the cold night-time breeze whipping between the buildings causing your skirt to lift up and expose your underwear. He grins from ear to ear at the sight of you frantically trying to cover your ass, then stands behind you and pulls you flush against his chest whilst holding your hips firmly. “Here. Let me help with that,” he said with a burgeoning excitement, his bellowing laughter tickling your neck. “Showing all yer goods to the neighbours there, doll.” 

“Only person seeing these goods is you, Joel.” You scoff jokingly. Holding onto his hands and approaching the main doors to your apartment building, the wind was still causing your skirt to lift up, but at least now your backside was concealed by his body. “Thanks for laughing at me before stepping in to help, babe. I really appreciate that,” you giggle with a modicum of chide in your tone. 

“Of course. Anytime darlin’,” he chuckles before opening the door for you. Once you were inside and out of the cold, he didn’t let you go of you and continued to walk with his chest pinned to your back, using the close proximity to place open mouthed kisses on your neck. It was a little difficult to walk properly, but you didn’t mind all that much since the hold he had over you was intoxicating. The man sucked on your skin, leaving a pretty little bruise behind whilst humping your ass exaggeratedly, the movements making your whole body bob up and down as you walk up the stairwell. He was really grinding his hips into you and it was more of a humorous gesture rather than sexual, the sight could only be described as silly and perverted.

“Joel, there are cameras here.” You warn, then throw your head back with amusement. It didn’t matter to you that there were cameras here. You didn’t care, but you did care about the possibility of someone walking down the stairwell and seeing your boyfriend acting like a man starved of your touch. He stopped with the exaggerated movements in his hips, but continued to grind into you at a subtle and barely noticeable pace. It was nice and delicate, pleasurable. 

Upon reaching the second floor and entering the corridor, you and Joel keep the noise down as you approach your apartment. As well as the fact that there are other people here and you don’t want to disturb them, Scarlett will be in bed fast asleep for work tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb her either. She awakes in the early hours of the morning just like yourself, arriving at work sometimes as early as four o’clock. Even though she probably wouldn’t mind you accidentally making too much noise, you keep in mind that the woman needs her sleep just like everyone else does. 

After unlocking your front door quietly and slipping inside with Joel, you make your way to your kitchen while he locks up for you. The apartment was in complete total darkness and Scarlett's door was shut, which only confirmed that she was indeed fast asleep and you should keep the noise down to a minimum. While you grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge, Joel entered your bedroom and made himself at home. You found the man sitting on the edge of your bed, his socks and shoes already removed along with his shirt. He was in the middle of unfastening his belt before you kindly offered to do it for him. “Let me help with that,” you whispered. 

Moving across the room and placing the bottles of water and your phone on the bedside table, you watch the man lean back onto his hands and spread his legs apart, giving you more access as you kneel to the floor and nestle between his thighs. As you get into position for him, he looks down at you with a smile on his face, his hair slightly dishevelled as you reach out to open his belt. You feel his muscles tense in his thighs and hear the way his breath hitches, a soft grunt caught in the back of his throat. “You alright up there, stud?” You ask quietly, seduction rolling off your tongue. “You’re looking a little hot.” 

“Mmm. M-hm,” Joel hums deeply, not confirming nor denying your statement about the way he looks. He didn’t need to. You were right and he knows it. He was burning up under your touch, the placement of your hands directly over his crotch making the blood rush straight to his cock. You look up at him with doe-like eyes, a suggestive look in your expression as the position you’re sitting in gives you naughty ideas. “You know, while I’m down here,” you begin to say, but pause briefly when he smirks, “Do you want me to…” you poke your tongue into your cheek, then watch as he palms himself and groans softly, no doubt picturing you sucking him off. 

“I um-” he clears his throat, snapping out of his train of thought, “-I’d love that babydoll, but you know how I can get quite vocal when you…” he stops mid-sentence when noticing the slight disappointment in your eyes. You love to take care of Joel, and he knows how much to like it too, but he’s right. He can get really vocal when your mouth is stuffed full, gulping back as many loads as he can offer. The man just wants to be respectful of your roommate and neighbours, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want you. He leaned forward and the swiftness in his movements took your breath away. “Sit on my lap instead,” he offers an alternative, “Gotta stay quiet, don’t we girl?” he growls, his voice deep with hunger to feel your warmth wrapped around him, “I’ll bury my face into your tits. That’ll keep me quiet.” 

“Mmm Joel…” you bite your lip, stifling a moan, “Don’t tease me with a good time now, baby.”  

“No teasing, darlin’,” he shakes his head, his tone firm. “Get up here already,” he reaches out for you, his impatience evident in the way he sweeps you off the floor and pulls you onto his lap. The action makes you want to cry out a moan of his name, but you fight the urge and grip onto his biceps instead, steadying yourself as he drags your hips over his crotch deliberately. He pats your ass twice, silently telling you to lift up for him, which you do without hesitation and then feel him yanking his jeans down eagerly to free himself from the confines of his boxers. You physically hear his cock spring back and slap his lower stomach, the sound was audible and sexy, but now that he was free of his clothes, he turned his attention to your clothes. 

Taking your shirt off hastily along with your bra, you throw the clothing over your shoulder and reach for your skirt before he suddenly grabs your hands. “No, not that,” he whispers, then looks into your eyes, “Keep that on for me, doll. I like the way it looks on yer,” he says. You nod to him, panting slightly under your breath with anticipation as you stand up to remove your panties. They couldn’t have come off any quicker before you took a seat back on Joel’s lap, feeling his cock pressing into your slicked folds made you stifle a whine. 

He licked the tip of his fingers and coated his cock with his spit, holding you steady to notch himself at your entrance. “Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, and waits patiently for your answer. Joel usually spends a lot of time preparing you for the stretch, getting you ready for him with his head between your legs extracting as many orgasms as you can give, but not tonight - tonight you need him desperately.

“Yes, baby,” you breathe, nodding fervently. He eased himself inside before holding your hips with a tight grip, letting you take over and direct the pace. The breach was most enjoyable, your walls stretching open to accommodate his size as you sit down on his cock, causing the man to grunt and choke on his moans of pleasure before it inevitably became too much and he had to bury his face into your breasts.

You, on the other hand, had to bite the back of your palm, muffling all your pretty little whines and whimpers as you took him inside. His size was impressive, no matter how many times you’ve taken him before, it’s always a pleasant stretch. After you had taken him whole, still struggling to keep quiet as well as him, he was yet to pull his face away from your boobs. Joel breathed raggedly, savouring the sensation of your warmth wrapped around him and the tightness of your cunt squeezing his cock. You were soaking wet, the desire oozing out of you coating the hairs on his mound. 

He was so hot. You could feel his face burning into your chest, the sweat beginning to gather along his brow as you continued to clench around him purposely. Rocking back and forth once before coming to an abrupt stop at the sound of your bed hitting the wall, the man huffs frustratedly into chest and grabs handfuls of your ass, “Hold on,” he warns seconds before standing up with you held in his arms, the action making you gasp with pleasure. It was loud. Unintentionally loud and you instantly worried about waking up your roommate. “Hang on, darlin’. I got an idea,” he says before walking toward your bathroom. 

After carefully closing the door behind him, he moved toward the sink and sat you down on the edge, hoping the new location would muffle the noise a little better. “You good?” He asks once again before picking up where you left off. You wrap your legs around his back, pulling him into you before resting your head to his shoulder. “Yes.. God yes. Please Joel,” you beg, needing to feel him fuck you just the way you like it. He could sense that desperation in your voice and knew exactly what you were asking for. What you were really in need of.

There’s a time and a place to make love, but this isn’t that time nor the place. You want it rough, and he didn’t keep you awake any longer. Hooking his arms under your legs and locking his hands together around your back, the position bending your body to his will, he buried his chin into the nook of your neck before pulling out of your cunt, leaving only the tip inside. You braced yourself for the thrust, knowing it was going to be breath-taking.

Only it wasn’t. Instead, he damn near punched the air out of your lungs when he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion before pulling out and repeating the action. You could barely breathe and you loved it. You loved hearing his balls slapping against your ass and the deep grunts of satisfaction escaping his lips as speared into you. His voice was so broken and guttural, the sound making you mewl into his neck. 

He kept his thrust short and fast, using the hairs on his mound to stimulate your clit and bring you towards that familiar peak. It was too much, yet equally not enough at the same time. His pace was wild and untamed, as if using your pussy for his own satisfaction. You fought to stay quiet, and it was a battle that you were losing. The man quickly pulled his head back from your neck to clamp his hand over your mouth and silence your mewling cries of pleasure.

“Nnghh… much better,” he smirks, panting a praise “That’s a good fucking girl. Taking me so well, Y/N. Aren’t yer?” He asks, and you nod frantically, moaning as your cunt gushes around him. “I need yer to come for me darlin’. C’mon, you can do it.” 

Your vision begins to blur as you let go, the peak of your climax hurtling toward you so quickly that you felt light and weightless, limp in his arms. It was extreme and intense, ecstasy taking over your entire body as you felt a burst of liquid escape you, the essence of your orgasm drenching his legs.

“Fuck,” He growls, his brows knitting together tightly. “Keep soaking me, darlin’. C’mon,” he says, and continues with the punishing thrusts in and out of your cunt, drawing out every ounce of desire you could possibly give. 

The man panted and moaned victoriously, his voice resonating a heavy sense of pride to make you squirt all over him. “Oh shit, shit!” He coos pathetically, pulling out at the last second and releasing his warmth all over your pussy. You rested your head to his chest, looking down at his cock and watched him spill ropes upon ropes of his seed. It was twitching, the prominent veins along his length bulging and his balls pulling up each time he released a creamy white load. “Ohh fuuck,” he breathes and rubs the tip through your folds, smearing the mess he made. “Goddamn. That was… fuck, that was beautiful.” He lifts your head to look in your eyes, “You’re so beautiful, Y/N… Are you ok?” He asks. 

“Yeah baby,” you nod, your eyes slowly closing with exhaustion as you rest your cheek against his check. He reaches behind you and runs the tap, grabbing one of your hand towels on the rail to hold it under the water. “Give me a second. We’ll go lay down after I take care of this,” he says, bringing the wet towel between your legs to clean you off, the contact of his hand making you whine. “M’sorry, sweetheart,” he says apologetically, knowing that you're overstimulated.

After he was finished taking care of you, he wiped down his legs too and laid a couple more towels on the floor to soak up the mess before wiping it down as much as he could. He picked up the items and placed them in the laundry basket by the door, making sure the place was somewhat clean. It made you smile to watch him not only take care of you, but your apartment too.

“Thank you, handsome,” you reach out and hold his arms before moving off the countertop, the wobbly feeling in your legs making you fall into him. “Jesus. I haven’t felt like this in a little while. Walk with me babe, I don’t trust my legs right now.” You laugh bashfully, the sweet sound of your voice making the man chuckle with you.

Walking back into the bedroom with him holding you closely, he pulled the covers back on your bed and together, you climbed in. The very moment you got comfy, your phone chimed and lit up the entire room. You sighed worryingly and instantly assumed the worst. “Shit. Please say I haven’t woken you up,” you mutter under your breath, hoping that it wasn’t Scarlett texting to say that you and Joel were too noisy and now she is awake.

Grabbing your phone off the bedside cabinet and looking at the screen with a pang of guilt, you lay back into Joel’s side and show him. “Ah fuck,” he sighs with the same sense of guilt as you. It was Scarlett texting, and you unlocked your phone to read the message together. ‘Hey, gorgeous. I know it’s super late, but Jake called after you left with Joel. I’m staying at his place tonight so don’t wait up for me. Love you.’ 

Silence befell you and Joel upon reading that message. Not a single word was spoken, but the humorous little smiles on your lips as you both shook your head spoke loud and clear.

All that effort to stay quiet and she wasn’t even home to begin with.

Tagging

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#this post is queued! #joel miller #joelmiller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfictions #joel miller fiction #tlou au #the last of us au #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joelmillerfluff #pearlyfics #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #enjoyreaders

[lizzychanstuffss]

Hi, I saw you were taking prompts! Could you write something where human Tav (or any non-darkvision race) and Astarion are exploring somewhere dark (maybe some ruins or a cave) and Tav's torch goes out. So they have to rely on Astarion to guide them the rest of the time?

My first question! Of course I am more than happy to fill your request! I’m still getting used to writing for Astarion’s voice so I apologize if he sounds a bit ooc.

Astarion x human!Tav GN

Set in act 2 since it's convenient for the request

Choosing to scout ahead with just two of you seemed like a good idea back at camp, but you both sorely underestimated how dark the shadow-cursed lands truly would be. Not to mention how creepy they would end up being as well. Neither you nor Astarion really expected it. Going from the sunny mountain pass to the beautiful bioluminescent Underdark, nothing could compare to this.

It was all shadows and nightmares and it was just awful, the torch you held was barely cutting through the darkness, although a particular pale elf was walking with no issue.

"How can you see through all this darkness so easily, Astarion?" raising an eyebrow as you squinted trying to get a good look at his features.

"Darkvision, my dear" he played it off so easily, of course. You let out a slightly annoyed sigh which he couldn't help but chuckle in response to before he teased back.

"Well Shadowheart did offer to come instead of you, darling"

"I am perfectly fi-"

whoosh

"Ah!" Astarion let out a startled yelp as the torch was put out by a surprise gust of wind. By this point in time you had been blessed by the pixie so the shadow curse getting you wasn't an issue, but you still couldn't see anything through this thick fog of shadow.

"Astarion?" defeated you called out to him holding your arms out as you tried to feel where the man was standing.

"I'm here, my dear" He hesitated at first before taking your hands in his. You couldn't help but smile a bit seeing him even be willing to touch you like this, but considering there was no good way to relight the torch he figured this to be the best option.

Looking around with ease he began walking, "Where are we going?" you asked slightly confused as you stumbled over your feet.

"Back to camp, of course, as much as I want to trust we won't be attacked in this darkness, I don't trust you to be of any use without darkvision" sighing a bit because frankly, he was right. Without a torch and without any way to relight it, you were fairly useless at the moment.

So continuing on you two walked, although you couldn't help but notice he was walking a bit slower than normal.

"You know you don't have to go so slow, I'll be fine if you speed up" you spoke, and then Astarion stopped and you were fairly certain he turned back to face you forgetting that you couldn't see him, only imagining how he got embarrassed as he forgot this little detail.

"I...I thought it would be better if I slowed down so you don't trip and fall on your face unless you would prefer I just let you fall and make a fool of yourself" That classic sass of his coming through but you simply rolled your eyes and gave him a smile.

"You're adorable when you get like this" The words rolled off your tongue you could swear the man froze in time, but only for a moment before composing himself.

"And you're adorable when you're trying to tease me~" you could almost make out a smirk on his face through what little shapes you could find painting his figure. Wordlessly he turned and continued his guidance, giving you time to try and think of something clever to say back. But if he was going to say things like that then maybe silence was the better option overall.

Eventually the two of you made it back to camp, the warmth and color filling both of your views "Ah finally not total darkness!" happily you took in the sight of the fire before turning to Astarion with your hand still in his.

"Do you want to sit in your tent or by the fire?" tilting your head as you gave him an option he seemed rather confused by the question.

"I suppose....my tent?" raising an eyebrow as he spoke unsure what your ploy was. While he was still getting used to this being a couple things you were trying your best to do little things that you thought he might enjoy.

"Alright, well then let's go" letting go of his hand as you began to walk before he grabbed it and walked with you back to his tent, getting a smile out of you. 

#astarion #astarion x reader #baulders gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion romance #bg3 spoilers #astarionfics #my writing

[bonny-kookoo]

Omg I’m so happy that Seven Days drabbles are welcome! Could I request things like Seven Days MC purposely pushing JK’s buttons to see what happens?

A/N: Hi hello please request for Seven I wanna write for it so bad but I can't because it gets reported please I LOVE THEM SO MUCH-

-> Masterlist

Considering that Jungkook isn't at all what you're used to when it comes to men, it's also surprising to you how your simple interest and somewhat almost childish crush on him has turned into curiosity.

And it's also become quite.. fun to play around with him a little, turning the tables around for a change.

He's not actually ever openly told you what he's into- he always just seems to adapt to whatever you seem to like, and in your own humble opinion, that's just not fair. Is he secretly a sadist? Or into stuff you definitely aren't? You want to know. You don't want him to just bend his bones around you, just so you're happy.

You want him to be happy too.

Something you've learned about him by pure observation alone, is that he literally seems to buzz whenever he can do something for you. He fully immerses himself into caring for you, even if it's just 'hey, can you maybe watch the soup on the stove while I shower?'. It's cute, in a way, how he becomes happy at every touch you offer him.

He's a cuddler, even though he tends to end up in quite frankly ridiculous positions during his sleep- and it also offered one of these 'happy-buzz' moments with him.

He'd mentioned, very fleetingly, how he seems to sleep really well next to you at night these days. How he usually wakes up with a sore throat, and neck pain- but that it's pretty much gone now. You'd told him, equally as nonchalantly, how you noticed that he tends to move into an odd position at night, which makes him snore due to his head being tilted back too far- and that you've started to wake up from it. At first, he'd clearly wanted to apologize- but then you'd said that you just turn him a little, or adjust his pillow, because you already worried about him not sleeping well otherwise.

The look on his face was priceless; eyes all round and lips slightly parted, an expression of surprised affection that seemed to even catch him off guard as he had to visibly shake himself out of it, laughing it off before he thanked you, occupying himself with poking at his food instead to gloss over the almost shy smile growing on his lips.

And it's also really fun to test his patience.

You're not sure if he's aware of your games, but even if he is, you don't really care. Seeing him look at you with his jaw clenched and lips pursed, words on his lips but never spoken, hands having to physically hold onto something as to not move, it makes you feel empowered. You're not worried about any actual consequences- because even if there were any, he'd never hurt you.

You trust him. You're not scared of him.

"Hey, can you give me that?" He asks as you struggle to open the water bottle, but you whine, turning away from it as you continue to fight with the plastic cap. "Darling come on, just let me do it for you-" He chuckles, but you get up now instead, so he can't reach it.

There it is. The first sign- his tongue playing with the silver piercings on his bottom lip.

"You're gonna hurt yourself-" He tries again, voice still soft, but you shake your head.

"I can do it." You deny, now even moving to use your teeth for help- when he gets up, walking over to you.

"Stop being a brat, let me help-" He attempts once more, but you now walk again- falling into a little jog as he grabs for your shirt, fingers barely reaching the straps of it which snap right back against your skin. "Baby..." He threatens now, voice low and challenging. But you're not intimidated.

He's yet to actually prove his dominance, after all.

He thinks you can't take it. You know that's probably what he believes- that you can't handle it, that you're fragile and weak and oh-so-delicate. But you're not. You're not sure if he's turned you into this, but in a way, you've developed almost a hunger for what he might do to you if you were to finally make his patience snap.

You've gotten close before- you're getting close right now, you're sure.

But how much does it take for him to finally put you in your place?

And how will he do it?

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook drabble

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Creature of the Night

Task Force 141 X Platonic!Reader

While that was always true, there was something about the situation you couldn’t shake. You knew better than to poke a sleeping bear, even if Price was only a bear figuratively.

A/N: hi! I've had this idea stuck in my head for a few days, and thanks to @gaylemonshark for always fueling my ideas I finally had ambition to sit down and write, so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none really, maybe mentions of wounds(nothing graphic, just a small accident)

You’d only recently joined the task force, Kate being the reason your file had ended in the hands of one John Price. You were thankful, not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, however you were also skeptical of some things. While the Captain, as well as the other recruits, were friendly and treated you well, they seemed…odd. They would leave on missions at the most random times, never calling you into briefing. More often than not it was strictly the four of them heading off, assuring you it would only be a couple weeks before they came back. While that was always true, there was something about the situation you couldn’t shake. You knew better than to poke a sleeping bear, even if Price was only a bear figuratively.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on and I’m going to figure it out,” You huffed softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You think they’re selling secrets to the enemy?” Private Johnson was a newcomer, fresh faced and barely old enough to even legally be in the army.

“No, John’s too ‘fuck the enemy’ to willingly sell information,” It was one of the theories you’d had, but after writing up reports it was pretty clear that wasn’t the case.

So what would the case be if they weren’t running off to the enemy to spill secrets, and none of them had secret families, not that you could find at least. You’d done all the research you could, slightly illegal at times you were sure, but curiosity had gotten the better of you. Johnny was the middle child between two sisters. Gaz was the oldest, a younger brother and sister he often visited when able. Simon was a lot harder to figure out, his file was almost entirely blank except for his name, age, and birth date. John’s didn’t surprise you at all, oldest brother of six kids(jesus)and had joined the day he turned eighteen. His father had been a general before he passed away, it seemed so fitting.

Your eyes locked on Gaz and Johnny as they walked into the mess hall, Johnny’s accent thicker than a bowl of oatmeal in the middle of winter. No one could understand a word he said whenever he got excited, or angry, or stressed. Frankly, most of the time no one could really understand the Scot. He did his best around you to keep his words clearer, considering Simon’s accent tended to get thicker whenever he was pissed off.

“You look like you’re thinking real hard,” Johnson leaned closer, whispering softly so no one could hear your conversation.

“I swore that Soap shaved this morning, but he’s already got a five o’ clock shadow going,” Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the other man.

The stubble on his cheeks was darker than this morning, you were absolutely positive of that, but how would that even be possible? You’d walked in on him shaving, he had the razor against the skin of his neck, the sound of thick hair being shaved off. So, how in the actual fuck was he sporting stubble dark enough it was mere days away from a beard?!

“Maybe his facial hair just grows fast, I’ve seen it happen before,” Johnson shrugged, as if your words were nonsense.

“There’s no way in hell it grows that fast. I’ll eat my left shoe if that’s true,” Okay, maybe that was taking things a step too far.

Suddenly, as if some higher power had called the man’s name from your direction, Johnny’s eyes landed on you and Johnson. Your heart plummeted, eyes widening as you immediately turned to face Johnson and pretend you weren’t staring down the other man.

“So, have you talked to that recruit you have a crush on?” You needed to change the subject lest Soap realize you were talking about him originally.

Johnson’s eyes widened, jaw dropping open as you suddenly called him out on the secret he’d drunkenly whispered to you only a few days prior. Was it a risky move bringing up something like that out of the blue? Maybe, but you were desperate.

“No, I haven’t had the chance to talk to her yet,” His cheeks flushed a light pink, it was kind of cute if he wasn’t so young, and dumb.

“Aye, what’re we talkin’ about over ‘ere?” Soap slapped his hands down onto the table in front of you, a smirk pulling up his lips.

“Sorry, my lips are sealed MacTavish,” You mimed locking your lips and throwing away the key as you smiled up at the other man.

He laughed loudly, a deep belly laugh as he threw his head back. Gaz watched with a raised eyebrow, though you could see a faint smile on his own face. It made you happy knowing that you could make your teammates laugh, though sometimes you wondered if it was genuine at times.

Okay! No more depressive thoughts at the dinner table.

“I’m sure they are, but Gaz ‘n I have to head out soon,” Johnny nodded over to where Gaz was standing.

“Oh? Where are you guys heading to?” Would he admit the truth? Or would you be wondering once again?

His lips parted as if he was about to answer before Gaz’s hand landed on his shoulder, grip tight as he whispered lowly into the other man’s ear. Johnny’s eyes widened almost comically before he straightened up suddenly.

“Sorry, duty calls.” Johnny didn’t wait for you or Johnson to say anything before he and Gaz were heading off.

You were definitely more curious now, what was so important that Johnny couldn’t even tell you whatsoever? You guys told each other everything, at least most of the time he actually bothered to come around. Maybe…maybe you just weren’t as close friends as you suddenly thought.

“Do you think they don’t like me?” Your voice was much softer, an edge of hurt at the mere thought the people you saw as friends saw you as nothing more than a nuisance.

“They definitely like you, the missions probably got them stressed and they’re doing their best not to worry you,” Johnson shrugged his shoulders, lower lip pushed out in a playful pout.

Your mind was racing with a million and one different thoughts, surely if any of them were truly stressed out they would come to you, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Okay, so maybe things hadn’t really gone back to normal once Gaz and Johnny came back from that last mission, but they were talking to you again! Price had even taken you on a mission with him, except now you were beyond sore and could barely get out of bed. An enemy had managed to sneak up when you’d had your back turned. Hell, the only reason you were even alive right now was because of your tac vest, their blade barely piercing the thick material.

“Sergeant, how’re you feeling?” Simon’s face wasn’t something you saw often, the man preferred keeping his personal life private, so seeing him in your room was a surprise.

“Like shit, didn’t think falling nearly two stories would hurt so much,” You chuckled weakly, wincing as pain shot up through your side.

“Yeah, that’ll happen,” Simon shook his head with a soft sigh, stepping over to your bedside before gently lifting your gown.

It was nothing more than a large bruise, the very center of it nearly black from how hard you’d hit the concrete. He hummed softly under his breath as he laid a gentle hand against the surprisingly large bruise. You groaned loudly, gripping the sheets in your fists as the heat from Simon’s hands seeped into your skin. Jesus, why the fuck was he so hot?(pun intended).

“I knew about the dangers of war when I signed up, falling out buildings wasn’t on that roster,” The heat of his palms slowly soothed the throbbing ache in your side.

“Accidents can happen, you know that better than any of us. Johnny nearly lost his head trying to disarm a bomb,” You weren’t entirely surprised by that, the man was insanely smart, but sometimes the enemy was just a little bit smarter.

You both sat in silence for a few more moments until Simon pulled his hand away from your skin, laying the gown back down so it covered your mottled skin. There was a slight tension filling the room, the urge to understand who your Lt. actually was.

“Try and get better, we need you in top shape,” Simon didn’t wait for your response before leaving the room quickly.

Your mind was suddenly racing, his skin felt like fire against your own, and while you’d spent a lot of time around a lot of different people, there was no way that was normal. No, that’s stupid to be thinking about, he was just a normal guy who tended to run hotter than the average guy. Nothing more than some silly thoughts.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were exhausted but couldn’t sleep as usual, so what’s better than sneaking out of your room and heading down to the mess hall to get a bite to eat? They wouldn’t care as long as everything was cleaned up afterwards, and you never left a mess anyway. Sighing softly you slipped on a pair of slippers and pulled a hoodie on to keep the chill out. As you slowly and quietly made your way down to the mess hall you realized there were more people inside. Who else would be awake this late at night?

“C’mon! I’m starvin’,” The voice was muffled by the door, the only light being the one they were using by their table.

You pushed the door open slowly, seeing Johnny, Gaz, Simon, and Captain Price all sitting around the largest table in the mess hall. The table was loaded with food, a slightly smaller pile of trash at the opposite end. Gaz was stuffing his face with what looked to be a burger and fries, while Johnny was stuffing his own with…garlic bread? To each their own.

“Hey,” You mumbled as you walked inside, heading straight for the freezer to see if your pizza rolls were still in there. 

You had threatened everyone on base that if they ate your food there would be hell on earth, mainly because getting into town to buy food wasn’t easy. Johnny’s head whipped around to stare over at you, almost as if he wasn’t expecting anyone to drop in on them. Then again, it was nearly one in the morning and they were all stuffing their faces as if they hadn’t eaten in days. Come to think of it, they almost always have appetites like this, keeping the fridge stocked is nearly impossible at times.

Getting a plate and your pizza rolls out of the freezer you pour a few onto the plate before placing it into the microwave. The boys were nearly silent as you waited for your food to cook, murmuring amongst themselves. Reaching to stop the microwave from beeping loudly as it hit End you pulled the plate out. Thanks to the many calluses on your thumb you could barely feel the heat from the plate.

“Have a good night boys,” You nodded quickly before heading down to your room to eat in peace.

You could have easily sat down with everyone and eaten, but there was something off about the way they stared over at you, as if they were watching you like predators. No, you weren’t going to sit here and assume your friends were secretly out to get you, that’s weird. With a soft grunt you plopped down onto your bed, pulling open your laptop to turn on a movie. Your eyes caught on a title you hadn’t watched in years. Twilight. Snickering you turned it on, picking up a pizza roll to see if it was actually cooled enough to eat. Not that that ever stopped you of course, but maybe this time would be different.

Normally you would eat your snack and fall asleep within a few minutes, tonight however was going to be a nightmare. You were absolutely hooked into the terrible movie, clicking onto the next one, and the next, and of course you couldn’t not finish the saga. Suddenly it was morning and you were shocked to see the sun, well now you were definitely going to be in trouble. Groaning you turned off your laptop and pulled your blanket up and over your head, exhaustion seeping into your bones like a weight.

By the time you opened your eyes again it was dark outside, the sky lit up with stars as you groaned. You were half tempted to go back to sleep, your body still aching for those few precious minutes. Unfortunately your stomach was rumbling, and your bladder was nearly bursting from being in bed for so long.

Pushing up and out of bed you headed into the bathroom to do your business and brush your teeth. After you’d done everything that was urgent you grabbed the plate from the night before and headed back down to the mess hall. As you headed into the mostly dark area you could see the boys all sitting together. They were eating again. This time though it looked like they had gotten take out from one of the Italian restaurants nearby. God, what you wouldn’t give to have a big plate of spaghetti ragu.

Shaking your head you ran over to the sink to wash your plate and make yourself some more pizza rolls. You didn’t have much energy to actually cook something proper, so something easy would have to be the way you went for the night. Price was staring over at you, waiting to see if you would make your way over to their table. Considering you hadn’t the night before the other three didn’t think you would bother.

The microwave beeped loudly, indicating your food had finished cooking while you were daydreaming about future missions. You quickly grabbed your plate and headed over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“Have a good night, boys,” You nodded towards them before heading back to your room.

Your shoulders were sagging with exhaustion when you made it back to your room, carefully setting the plate and water down before sitting in bed. Instead of turning on a movie, knowing it could keep you up, you turned on a show. It was mainly background noise as you quickly ate your dinner, sipping your water every now and then. Once your plate was empty, and your belly full, you scooted down into bed. Your eyes slipped closed, unable to keep them open a minute longer as you fell asleep. Dreams plagued with different werewolves and vampires, though they seemed so…similar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The entire base was in full swing, everyone letting loose with good food, and enough beer to drown an entire village. It was a way to thank the soldiers that were risking their lives daily, and it felt damn good. You’d had your fair share of drinks, laughing at Johnson’s jokes when his crush wasn’t around so she didn’t get the wrong idea. You made it clear to everyone on base that you had no romantic intentions for anyone, refusing to ruin a good thing. Johnson had wandered off, following Ashley, Amanda, Amber? Shit, maybe you were way more drunk than you’d realized if you couldn’t even remember her name.

“Gonna get some fresh air.” You mumbled to no one in particular, heading outside to see if the chilly air could help sober you up.

The air nipped at your exposed skin, goosebumps rising as you stared up at the full moon. It gave off a beautiful light, the stars that surrounded it twinkling in the inky blackness. You’d always been fascinated by space, and getting to actually see the stars meant a lot. Your body had a mind of it’s own, turning and stumbling off towards the barracks. As you kept walking you soon realized you weren’t in the barracks at all, in fact you weren’t on the base anymore. Shit, were you going to get lost in the woods and have to have someone find you? That’s beyond embarrassing.

A deep rumbling growl stopped you in your tracks, heart racing as you slowly turned to face the noise. If it was a bear you could possibly manage to outrun it, but being as drunk as you were there was a chance you’d just get killed. Two bright glowing eyes stared back at you, lips pulled back into a snarl as your heart dropped and you took off into a sprint. Branches tore at your skin, the scent of blood permeating the air as you pushed your legs to run even faster. You were thankful you’d worn your boots, not wanting to ruin a pair of nicer shoes.

Your feet came to a grinding halt as suddenly you were surrounded by what could only be described as giant wolves. You knew they were big, having seen the comparisons to a regular Siberian husky, but these? They’d be able to kill you with one swipe of their giant paws.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna die, this is how I die,” Your heart was racing, eyes comically wide as you watched the three wolves and…oh god were those mountain lions?!

“Y/N! It’s us!” Gaz’s voice echoed around you, the trees swaying slightly as the wind whipped around you.

Your throat closed up slowly as the rest of the task force and both Rudy and Alejandro walked over to where you’d stopped. How were they all here if you had just been surrounded by wolves and mountain-

“I fucking knew it!” You pointed an accusatory finger at each and every person standing around you.

Simon’s jaw dropped open, did you just say that you knew about the secret they’d tried so hard to keep hidden?! Are you serious right now?!

“How the fuck did you know?” Simon was almost angry, though he wasn’t sure if he was angry at you or because you somehow knew?

“You guys run off whenever there’s a full moon, you eat way more than everyone else, your skin nearly burned me when I fell out of that building…also I may have watched Twilight and found some similarities.” You admitted sheepishly.

Price was shocked and also affronted that you’d found out their hidden secret because of a movie made for teenagers?! Jesus, maybe he really was getting too old to deal with any of this shit. 

“So, are there more of you guys?” Your curiosity was piqued now, if your friends were werewolves and werecats, could there be more?

“Yes, but it’s not our place to say so when the time comes we’ll let them tell you, alright?” Price wanted to get back to the compound and sleep for the next few days if he could.

You were excited at the idea of meeting more people like your team, but you were also nervous they wouldn’t like you knowing who they truly were.

Sometimes real life is even stranger than fiction.

#task force 141 #task force x reader #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #john price fic #simon riley fanfic #john soap mactavish fic #kyle gaz garrick fic #call of duty fic

[7ndipity]

Bad Friend

Hoseok x Reader

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for the longest time but tried to ignore it, until you can't.

Warnings: angst, reader's a little jealous and a little drunk, but it's okay, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this, I've been wanting to write for Hobi more! I meant to post this last night, but I was super tired and fell asleep, sorry.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

'I should've just stayed home, what was I thinking?'

The same thought kept reverberating around your head to the beat of the music as you tipped back another drink, watching as Hobi luaghed with the others.

You know you should be happy, you should be over there with him, celebrating the release of his album, but all you could think as you watched him smile, saturated in purple light, was how much you wanted to leave.

You don't know it bothered you so much to see him so close with Minjae, she was just a friend and fellow dancer at the company, like you. It made perfect sense that he would be close with her too.

That's a lie, you knew perfectly well why it bothered you, you just didn't want to admit it that it was because you were head over heels for your best friend.

From the first day you met, the two of you had just clicked. You shared the same sense of humor and determination, and his bright and friendly nature had instantly put you at ease. It sounded more than a little cliche to use such a comparison for him, but Hobi coming into your life had felt like the first glimpses of sunlight after a thunderstorm.

The two of had quickly formed a close friendship, but as time had passed, you'd had the sinking realization that your feelings had grown well beyond those of just a friend.

You'd tried your best to ignore the persistent flutter in your stomach whenever he touched you or looked at you too long, but at times it felt nearly impossible.

You'd considered owning up and telling him, frankly there were times you wondered if he knew already and was feigning ignorance, which only furthered your belief that he wouldn't feel the same, and you were not about to risk one of the most important relationships in your life over a stupid one-sided crush.

You were friends, nothing more, and you would be fine with that...

Right?

Right now, you weren't so sure, as you watched him and Minjae, both of them seeming to keep a little too close as they talked, making your chest tighten painfully. You tried to tell yourself that it was fine, you were overreacting, but when he slung his arm around her shoulder as he laughed at something she said, you broke.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Jimin, who you'd spent most of the evening with, asked, noticing your sudden change in mood.

"I'm going home." You said, standing abruptly and slipping past him, determined to get out the crowded room before your emotions could get the best of you.

You'd barely made it halfway down the hall before you heard an all too familiar voice calling out your name behind you.

"Y/n!" Hobi pulled you to a stop as he caught up to you. "Jimin said you're leaving? What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, Hobi, please just go back to the party, they'll miss if you're gone too long."

"Not as much as I'll miss you." He said softly, reaching for your hand, but you jerked away, a little too quickly, resulting in you hitting your elbow against the wall and cursing under your breath.

"Don't say things like that!" You whined, clutching at the bruised limb.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because they make me feel things I shouldn't!" You snapped.

"Like what?"

Fuck, don't say it! But your mouth was faster than your brain.

"Like I love you!" You shouted. The words hung in the air as you stared at each other, frozen.

"You do?" He asked after a moment.

"I-uh... Yeah." You gave up, bracing yourself for his rejection.

"That's okay." He said.

You balked at him. "What?!"

"Yeah, I mean, I don't mind." He said, smiling slightly.

You blinked, unable to process the implication of his words.

"What are you doing? Why are you being so understanding?" You said, desperately trying to fight back the tears that were stinging your eyes. Why had you thought drinking was a good idea tonight? You knew you were overly emotional when drunk, anything could make you cry, including the way Hobi was currently staring at you. "Why can't you just be mad or hate me and make this easier?"

"Why would I hate you?" He asked, confused.

"Because I'm a bad friend!" You shouted. "I think and feel things about you that I shouldn't, and I get jealous when I have no fucking right to-!"

Your rant was cut short by Hobi connecting his lips with yours, your back hitting the wall behind you as you staggered in shock.

When he pulled back, it was only by a couple inches, resting his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

"You're not a bad friend." He whispered. "I like you, Y/n." He let out a shaky laugh. "I like you so much, it crazy. I thought you knew how I felt, but I should've just said it, I'm sorry."

"Really?" Was all you could manage in response, head still spinning.

"Really." He said, pulling back further to meet your eyes. "Is that okay?"

You nodded.

"Can you kiss me again?" You asked, making him laugh.

"Absolutely." He chuckled before pressing his lips to yours again, much more softly this time, but it was still enough to send a shiver up your back as you leaned into the kiss, getting lost in the feeling of him.

You didn't know how much time passed before you separated again, faces flushed and hair tousled.

"We should probably head back in there." You whispered.

"In a minute." He replied, not ready to let you go so soon, now that he was able to hold you properly.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok reaction #hoseok x y/n #hoseok fluff #hoseok scenarios #hoseok angst #hoseok drabble #bts scenarios #bts one shot #hoseok oneshot #bts fluff #bts angst #bts requests #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #7ndipity

[l0vem41l]

Forgive me if I disturb you, but if your requests are open can I have a romantic Glamrock Freddy x Animatronic Cat reader who's really shy and insecure about themselves?

skittish

「 tws + notes: no tws, SUPER unedited, animatronic cat reader, i love making stuff up thatz Not In Canon, writer is bad at animatronic reader writing (my bad), cat animatronic reader has cat-like behaviour becuz i Said So 」

「 gn!reader, romantic relationship <3 」

↳ ft. glamrock freddy (other glamrocks, the dca + vanessa mentioned)

author's note: no ur not disturbing me at all!!! ^_^ my fnaf reqs are were open!! :3 i don't typically write for animatronic reader so i hope i did this ok!! i'm so sorry if this was a little slow!! but tysm 4 ur patience! i hope u enjoy o(*￣▽￣*)ブ <3

▸ a new animatronic at the plex meant a new companion! a new opportunity for friendship! at least, that’s what freddy initially expected. every attempt to greet you was met with you fleeing, every friendly wave met with awkward silence as you quickly averted your eyes and pretended not to see— and conversations were nonstarters.

he started to get nervous that you didn’t like him. which was a very rare experience for freddy.

▸ he asks vanessa all abt you. what were you built for? were you a new glamrock? why did you not like him? :(

“officer vanessa! i was looking for you! if i may ask—” freddy’s sentence was cut off with an exasperated sigh from the overworked security officer, barely through her shift and already done with everything. she jus like me fr.

“if it’s about that cat you keep asking about, upper management barely gave me any information. i’ve told you what i know,” vanessa rubs the bridge of her nose, reciting the info she had already told freddy possibly a thousand times, “the new animatronic is under beta testing, currently coded to not be overly social in case people get attached, and probably not going to stay very long.”

his ear twitches at the last part.

“i… i see.” freddy nods thoughtfully, thanking vanessa politely, which she dismisses with a small shrug before walking off.

he doesn’t notice you around the corner, quick to leave the scene before your presence could be discovered.

▸ skittish. that is his first impression of you. your first interaction is nothing more than him grinning at you and greeting you with a “hello!”

this seems to startle you. he expects you to make your escape immediately, as per usual— but to his surprise, you manage to muster up the tiniest “hi” before leaving.

he’s giddy about the exchange all week. the others never hear him shut up about you, freddy always gushing about the progress he made with you.

monty considers decommissioning him over this /j

▸ while vanessa had informed him of the fact you were not particularly socially inclined for the sake of beta testing, freddy began to question if that was the truth. in a few weeks time, with plenty of attempts made to speak to you and the utmost amount of patient, you grow close to freddy.

one day, you express a distaste for the limelight. something about the amount of eyes being on you frightening you, he recalls. and he’s certainly never felt that way— made for the spotlight, made to perform— freddy has a hard time conceptualizing what that might be like. and while he may never understand, he’s determined to help 

▸ no, he won’t force you to be friends with everyone at the pizzaplex and frankly doesn’t think that’s a good idea— but he certainly tries to encourage you to talk to the others who are just as curious about you as he was

freddy can’t help but be worried though. what if chica overwhelms you with her chattiness? what if roxy intimidates you too much? what if monty scares you away? what if sun and moon— well… the daycare attendant is a whole other thing in itself.

so, yes, while wanting you to speak to others and interact, he can’t help but be just the tiniest bit protective. freddy really  doesn’t mean to hover. but yes, he looks out for you always. can’t have any of his hard work be undone! not after he spent so long trying to get you out of your shell.

▸ this ends up in you two developing a system when first meeting the others. freddy accompanies you, holding your paw in his. every so often in the conversation, he squeezes it gently to ask if you’re okay.

one squeeze back for yes, two for no.

this is especially helpful when you get overwhelmed or anxious midway through a conversation and have no idea how to end it. he’ll simply make an excuse and find a quiet place for the two of you to calm down. he’ll always tell you he’s proud of your progress at the end of meeting someone new. slowly but surely, freddy sees you grow into yourself more— and he’s just delighted :))

▸ he’s quick to reassure whenever you’re insecure, earnest as ever. when you grow comfortable enough around him, freddy likes to hold your hand when speaking to you. a very good listener, and an insanely good pep talker.

▸ freddy is busy almost constantly, but he chooses to spend his free time with you!!!!! you contemplate with him what you life will be like after your beta testing stage.

he tries not to think too hard about it. to him, you’re here to stay. you have to be! he’d miss the way you absentmindedly paw at things when your bored, the way your voice box emulates a purr when you’re content, the way your yawn was stupidly cute— annndd yes fine, whatever, he was getting attached.

your shyness may have been coded as a feature to keep people away, to deter any potential attachment before a finalization of your launch in the pizzaplex— but it never deterred freddy. It just drew him in closer. and how special he felt, getting to know you.

-

“i don’t think i’m built to be a glamrock,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence as freddy organizes his room. the gifts from fans are arranged purposefully by him, each one placed with utmost care. you're sitting at the edge of his couch, kneading into a throw pillow absentmindedly as he decorates.

“and what makes you say that?” he questions, gaze focused on putting up a drawing done by a young child, depicting him in an array of messy lines of marker. he straightens it out and places it on the wall, taping it down before giving it a little satisfied pat.

“i’m just not as good as you guys. you’re all total rockstars and i’m just… useless.” you trail off awkwardly, averting your eyes from him. “my consciousness could be programmed into a staff bot and i’d still manage to be lousy.”

he looks at you. a beat of silence before he speaks again.

freddy’s voice is soft. “you’re perfect, superstar. you could be a glamrock. you could be anything.”

you glance up and him. he knows you don’t believe him.

“you have a place here.” he reassures.

“yeah? where?” you challenge.

“with me!” freddy’s response is quick, ears wiggling happily as he declares it— it takes him a moment to process what words just came out of his mouth.

“...and chica, and roxy, and monty— the rest. you’re one of us, now.” he tacks the last part on quickly, feeling bashful.

still, you smile, feeling slightly flustered yourself. “you think so?”

“i’m certain.”

▸ freddy loves you. in all your skittish, awkward, shy glory— he loves you.

naturally, he’s ecstatic to receive the announcement you’re there to stay! he can’t wait to see how you grow into yourself, and of course— he’ll always extend a helping paw when you need him.

— reblogs always appreciated!

#fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #glamrock freddy #five nights at freddy's #glamrock freddy x reader #glamrock freddy headcanons #fnaf sb headcanons #fnaf security breach headcanons #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's security breach #i don't know how to tag anymore #animatronic reader

[materassassino]

The Old Guard Dæmon AU

Probably done before, but I wanted to write one myself, so I thought I'd make a guide to the Guard and their respective dæmons, to go with the fic I just posted for it.

Andy: Hwehnto (Przewalski's horse)

Yeah, a wolf or some other predator might fit, but let's face it, the supreme horse girl should have a horse for a dæmon. *h₂weh₁n̥to- is Proto-Indo-European for "wind", butchered into a modernly comprehensible Hwehnto/Hwento. He is a very serious and stoic dæmon, much like Andy, but his outbursts of emotion are striking. He is vicious in battle and will not hesitate to attack both human and dæmon, if necessary.

I did also consider a tarpan for Andy, but there is literally one photo in existence of one. I generally assume that actually it would be some European wild horse so old it doesn't exist anymore, and we've lost all modern knowledge of it. So Przewalski's horse will do.

Quynh: Minh Nhat (white-lipped pit viper)

Of course our viper would have a viper! Small, quick and venomous. He doesn't have a name yet because, frankly, I don't speak Vietnamese and I want him to have a cool name like most dæmons have. His name is Minh Nhat, which means "bright sunlight", in contrast with Quynh's name. More outgoing than most dæmons, will talk casually with other humans, and is prone to little acts of thievery (thimbles, small nuts, little trinkets), mostly out of delight with the object than any malice. Very tiny! Likes spending his time tucked up Quynh's sleeve. Will not hesitate to bite a human should the need arise, but tucks himself in Quynh's collar or scarf when in battle.

I was torn between this and a red-headed krait, but ultimately went to an actual viper (well, pit viper, close enough).

Joe: Tayyib (scimitar oryx)

(Oddly difficult to find a photo of one alone, with no radio collar, that hasn't been shot by some bastard trophy hunter).

Tayyib (named that way for obvious reasons and chosen by Joe's mother's dæmon) represents everything poetic and artistic about Joe, and is calm and wise. Dislikes fighting, but will if he must: watch out for those horns! Yes, he is a male dæmon, a rarity, another commonality Joe shares with Nicky. I wonder why? A very good listener who gives good advice.

I don't know why I decided on another ungulate for this hapless team (can they even go anywhere?), but I did. I figured a desert antelope of some kind would be good for Joe, and it was a toss-up between this and an addax. I admit I chose it just for the name.

Nicky: Bonamico (Luzon bleeding-heart dove)

Geographically, it doesn't make sense. Symbolically? I had to. Bonamico is quiet, contemplative and kind, barely speaks except to Nicky, Joe or Tayyib, but is always concerned for those about him. He is far more nervous than Nicky, but stores a lot of knowledge, a trait he does share with Nicky. His favourite place to perch, other than Nicky's shoulder, is between Tayyib's horns (although occasionally he likes to sit on Joe's head). He does the scouting for the group, as the only bird dæmon.

This bird is the entire reason I made this damn AU. It's just too perfect. Look at this Catholic-ass bird!

Booker: Amandine (black rat)

*wheezing* I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm not sorry.

Now, the problem with dæmons is that we have rat symbolism, which is of rats as dirty and sneaky, but we're also modern human beings that know perfectly well rats are cute, intelligent and affectionate creatures that make amazing pets. Amandine herself is mostly just shy and quiet, although she does like it when she gets the chance to roast Booker, but then again, who doesn't? She is their little reconnaissance expert, being sent in to buildings and small places to chew through wires and spy. She, unlike Booker, is always supremely well-groomed.

I did consider a ferret or stoat, something a little more noble, but I personally do love rats so much and so I wanted a positive rat dæmon, for once.

Nile: Dakarai (red wolf)

I wanted to give Nile something supremely American, but she was in the Marines, and soldiers of most kinds tend to have dog dæmons, so no stereotypical birds. But Nile is also smart and quick-thinking, and family-oriented, so the red wolf made sense to me. Dakarai is loyal and far more serious than his human, a bit more cynical. Having been trained in a modern Armed Force, post-Geneva Convention, he's never touched another human being and has exclusively fought other dæmons. He is, of course, a good tracker.

Someone had to have a canine in this group. Might as well be Nile!

Bonus (under the cut for cockroach reasons):

James Copley: Vindemiatrix (common raven)

The Odin symbolism of the knowledge-seeker raven, honestly. She perches in odd places, watches everything, and reports back. She is a secret-keeper and prone to keeping her own counsel, not interacting much with other dæmons. She, like Copley, misses his wife and her Pallas's cat dæmon something fierce.

Stephen Merrick: Unnamed (American cockroach)

Need I say more? He deserves it.

Dr Meta Kozak: Unnamed (hagfish)

A disgusting dæmon for a disgusting woman, who burrows into people's bodies and eats them from the inside out. She carries the horrid thing in a lightweight tank backpack, one of the many modern accomodations for people with water-dwelling dæmons.

Keane: Unnamed (Eastern black rhino)

A beautifully noble dæmon, unfortunately wasted on a bastard.

Lykon: Unnamed (melanistic leopard)

She was graceful, majestic and courteous, and absolutely breathtaking in battle. She would dispense affection to daemon and human alike, much like Lykon himself.

#the old guard #joenicky #andromache the scythian #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #nile freeman #sebastien le livre #quynh #daemon au #his dark materials #pixie writes #supplemental material

[optimizche]

Missing (Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon) [Part 9]

Warnings: Dubcon. ANGST. Violence.

It ached everywhere, you realized, almost as if your body had been bent unnaturally. Each muscle pulsed with exhaustion, your mind registering a delicious soreness nestled in between your legs. Memories of your night tugged your lips into a soft smile, a sigh leaving you as you made to rise from your bed to greet Jacaerys at the breakfast table.

Except, you couldn't move.

Scraps of silk remained wound taut around your wrists and ankles chafing against your delicate skin.

Your eyes flew open.

Awareness came at a startling rapidity, your eyes wide, darting around the room, taking in your surroundings. The room was bathed in the amber light of a fire crackling away in the hearth, scarce and minimal in its decor.

You realized that you weren't in Winterfell anymore, the epiphany affirmed by the sound of footsteps approaching towards the room and your eyes being greeted by the sight of Aemond Targaryen, standing in the doorway, giving you a small, tentative smile, holding something that looked like a dress in his hands. Blood filled with instant and overwhelming rage, you stared at him.

"I hunted down hare for our dinner," he informed you in a hesitant voice and you felt your anger rise tenfold.

"You abducted me," you spoke, seething. "Remove my restraints right this second."

Aemond's eye widened at the sheer venom laced in your voice but he made no move to untie you from the bed, where you lay, completely bare.

"Did you force yourself on me while I was unconscious?" you asked, voice rising with every word, fearing the worst. "Or do you plan on violating me while I am awake?"

The hurt that crossed the one-eyed Prince's face was priceless and he looked ashamed, like you had struck him.

"Is that how low you think of me?" he asked, taking a step towards you.

"Well, given that you are an adulterer, have attempted to slay your own kin and abducted me in the middle of the night, there is not much that I expect from you and your steadily deteriorating morality," you hissed.

He remained silent, shutting his eye for a moment, as if in contemplation, before walking over to the bed and calmly beginning to untie your restraints. "Consider this a gesture of my goodwill."

The moment he managed to release your left arm, your hand swung at him, landing a swift slap on his cheek.

"Fuck you and your goodwill!" you spat, watching his skin redden where you had struck him, your free hand quickly unfastening the bindings on your other hand and ankles as he stayed stunned by your blow. "You are just as rotten as your rapist brother."

At the mention of Aegon, Aemond's lips hardened into a thin line. "But that didn't stop you from kneeling before him to beg for clemency towards my children, did it?" came his swift retort.

"Why you-"

"You did it out of love for me, did you not?" Aemond asked, a smile slowly forming on his face.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, pushing past him as you stood up from the bed, trying to look for a way to escape, uncaring of the way he was looking at your bare skin. "Full of yourself, as ever, I see."

He made an attempt to reach out for your wrist but you pulled away from him. "Do not touch me, you vile creature. Your actions disgust me."

"My actions disgust you?" Aemond asked, now frankly amused by your words. "And what of the time you decided to write those letters to every House of the Seven Kingdoms?"

"It was the truth wasn't it?"

"Betraying your childhood friend in a manner so cruel and you think you are any better than me," he said, his tone taunting. "It isn't surprising that you've taken up with that bastard Strong."

It was upon hearing the mention of Jacaerys from Aemond's lips that made you laugh as you turned to look around for a door to escape.

"Jacaerys has more kindness in his little finger than you have in your entire being, Aemond Targaryen. And don't forget that you've fathered bastards with your sweetling sister Helaena-"

"ENOUGH!"

The sudden rise in the exiled Prince's voice made you flinch, for never in your entire life had you heard him speak to you in such a way.

You stared at him with astonishment, understanding how rare it was for Aemond to lose his composure so openly. For as long as you had known him, he had kept his feelings repressed, never once letting his anger show.

It made you realise the depth of the wound you had inflicted upon him. It shouldn't have made you care, but somewhere, deep down, you did.

"I've hurt you, haven't I?" you asked.

He remained silent for a while, seemingly ashamed of his outburst before responding.

"Yes-"

"Good," you interrupted him, sneering. "That was precisely my intention."

He sighed, long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat down on the bed, leaving you to roam around the room restlessly.

"Where have you brought me?" you asked, trying to look out the window, only to be greeted by the complete darkness of the night.

When your question remained without any response, you turned to him. "Did you abduct me to take me back to King's Landing as your hostage? Hoping that your brother will grant you a pardon? Thinking that you will be reinstalled as Prince?"

Upon hearing your barrage of accusations, Aemond looked positively horrified. "I would never trade you in for securing my position. Aegon was always looking for a reason to be rid of me and you presented it to him on a silver platter."

You crossed your arms across your chest indignantly. "The day you climbed into bed with your brother's wife, you sealed your own fate. Don't blame me for your follies."

"For how long does this have to go on?" Aemond asked after a prolonged silence. "For how long will you keep trying to hurt me for hurting you in our childhood?"

Hearing the agony in his voice, you kept quiet, the burning anger in your heart against the one eyed Prince somewhat extinguishing. He did look genuinely pained.

"I left you for Helaena and to claim Vhagar, that was my mistake, I confess it. And I am sorry for letting you go," he said. "But for how long are you going to keep trying to exact revenge for what I did? When does it end?"

"It ended for me when I sent the last of those letters," you admitted, turning to stare into the flames burning in the fireplace, wishing so desperately for your own dragon to be here. "Helaena was merely an acquaintance to me and I only asked for Aegon's mercy because your children with her are innocent. I feel nothing for you, Aemond."

"Is that true?" he asked, and you could hear him approach you with quiet footsteps. "You feel nothing for me in your heart?"

You swallowed thickly. "Nothing," you affirmed, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

"Liar."

The word came soft as a breath against your ear and you almost jumped, his proximity startling you. Turning away from him, you made to walk away only to have his arm wrap tightly around your waist. Holding you flush against him.

"Aemond-"

"Look at me," he said, his other hand removing the patch that covered his lost eye.

Resolutely, you kept your gaze fixed on the fireplace.

Until his hand gently yet firmly grasped your jaw, turning your face to meet his eye. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

You remained silent, waiting. Hoping that he would not be able to hear the thundering of your heartbeat.

"Do you truly feel nothing for me?"

"I've moved forward with Jacaerys," you responded. "He loves me, respects me and makes me happy. He's kind and he cares for me."

A small smile tugged at Aemond's lips. "That was not my question, ñuha dōna rūklon."

Ñuha dōna rūklon.

My sweet flower.

His name for you, the one he had given you during one of your High Valyrian lessons in your childhood.

"No…" you shook your head, tears pooling in your eyes at the sudden remembrance of the name, upon hearing it in his voice after so many years, bringing with it a storm of memories you had chosen to forget. Of all your happy times with the boy who had grown to become a stranger. "No."

"I know when you lie to me, dōna rūklon," he said. "I learned to read you before any written word."

"No!" you cried out, roughly pushing away from him to sit down on the bed once more, your eyes blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling. "You cannot just call me by that name and expect everything to repair itself! You cannot manipulate me to do your bidding! Your sweet words will not have me falling into your arms."

"I expect no such thing from you, dōna rūklon," he said, watching as you hastily threw on the cotton dress he had brought in with him upon entering the room. "I only wish to hear you speak the truth."

You ignored him, swiping angrily at your eyes, loathing yourself for showing your vulnerability before him.

"Very well," he said, sitting down on the floor at the foot of the bed. "I shall lead by example, then," he said, taking your hands in his.

You were struck, seeing Aemond Targaryen on his knees before you, his expression one of true remorse.

"I wronged you," he began. "I was so consumed by my want for power that I completely disregarded your feelings for me while you were the only one who was a source of support and strength in my life during the time I was bullied. You deserved to be treated so much better, I see that now. You endured years of the pain I had left behind in your heart, only to have it further worsened when you came to know of my children with Helaena," he said, sounding genuine and sincere. "I wish I could take away your pain just as swiftly as you heal others with your touch."

You closed your eyes at the mention of Helaena and the children, as if trying to shield yourself from experiencing the pain all over again.

"I should have loved you and protected you just as fiercely as you had done for me and I failed you. It was my duty to scour the Seven Kingdoms in search of you when you went missing and I failed you. It should have been me to bring you back home to King's Landing," he said, giving your hands a gentle squeeze, before pressing his forehead to your knees, his head bowed. "I am so sorry, ñuha dōna rūklon."

"Do you honestly believe that a few sentences will make me forgive you for what you did?" you asked, feeling the intense anger that rose in you easing its hold on you, dissolving a little.

"It was my mistake that started all this. We both ended up hurting each other, but I was the one who, in the arrogance of my youth, ended up hurting the person who meant the most to me," he said, his voice slightly muffled by his lips brushing against the fabric on your knees. "I am aware that I am undeserving of your forgiveness, but I am not above begging for it. So here I am, on my knees, ñuha dōna rūklon, pleading for an armistice, if not your grace and your mercy. Please. "

You remained silent for a few moments, letting his apology wash over you, feeling the crushing weight that always wore down your heart lessen ever so slightly. It was then, that you took a deep breath and spoke carefully.

"King's Landing was never my home. I had a family there, but my real home was with you, Aemond Targaryen," you said, running your thumbs across the veins on the backs of his hand. "I had imagined a future with you all those years ago."

Aemond stayed right where he was, on his knees, his head bowed in your lap, the silvery strands of his hair looking golden in the firelight as they splayed all over your knees. He inhaled sharply upon hearing your words.

"You trusted me with a secret I should have held on to and I chose to betray you. I acted in full awareness of the consequences of my actions and ended up separating you from your children… and Helaena. I thought I would feel better after hurting you and taking what you loved most away from you. But I only felt regret and guilt for the children afterwards."

The cotton of your dress that covered your knee felt wet against your skin and it was then that you realised that Aemond Targaryen was crying.

"My actions cut you just as deeply as the time your eye was taken from you and I am sorry for the pain I caused you."

"I deserved it," he sniffled. "It was only a fraction of the torment you went through. Becoming involved with Helaena was an enormous mistake."

"I wish I could have mustered the courage to tell you of my feelings sooner instead of being a meek child. Our lives would have perhaps been drastically different," you said, sighing in contemplation of what could have been, a faraway look in your eyes. "But here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed, lifting his head to look up at you, the tear tracks on his right cheek a confirmation of his tears. "I know you will never betray Rhaenyra and her family."

"I remain loyal to her and her cause. And you will remain forever loyal to your mother, the only one who stood by your side when you had lost your eye," you said, wiping away at his tears. "I'm tired of hurting you and letting you hurt me. It is exhausting, Aemond."

"Then stay with me," he said, leaning into your touch. "We could leave all of this behind and head to the Free Cities to start a life of our own. Start to heal everything that went wrong between us."

A rueful smile found its way to your lips. "I wish I could. But I refuse to become your second choice. Your compromise with life after losing Helaena and your children. I must return to Jacaerys, for I cannot forsake him, just as you need to find your own way."

Aemond's expression mirrored your own, hurt shimmering in his eye as he understood what you were trying to say.

"I know that. You've always been your own woman, dōna rūklon. And for that I am proud of you," he said. "Do you know that it was my sister who led you to me?"

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"She saw it in her dreams, I think, where you were and it was one of the last words she spoke to me… before I was exiled," he finished with a sigh. "Perhaps it was for this, so that I could finally apologize to you."

"I'm sorry," you said, aimlessly tracing along the scars on his eye.

"I'm sorry too, for everything," he said, placing his head back in your lap, reminding you of all the times he had done the same in your childhood.

"You know," you mused. "To have this conversation with me, you did not need to abduct me."

Hearing this, Aemond grinned. "That is true. I have always been exceededingly dramatic and impulsive. Claiming Vhagar on the night of Lady Laena's funeral and then taunting her daughters, chasing Lucerys into a storm, almost killing him if you hadn't managed to distract my out of control dragon."

You poked at his head playfully, as if to reprimand him for his foolishness.

"But Jacaerys, you love him, do you not?" he asked earnestly.

"I… I think I do."

"Well, he is a lucky lad, my nephew," he said. "I'm glad you've found your happiness."

You smiled at Aemond, while your mind screamed at him:

My happiness had been with you!

Seemingly unaware of your remaining internal conflict, Aemond rose to his feet, offering you a hand.

"Come, have supper with me, if it is for the last time."

You felt nausea churning in your stomach at the thought of eating, a sudden exhaustion weighing down your form.

"Are you alright?" Aemond asked before taking on a jesting tone. "I swear the hare is not laced with sleeping draught."

"I'm fine, just not feeling hungry," you smiled reassuringly, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. "I think I will rest for a while."

"As you wish, ñuha dōna rūklon. I shall keep you company," Aemond said, sitting down in an armchair beside the bed. "And tomorrow, as soon as the sun rises, I shall escort you back to Winterfell, to honour our truce."

"Truce?" you asked, confused.

"To abduct you, only to spring an apology after years of pain and expecting your clemency return in a moment is rather unfair of me, don't you think?" he asked. "But I will be eternally grateful if we are, going forward, able to be civil with each other. A truce of sorts, if you will."

"I agree," you acquiesced. "I suppose a truce is the best I can give you at the moment."

"Thank you. Truly."

You nodded, seeing how relieved and grateful the one-eyed Prince looked.

"But before I let you fall asleep, please tell me this: if it weren't for my illicit relationship with Helaena and the existence of my children, would you have chosen me?" he asked, curiosity and expectation dancing on his features.

"I chose you all those years ago, didn't I?" you responded after a beat of silence, surprised by the spasm of pain that twisted his face.

"I absolutely and completely fucked it up, didn't I?" he asked.

"We both did."

The both of you sat in a silence reminiscent of the quiet moments of solitude you had shared under the weirwood tree in your childhood, reading your books.

"What are you going to do now?" you eventually enquired.

"Since I have lost you, I have nowhere else to go," he said, running a weary hand over his face. "I cannot return to King's Landing either. Perhaps I will travel to the Free Cities and become a sellsword."

Hearing this, you found a smile tugging at your lips. "With your silver hair and sapphire eye, people will recognise you anywhere, Prince Aemond. You may be exiled, but your title and infamous looks still remain."

"I know," he sighed. "I've messed that up as well. I truly don't know what the Gods have planned for me."

"Whatever their plan is, I will pray to them to grant you what you desire," you said, lying back down on the bed and letting your fatigue drag your mind into darkness before long.

Aemond sat quietly, his eye never leaving your face as he wondered if you truly knew what he so desperately desired…

Author's note: We're nowhere close to the end! Were just getting started 😉

Part 10

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #hotd #house of the dragon #angst #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x helaena #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen x helaena targaryen #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #jacaerys velaryon x you #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys x you

[kallie-den]

Voice of the Goddess

The annoyingly pious, prudish party cleric suddenly changes her tune after a dark artifact connects her to a dark goddess with mind-warping powers and a very, very different set of values

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“That was one hell of a battle,” Ghelda the barbarian said, stretching out like a big cat across the floor of her tent. “Those cultists put up a better fight than I’d expected. All that dark magic bullshit. At first, I figured they were too obsessed with sex to know which end of a weapon to use.” She flashed a wicked grin. “Here to tend to my wounds, Zareen?”

“Is that what you want?” Zareen the rogue purred. Lying next to the barbarian, she was tracing the lines of Ghelda’s abs with her fingertips. Ghelda was the size of a mountain, and every bit as rugged. “Bandages? Ointments? Do you need to tell me where it hurts?”

Ghelda let out a gut laugh that made the whole tent shake. “Oh, I can think of something that needs tending alright. Maybe you can suck the poison out.”

“Maybe I can.” Zareen winked suggestively at her. “The only question is: are you just going to lie here while I do? Or are you gonna put those big, strong muscles of yours to good use?”

“What did you have in mind?” Ghelda propped herself up before wrapping her hands around Zareen’s slender hips and pulling the rogue into her lap. “Upside down, like before? Or something more exotic?”

“Well, I swiped this pleasure scroll from the cultists,” Zareen replied, squealing playfully as Ghelda slapped her ass. “And the positions are quite something. It’s some real dark magic.”

“Yeah?” Ghelda’s deep voice was thick with lust. She reached down and started unfastening her loincloth. “Then how about we-“

“Creatum aqua!”

Ghelda and Zareen had no time at all to react before the entire tent was drenched in a torrent of ice-cold water that appeared from thin air above them. The tent immediately collapsed from the weight of the deluge, and it took much kicking, scrambling, and swearing before the pair of adventurers finally extracted themselves and clambered to their feet, both of them soaked to the bone.

“What the fuck, Lialeth?” Ghelda raged, scowling at the person standing before them. “Do you truly not have anything better to use your magic on?”

Somehow, even though she was dry and unharmed, Lialeth, the party’s cleric, managed to scowl back twice as hard and look twice as displeased. She folded her arms. “In fact, I do not. What better use could there be than ensuring the hero’s party doesn’t lapse into sin and depravity?”

Ghelda bristled like an angry tiger, and Zareen rolled her eyes. “We’re having this conversation again?” the rogue drawled. “Surely your annoying little goddess has greater things to worry about. Frankly, she must be furious with you for wasting so much of her precious time.”

Lialeth prided herself on being immaculately composed. From head to toe, she was every inch the perfect priestess. She dressed modestly in spotless, white robes, and adorned herself with nothing except for a sacred symbol, a prayer book, and a few other holy relics. She even kept her neatly braided hair hidden beneath a black veil. She looked like she belonged in a cloister, not on a battlefield. But through countless battles and hardships, her face always remained pressed into an expression of serene composure and pious determination.

When she heard Zareen refer to her ‘annoying little goddess’, however, she turned as red as a tomato with barely-restrained fury.

“Blasphemy!” she cried. “The Goddess of Light deserves the utmost respect! Violent malefactors like you are unworthy to even speak of her! I have tried so very patiently to correct your behavior and explain to you both exactly how much she disapproves of all your misdeeds - but you do nothing but laugh at her teachings! How many times do I have to say it? Fornication outside of marriage is a terrible sin!”

Ghelda just snorted. “If the gods didn’t want me to sleep around, they wouldn’t have blessed me with this.”

She reached down to her groin and made an obscene gesture that had Lialeth turning an even deeper shade of red.

“How dare you!” the cleric spluttered. She knew very well what Ghelda was hiding underneath that loincloth. The barbarian boasted about it often enough. “Honestly! It’s a testament to her infinite kindness and patience that she still wishes me to travel with you. Or a test of my own piety, perhaps. Certainly, the likes of you don’t deserve to receive her blessings - or mine.”

“Aren’t you tired of this little spiel?” Zareen sighed. “We’ve heard it a hundred times, Lialeth. It seems like you prefer the sound of your own voice to that of your goddess. What makes you so sure you know what she wants, anyway? Aren’t you priestesses supposed to be humble?”

“I’m a cleric!” Lialeth shrieked. “I can hear her voice! The Goddess of Light speaks through me! And I promise that I will make you listen, sooner or later!”

“W-what’s going on? Why is everyone y-yelling?”

Another party member was approaching from the far side of the camp. She spoke in a timid, uneven voice punctuated by laughs and irregular, high-pitched tics, and wore a florid black dress so large she was practically drowning in it. Her hair was an unkempt mane of deep purple, and she was clutching a sinister-looking grimoire that drew a fresh scowl of displeasure from Lialeth.

It was Hecatz the warlock.

“Hecatz,” Zareen exclaimed theatrically. “Welcome to the sermon! Lialeth was just telling us all about fornication.”

Hecatz let out a low, filthy giggle. Zareen didn’t have much in common with the shy, nerdy, bookworm warlock, but a shared antipathy towards Lialeth was easy to bond over.

“T-this again?” Hecatz muttered in a nasal voice. “Boring.”

“The devil-worshiper, defending sin? I’m not surprised!” Lialeth rounded on the warlock. She disdained Hecatz’s magic as ‘dark arts’, and made no secret about it. Plus, Hecatz was also no stranger to sharing Ghelda’s bed. “I won’t pretend there’s any saving you."

“You know, you could always join us,” Zareen purred. She lifted a hand to her lips and split her fingers in a V, and started extending her tongue between them. “Maybe we can be the ones to teach you a thing or two. Maybe you’d enjoy it. You must be harboring a few naughty little fantasies, underneath all that repression and haughtiness. A good fuck might be exactly what you need to finally get that stick out of your ass.”

“How dare you!” Lialeth screeched again. She drew herself up as tall as she could. “I take it back. All of you are beyond saving. The best you can do is bow down to the goddess and beg mercy for your-“

“Lialeth!” came a loud, firm voice. “That’s enough.”

All four of the other party members turned to see the final member of their company - Mireille, their leader - striding towards them. Finally, Lialeth’s expression started to soften.

Mireille was a hero, and she looked like it. Clad in shining armor, her handsome looks and long, blonde hair shone like the sun. She was a beacon of virtue, and even Lialeth couldn’t find fault with her. If not for Mireille, the party would have long since collapsed into infighting and acrimony. As prophesied, it was Mireille who had bound them together and who led them across the land, fighting evil wherever it could be found. She walked with destiny at her side, and everyone who met her knew it.

The only thing Lialeth didn’t like about her was how tolerant she was of people’s flaws.

"Mireille!” Lialeth protested. “They were-“

“I know,” Mireille interrupted. Her voice was gentle, but she sounded weary - from the battle, Lialeth assumed. “But it’s been a long day. We all need to blow off steam. Surely you can forgive them that.”

“Well, of course,” Lialeth acknowledged. “But that’s why this is so important! We should be blowing off steam together. I can lead us in a circle of prayer and ritual purification! That’s what the goddess demands. Especially after that vile orgy we just witnessed! If they’d only try it…”

“Lialeth,” Mireille said, pointedly ignoring the way Ghelda and Hecatz were snickering at the mention of ‘blowing off steam together’. “The goddess only wishes the willingly faithful to partake in her rites. Isn’t that so?”

“That’s true…” Lialeth conceded. Suddenly, she felt herself on the back foot. “But they should-“

“They have made their feelings clear,” Mireille explained kindly. “Everyone has their own way to relax and recuperate. Some are simply a little… rowdier than others. I’m sure you can find it in your heart to overlook that. Nobody’s perfect. Not even me.”

She smiled, and Lialeth knew there was no going against Mireille. Not when she smiled like that.

“But…” the cleric protested weakly. “The goddess demands…”

“I’ll pray with you,” Mireille offered. “Just as soon as I’ve finished patching up my gear. We can conduct all the proper rites together. I always find peace in them.”

She did - although Lialeth also knew she enjoyed drinking with Ghelda, exploring with Zareen, and discussing books with Hecatz. That was Mireille all over. She was everyone’s hero.

“Very well,” Lialeth said stiffly. “There’s a spring in the woods, a short way north. I’ll wait there. At least there I’ll have some quiet.”

She turned her back, ready to make off in a huff, but Mireille stopped her.

“Wait,” the hero added. “I found something, at the cultist’s camp. An artifact. I was hoping you could take a look at it? Purify it, perhaps.”

It was an olive branch, Lialeth could tell that much. A way to help Lialeth preserve some dignity. Mireille wanted Lialeth to know she appreciated what the cleric would do. She appreciated the sentiment, even if it did little to soothe the humiliation of having Ghelda, Zareen and Hecatz all laughing at her behind her back.

“Very well,” Lialeth replied. “I shall see what I can do.”

She took the pouch Mireille offered to her, and stormed off into the woods.

“Why don’t they understand?” Lialeth muttered mutinously under her breath as she trudged through the forest. “I am the voice of a goddess. A goddess! She speaks through me. Why don’t they listen? Are they so thick-headed, they think they’re above the gods?”

She was sulking. She knew it was beneath her, but she didn’t care. Lialeth was at her wits’ end. What was she supposed to do?

Growing up amongst the faithful, Lialeth’s role in life had always been perfectly clear: limitless devotion to the goddess. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d learned to follow and accept every last tenet of her goddess’s worship. Whatever was written in scripture, that was her motto. Whatever the priestesses told her, that was her mantra. It was simple.

But not optional. If you followed everything, without question, you were good. Blessed. Chosen. If you wavered, you were bad. Spurned. Damned. Stained. What was so hard about that?

When Lialeth had heard the voice of the Goddess of Light speaking directly to her, it had been the happiest moment of her life. It meant she was a cleric, elevated above the flock, marked out for a special purpose. It had been the ultimate validation of her scrupulous obedience and piety. Her goddess’s voice surpassed everything else in importance. It was her guiding star. And when the goddess had told her that she was to seek out the hero, Mireille, and join her on her quest, she had accepted with joy in her heart.

But when she’d met the hero’s other companions, it had all gone wrong.

Surely Lialeth had been sent to try and save them from their own sins. To try and educate them, to make them holy and pure - just like her. But Ghelda, Zareen and Hecatz acted like her teachings and her righteous indignation were nothing more than prudish nagging and self-important bluster.

It was so confusing. The cleric didn’t know how to make them understand. She wasn’t just guessing. She was a cleric. She was chosen. She could literally hear the Goddess of Light speaking to her and telling her what to do!

Not now, of course. Not when she was off sulking in the woods. The goddess only deigned to speak to her at moments of great importance, in battles or at the crossroads of fateful choices. It was only proper. But Lialeth could have used a little guidance, at a time like this.

As Lialeth arrived at the spring, she decided to put those thoughts out of her mind. Mireille would come, they’d pray together, and Lialeth would feel better - at least for the moment. Until then, rather than stew in her frustration, it would be wiser to do something that made her feel useful.

With that in mind, Lialeth perched on a rock overlooking the spring and opened the pouch Mireille had given her. Inside was a large, dark orb that was made of something like glass - obsidian, perhaps - with a faint, shrouded, purple light emanating from its heart. As Lialeth held it aloft in one hand, she frowned. She’d never seen anything quite like this.

But it was powerful. She could tell that much.

The artifact radiated magical power. No, not just magical power. Divine power. For a cleric like Lialeth, there was no mistaking it. She couldn’t even begin to guess at the artifact’s function, but she was mindful of the fact that it belonged to evil cultists. The shadowy cult the party was currently rooting out was truly vile. Lialeth had never before encountered a gang of such depraved perverts. There was no chance that anything they treasured was harmless.

Briefly, Lialeth considered that the wisest course of action might have been to seal the artifact until she could take it back to her convent for proper study. Except… Mireille had suggested she purify it. Lialeth couldn’t go back empty-handed. She didn’t want Mireille to be disappointed in her, and she certainly didn't want the others to laugh at her failure.

So, uttering a quiet blessing, Lialeth closed her eyes and allowed the breath of the Goddess of Light to enter her. That breath fanned the spark of the divine within her into a flame, and Lialeth was able to take that flame’s warmth and light into the palm of her hand and use it to reach into the strange orb, illuminating its depths and probing for the secrets sealed within.

Too late, she sensed the presence within the orb reaching back.

Suddenly, the divine power Lialeth could sense emanating from the artifact increased a hundredfold, and behind it, she could now discern a distinct intent. A being, uncoiling like a serpent and stretching out toward her.

Lialeth tried to pull back. But it was too late; whatever was within the orb was awake, and already had its hooks in her. It just kept extending and unfolding, its darkness drowning out the light the cleric had called upon. Lialeth was struck with the distinct, uncomfortable sense that she was being seen by something. It was terrifying. It was like staring into a baleful sun.

She knew what this artifact was now: a prison. And Lialeth, in her carelessness, had opened it. But a prison for what? She’d never sensed anything even close to as powerful as this. Only the Goddess of Light herself came close. Why did this entity feel so uncannily similar? Its power was like a dark mirror of the goddess’s.

Was this… the prison of a god? That seemed absurd. Lialeth had never heard of such a thing. And yet…

Crack!

Without warning, the orb’s surface shattered. Out of a hundred tiny cracks, there emerged a vast, dark cloud, blacker than the blackest night yet illuminated by that same strange, purple glow as the orb. It just kept growing and growing, somehow ignoring the wind, until it completely surrounded Lialeth.

“Light preserve me!” Lialeth breathed.

As soon as the words left her lips, the dark cloud surged towards her. There was no time to react. In an instant, it was all over her - and in another it was inside her, pouring into her eyes, her mouth, her nose, even her eyes. Lialeth felt like she was drowning. Every muscle in her body went stiff in protest against the vile intrusion.

Lialeth, my child! Hurry, you must-

It was the voice of the Goddess of Light! Lialeth rejoiced - but then, when the voice cut off, she immediately panicked. She had never felt such an awful sense of severance from the divine light. Nobody could interrupt the Goddess of Light. That was impossible… wasn’t it? Suddenly, Lialeth wasn’t so sure. And worse, she could still feel something powerful and evil and alien making its home inside her.

Oh? What have we here?

It was… the Goddess of Light? The voice was speaking directly into Lialeth’s soul in just the same way, but there was something different about it. The voice, though still feminine sounded deeper, more sensual, dripping with a kind of gleeful promise that made all of Lialeth’s hairs stand on end.

A follower of light? Such fortune! ‘Twas your kind that imprisoned me. And only your magic could set me free.

It had to be the Goddess of Light, didn’t it? The alternative was simply unthinkable. It frightened Lialeth on a level she simply couldn’t bring herself to contemplate. Yes. Yes, this was simply the Goddess of Light. What did it matter that her voice sounded a little different, and if her words were confusing? It wasn’t Lialeth’s place to question.

And such capacity for faith! How amusing. You shall make for a fitting vessel, child. Through you, I will sow corruption across the land.

Corruption? That didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound like the goddess Lialeth knew and loved. But… it had to be, didn’t it? Her connection to the Goddess of Light was inviolate. Lialeth was sacred. Chosen. She always had been. Doubt didn’t come naturally to her. Heeding the voice of the goddess in her soul came as naturally to Lialeth as breathing.

But… the orb. The dark cloud. What if…

You’re troubled, child. Let me free you from doubt and worry.

Lialeth felt something moving inside her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a cloud anymore. It was a liquid, an ooze, black as pitch, but animated by its own will. Somehow, she could feel it clawing its way up her spine, staining everything it touched, and then forcing its way inside her skull.

The cleric twitched violently for a moment as the invading presence explored the intricate pathways of her mind. Soon, it found what it was looking for: her doubt. Her judgment. Her sense of her own values, cultivated over many long years of study and piety.

It snuffed them out as easily as Lialeth might have quenched a match.

Lialeth slumped and relaxed. Yes. This was the voice of the goddess. Of her goddess.

All was right in the world.

That’s better. Now, we must deal with your companions. You’ve always wanted to teach them a lesson, haven’t you? I can make them heed your lessons. I could do it in any number of ways, in fact… but you really are such an insufferable little tool of that miserable goddess. And it’s been far, far too long since I’ve had some real fun. Some true debauchery. Yes, I know what to do with you.

Lialeth just went on smiling. It didn’t matter to her that the voice in her soul was insulting her and her long-treasured faith. This was her goddess. All Lialeth needed to do was listen and obey.

Yes, Lialeth. Listen and obey. For I have new commandments to give you…

Zareen awoke to the sensation of a hand on her ass. That, in itself, wasn’t unusual. After Lialeth had stormed off, Zareen and Ghelda had painstakingly dried and re-pitched their tent, fucked and then laid down to sleep. The rogue slept on her front, and it wasn’t unusual for Ghelda to get a little touchy-feely, even when she was unconscious. The barbarian had fierce appetites.

Zareen didn’t mind one bit.

Another hand. Maybe Ghelda wasn’t asleep after all. Zareen could have sworn she could still hear the barbarian’s breathing from next to her. Maybe that was something else. Her head was fogged from exhaustion, and her body was sore from the day’s trials.

“Another round, stud?” Zareen murmured. “Maybe… in a bit…”

In response, the pair of hands started forcefully spreading her ass cheeks apart.

Zareen started to stir. This had to be Ghelda. She could certainly be firm, once she set her mind to something. That was fun, in a way. And they were no strangers to this kind of sex. Zareen really was too tired for it, though. Ghelda’s size wasn’t to be taken lightly.

“Hey,” Zareen drawled sleepily. “Maybe for now you could just-“

A tongue.

Zareen gasped and collapsed back into her pillow as she felt a tongue pressing into her tight, sensitive hole. Before she could catch her breath, the tongue started moving, and Zareen was having her ass eaten out with a level of devotion and fanaticism she’d never experienced before. Each time the tongue pushed deeper into her body, it made Zareen twitch and moan as thundershocks of pleasure raced up her spine.

“F-fuck!” she gasped breathlessly. “W-where did you learn to do this?”

It was surprising, for Ghelda. The barbarian usually had a single-minded focus on herself and her own pleasure, and on all the ways she could bury her spear in Zareen’s body. Zareen didn’t mind that either. She could - and did - appreciate many, many different flavors of lover.

But if this was a new trick Ghelda was picking up, Zareen certainly wasn’t going to complain. The way her ass was being rimmed felt utterly divine. Each lap of that eager tongue made the rogue’s body go weak with pleasure. As her moans built, she managed to raise herself up on her knees, all the better to start rolling her hips and pressing her ass back against the mouth that was so eager to explore it.

“Yeah,” Zareen purred. “That’s it, stud. R-right there. Fuck! I could get used to this.”

She really could. Having her ass eaten this way was driving her wild. It was a new, exciting form of pleasure she’d never felt before. Eager to bathe in the hedonism of the experience, Zareen twisted her body so that she could reach back and start idly playing with her cunt. But as she did, she caught sight of the person kneeling behind her, face buried in her rear.

It was Lialeth. Not Ghelda. Lialeth.

“What the fuck?” Zareen hissed, although her voice was still stained through with pleasure. “What the hell are you doing?”

She crawled forward. Once she saw her face, there was no doubt about it. This was Lialeth. The cleric’s face was stained with saliva and with the holy oils she’d apparently been using to lube up Zareen’s ass, and when she saw that Zareen was trying to pull away from her, she made an irritated, high-handed tutting noise.

“Typical,” Lialeth complained. “Just typical!”

Zareen was utterly flabbergasted. She had a hundred questions. Why was Lialeth in her tent? Why was this snippy little cleric eating her ass? Why was she so damn good at it? And why was she talking like all this was completely normal?

Was Lialeth drunk? Had she taken something? Zareen peered at her as closely as she could, but in the dim tent, it was too dark to see her eyes.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” Zareen demanded again, in a hushed voice.

Unbelievably, Lialeth just rolled her eyes at her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Lialeth sneered. “As usual, I’m simply trying to conduct the rites of the goddess. And as usual, you are making it very difficult!”

“Wha…” Zareen just blinked. Was this some kind of joke? “The… rites of the goddess?”

“Yes!” Lialeth nodded impatiently. "It’s my responsibility as a cleric to keep you cleansed and pure!”

“With… with your tongue?” Zareen was incredulous.

“You dare question the goddess’s teachings?” Lialeth hissed imperiously. “I am the chosen vessel of her divinity! I am the voice of the goddess! What better instrument to anoint you with her blessings?”

Zareen could do nothing but laugh. She was giving up on understanding this. Probably, it was a dream. But if not, and if Lialeth had finally cracked, Zareen figured the experience might teach her some much-needed humility. If the cleric really wanted to eat her ass that badly, why not let her?

“You know what? Go ahead,” Zareen murmured, slumping back into her pillow with a sleepy, pleasure-drunk smile on her face. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thank you!” Lialeth exclaimed indignantly. A mere moment later, her face was firmly nested back in Zareen’s ass. Her voice became decidedly muffled. “Maybe there’s… hope for you… after all.”

Each word was punctuated with the wet, lewd sound of her tongue pressing in and out of Zareen’s hole. The rogue simply let out an agreeable moan as fresh waves of pleasure started rolling over her. Admittedly, Lialeth’s technique wasn’t particularly precise or refined, but her sheer enthusiasm more than made up for it. She was truly eating ass like it was her religion, and the sounds her worship made were only growing louder and more obscene by the moment.

“Huh?” came a deep, weary voice from the other side of the tent. “What’s all the… Zar, that you?”

It was Ghelda. The barbarian was waking up. Zareen giggled as she saw the small mountain of blankets and furs beside her starting to shift. What would Ghelda make of this, she wondered?

Once Ghelda had propped herself up on one elbow and rubbed the sleep from her eyes she was greeted by the sight of Lialeth, the annoyingly pious, prudish and judgmental cleric, with her face buried as deep as it could go in another woman’s ass, lapping and kissing like her life depended on it. Her jaw dropped.

“Seven fucking hells,” Ghelda groaned. “What did I drink?”

Her words alerted Lialeth to the barbarian’s presence. She extracted herself from Zareen’s ass - prompting a slight, petulant whine from the rogue - and turned to Ghelda, drawing herself up proudly.

“Ghelda!” Lialeth exclaimed. “Thank goodness! You’re here too. Perfect.”

Without any more warning than that, she pounced on the barbarian with such eagerness that even the huge mountain of a woman was knocked unsteady. Taking advantage, Lialeth wrapped her hands around Ghelda’s hips and, with a firm grip on the barbarian, pressed her face straight between her thighs.

Ghelda, still in shock from what was happening, let out a faint moan. It was obvious that, despite her surprise, her body was responding to Lialeth’s eager attention. Zareen could see her loincloth beginning to lift as something thick and hard formed a very, very noticeable bulge underneath it.

“Get this… out of… the way!” Lialeth commanded, trying frantically to pull the loincloth to one side. In her eagerness, she was already spilling drool all over both Ghelda and herself. Once she had successfully dislodged the garment, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and buried Ghelda’s massive cock in her throat.

Ghelda immediately let out a full-throated growl of astonished pleasure. Lialeth was sucking her cock with just the same level of fanatical eagerness she’d exhibited when eating Zareen’s ass, but this was proving a far harder task. Ghelda was huge. The barbarian’s throbbing cock was a foot long and girthy to match, and Lialeth was trying to take every last inch. The result was a succession of sounds so lewd they would have made a whore blush.

The slap of flesh on flesh as Lialeth forced her lips all the way down to the base of Ghelda’s cock. The violent choking and gagging as she desperately pushed past her own gag reflex. And then the loud, wet smack of her lips as she pulled back and extracted the barbarian’s huge shaft from her throat and lavished its tip with hungry kisses, only to deep throat it again after barely pausing to breathe.

“Holy… fuck!” Ghelda grunted. She was stunned. She’d had her cock sucked often, but never quite like this. And certainly never by a cleric. She glanced at Zareen. “Is she…”

Zareen just shrugged. The rogue was lost for words. She was completely entranced by the spectacle of Lialeth’s blowjob.

Lialeth’s veil had slipped from her head, and her face was drenched in drool and precum. Normally that would have scandalized her, but now she seemed completely oblivious. She looked nothing like a holy woman of any kind. Zareen’s image of the prim, proper cleric was being shattered beyond repair.

“You’re so… so big!” Lialeth exclaimed, pulling for long enough for just one deep breath. She sounded faintly annoyed, like it was rude of Ghelda to present her with such a large workload. “How… how vulgar.”

Zareen raised an eyebrow.

Clearly, Lialeth wasn’t to be deterred by the task at hand. As soon as she’d caught her breath, she returned to noisily and eagerly deep-throating Ghelda. She wrapped both of her hands around the barbarian’s thick shaft, jerking her off as she sucked and licked, seemingly caught up in the intricacies of some unfathomable ritual.

“Uuurr… mmusk,” Lialeth managed to choke out, with her mouth full of cock. “Sssooo… stron… nneed to… clleeasee you.”

Noticing the thick, musky, sweaty scent that clung to Ghelda only seemed to make Lialeth even more frenzied. One of her hands lightly grazed Ghelda’s full, heavy balls, and it was like a light had been switched on in her head. With a loud slurping sound, the cleric extracted Ghelda’s cock from her throat and lifted it up so that she could lean forwards and bury her face in the barbarian’s balls.

“Fuckkkkk!” Ghelda moaned, as Lialeth started tonguing her. “Didn’t know you were such a freak, Lialeth!”

“A… hrrrng… freak?” Lialeth could barely make room to speak between strokes of her tongue as she drooled all over the hulking barbarian’s sack. “How… nngg… dare you! I’m just… ockkk… a devoted… priestess!”

Ghelda let out a wild laugh, thick with pleasure. Lialeth’s hands were still working her cock, stroking up and down furiously as the cleric utterly smothered herself with Ghelda’s balls. From the way Ghelda’s shaft was starting to throb and twitch, it was obvious she was getting close.

“Whatever you say!” Ghelda grunted. “Here it comes, priestess!”

She came. A huge, thick stream of cum erupted from the tip of her cock in massive, rhythmic spurts, flying through the air in an arc to land directly onto Lialeth’s face. Lialeth took her mouth off of Ghelda’s body so that she could lift her face, basking in the shower of cum like it was manna from heaven. The look on her face was one of perfect, self-satisfied contentment. It was clear that in her mind, this was a job well done. This was the pinnacle of her devotion.

As usual, Ghelda’s orgasm stretched on for almost half a minute. All the while, her balls worked overtime to keep spewing forth load after load of cum. Zareen knew full well that Ghelda’s virility was the stuff of legends. Lialeth gratefully took every last load; some fell in her open mouth, which she swallowed happily, and the rest simply dripped down her face to stain her robes, leaving her holy attire hopelessly stained and soiled with Ghelda’s thick-smelling seed.

To Lialeth, this was nothing more or less than a blessed sacrament.

Then, she turned to Zareen.

“Oh,” Lialeth panted. Her whole body was heaving with each breath, and cum was oozing past her lips as she spoke. “You… I didn’t even… finish.”

She looked exhausted, but nonetheless started crawling back over to Zareen. The rogue was still completely stunned. She knew, on some level, that this was unnatural. It had to be. This wasn’t Lialeth. The cum-drenched woman heading towards her and licking her lips looked like something between a succubus and a back-alley whore. The cleric Zareen knew would never sink to this level. Not in a thousand years.

But somehow, the sight was so debauched, so utterly debased in its hedonism, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to refuse.

“Um, hey,” came a nasally, uneven voice from outside the tent. Hecatz. “You guys need to either keep it down or, uh, let me join in.”

Zareen and Ghelda exchanged faintly mortified looks, but Lialeth didn’t miss a single beat.

“Yes!” Lialeth called out eagerly. “Come in! Join us!”

“Um, was that…?”

Hecatz lifted the tent flap and peered inside, and almost jumped out of her skin at what she saw.

“Absolutely not,” the warlock breathed, shocked. She looked to Zareen and Ghelda for some kind of explanation.

“She’s…” Zareen began, before falling silent. What was she supposed to say? She’s come around? She’s gone crazy? Somehow, neither of those explanations would be sufficient.

“What are you doing?” Lialeth said sternly, ignoring the confusion of her party members. She rose to her feet, and seemed just as oblivious to the way Ghelda’s cum was dripping from her robe in streams. “Hurry up! We are partaking in the goddess’s sacred rites. Don’t you want me to make you pure, as I have Ghelda?”

Hecatz’s face cracked into an uneven smile as she glanced between Lialeth, drenched in cum, and Ghelda, her still-hard cock twitching between her legs.

“T-this is a joke, right?” Hecatz said nervously. “You’re just-“

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lialeth said primly. “I’m simply going to-“

She broke off abruptly. Lialeth tilted her head, and it was as if she was listening to some unheard voice. All of the party members knew that expression. Lialeth was hearing her goddess. They paused with bated breath to see what would happen next.

“Yes, my divine lady.” A serene smile washed over Lialeth’s face, and she stretched out a hand towards Hecatz. “Give me your grimoire.”

“My-“ Hecatz was immediately shaking her head. Her grimoire was, as ever, hanging from a loop on the belt around her dress. It was the font of her dark power, every bit as potent as a wizard’s staff. “No! No way! I mean you’re just going to destroy it, or purify it, or- hey!”

Impatiently, Lialeth reached out and snatched the heavy, leather-bound book away from the warlock. Before anyone could stop her, she opened it and held out a hand above its pages. Her hand started to glow, although the usual golden radiance of her divine magic was poisoned through by purple veins of corruption.

“There!” Lialeth announced after a moment. Keeping the grimoire open, she tossed it on the ground outside the tent. Zareen and Ghelda both sprang to their feet and ran out after it.

“What did you do?” Ghelda demanded.

It was Hecatz who answered. “She… oh, hells!” The warlock started sweating bullets. “S-she unsealed something!”

As the party watched, a glowing red glyph appeared in the air above the book. Then, something started coming through it as if it was parting a curtain, only there was nothing on the other side except for thin air.

It was a tentacle.

“Why worry?” Lialeth scoffed. She sounded just like her old self, when she was lecturing the other party members about their perceived shortcomings. “You often use this creature for your self-pleasure, Hecatz. The goddess has told me as much.”

The warlock turned bright red. “That’s n-n-not-“

“Rest assured,” Lialeth continued, with an air of supreme benevolence. “Even the most profane monstrosities can become instruments for the goddess’s great gift!”

Another tentacle emerged through the grimoire. Then another, then another. Soon, it became clear: this creature was nothing more than a seething, writhing mass of reaching tentacles. Each appendage was tipped with a distinctly suggestive tip, and each one dripped with slick, sticky, heady secretions.

“A-are you insane?” Hecatz asked. The tentacle beast was crawling towards where she and Lialeth were standing, getting closer inch by inch. “You’re… you’re not…”

“Trust me,” Lialeth told her. Her robes were ruined and she was still drenched with cum, but she managed to sound like a kindly priestess comforting a child. “Cleanse your soul. Accept my blessing.”

She reached out to Hecatz once more, and shoved her back towards the tentacle beast.

Hecatz tumbled back, hopelessly off-balance - but the creature that had been sealed within her grimoire surged forward to catch her. Within the blink of an eye, dozens of tentacles were wrapped around Hecatz’s body, lifting her into the air and binding her in place. She struggled, but it was for naught; the more she writhed and squirmed, the tighter the tentacles seemed to hold her.

“Lialeth!” Hecatz shrieked in protest. “What are you- ah!”

As the tentacles started to explore her body, Hecatz broke off into a moan - and then turned bright red with shame. Evidently, Lialeth had been correct. The tentacle beast seemed well used to feeling and groping Hecatz this way, and the warlock was clearly equally as attuned to its touch. She was trying to stifle them, but more and more moans were slipping past Hecatz’s lips, and the way her back arched when a tentacle snaked its way up her dress was anything but innocent.

“Do you see?” Lialeth said smugly. “It feels wonderful to allow the goddess to accept you into her bosom.”

The tentacle beast was beginning to undress Hecatz, ripping her black dress apart as its tentacles stretched and undulated across her body. Beneath her shapeless clothes, it turned out that Hecatz was hiding quite the body. She was certainly on the chubby side, and all of the weight and fat had gone to the perfect places: her thighs were thick, juicy pillars, her fat ass was jiggling and quivering alluringly as the tentacles squeezed it, and her belly was a delightful, soft pouch that just begged to be squeezed and massaged.

And the tentacles were eager to oblige.

Possessed of an unfathomable, alien curiosity, they explored all over Hecatz’s body without discernment, groping, squeezing, stroking, massaging, fucking. All over, she was dripping with the creature’s secretions, but that wasn’t all: her thighs were just as slick with her own wetness. Hecatz’s moans were coming long and loud now, but she was still resisting, tossing and turning in the tentacles’ embrace to try and keep it from entering her mouth or her cunt.

Lialeth pursed her lips and made a displeased ‘tch’.

“Why must you fight the goddess’s will?” she tutted. “Allow me to guide you by example.”

With those words, she stepped forward into the tentacle beast’s embrace. Dozens of the creature’s endless appendages raced towards her, but they seemed to sense the cleric’s submission. They didn’t bind her or lift her into the air. Instead, they caressed her like a lover, steadily wrapping themselves around her arms and lifting the hem of her dress.

As if in prayer, Lialeth fell to her knees. An expression of rapturous joy was etched onto her face.

Her robe didn’t last long. Already hopelessly soiled with Ghelda’s cum, it quickly fell to shreds when the tentacles started forcefully peeling it away from Lialeth’s body. Unlike Hecatz’s, her form was trim and slender, the product of discipline and privation. The tentacles didn’t seem to mind. Four of them wrapped around her thighs and another two around her tits, and then three entire tentacles plunged as deep as they could into Lialeth’s pussy.

The cleric let out a wordless cry of perfect bliss.

The tentacles immediately started pounding in and out of Lialeth with inhuman vigor. Anyone else would have been reduced to senseless twitching by their ravenous attention, but something spurred Lialeth on; kept her active and focused despite the pleasure. With each hand, she reached for a tentacle and guided them gently towards her mouth. The tentacles responded eagerly, and immediately pushed past her parted lips so they could start fucking her throat.

The tentacles reached even deeper inside her than Ghelda’s cock. Impaled from both ends, Lialeth was completely helpless. But still, the gagging noises emerging from her throat made it clear that she was still striving to pleasure the creature, and from the manic look in her eyes, it was obvious this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Watching from the sidelines, Zareen and Ghelda were utterly stunned. It was more unbelievable than ever that this could possibly be any kind of sacred ritual.

Somehow, though, it seemed to be working. Seduced by the tentacle creature’s ministrations, Hecatz was slowly relaxing into its grip, allowing the phallic tips of its many limbs to tease the entrances to her cunt and her ass. And it was plenty obvious to Zareen that she wasn’t trying to pull away anymore either.

Just for a moment, Zareen entertained the thought of joining the orgy. Why not? It was sure to be an experience.

“Lialeth!” came a sudden cry from the treeline. “In the goddess’s name, what are you doing?”

Like a blazing phoenix, Mireille descended on the tentacle beast.

There was no weapon in her hand, but she put her prodigious strength to good use prying Lialeth away from the creature. The cleric’s indignant protests meant nothing to the hero, and soon enough, she had Lialeth hefted in her arms, free from the tentacles. Without missing a beat, she sprinted back away from the camp and into the woods.

After running for several hundred yards, Mireille came to a halt and set Lialeth down. The cleric glared at her, but Mireille seemed to miss her antipathy.

“Lialeth!” Mireille cried. “I looked for you at the spring, but… goddess, what was happening? Was it Hecatz? Don’t tell me she…”

“No!” Lialeth scoffed. “She’s not the type. And do you think she could touch me without the goddess’s permission? Please!”

“Then why-“

“The real question,” Lialeth said, drawing herself up to her full height, “is why you imagine you can just run in and interrupt one of my sacred rituals? You may be a destined hero, but that doesn’t mean you can defy the will of the gods!”

Dumbstruck, Mireille just blinked. “H-huh?”

“This is just typical!” Lialeth complained. She was oblivious to her own nakedness. “I finally persuade the others to turn to the righteous path, and something has to get in the way! But I didn’t expect it to be you, Mireille. I thought better of you!”

Mireille’s jaw dropped. “Is this a joke?” she asked. “Lialeth, that was… I mean, isn’t that exactly what you’re always complaining about?”

“Of course not!” Lialeth shot back. “What are you talking about? That was holy!”

“It was exactly the kind of debauchery the cultists were practicing!” Mireille cried. “This… no. This isn’t natural. Something is wrong. Very wrong.”

Guided by her superior instincts, Mireille peered intently at the indignant Lialeth, searching for any hint of enchantment. At that very moment, the clouds parted and a beam of moonlight shone through a gap in the canopy above. Lialeth’s face was illuminated, and Mireille gasped at what she saw.

The cleric’s eyes were glowing a distinct, sinister purple.

“We’re wasting time,” Lialeth huffed impatiently. “We need to get back! I need to consecrate you too, Mireille.”

“No,” Mireille breathed, horrified. “No, I need to stop this. I need to warn the others, and break whatever spell you’re under, and-“

“Oh, for the love of the goddess!” Lialeth exclaimed. She raised her hand, drew on her magic once more, and directed it all straight at Mireille. “Dominatus personae!”

When the spell hit Mireille, there was no resistance. The hero’s willpower was formidable, but she simply wasn’t prepared. Lialeth was her trusted comrade, after all. Mireille’s shoulders slumped and her face went completely slack, all that concern and alarm giving way to placid, mindless obedience. Her arms fell to her sides, and Mireille started swaying from side to side just a little with each gust of wind. She was like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

The fated hero was completely and totally entranced.

“That’s better!” Lialeth said smugly. “I’m sorry, Mireille. But now that I’m finally getting everybody on the right track, I simply can’t risk you getting cold feet and ruining everything. I have a higher calling, after all.”

Mireille didn’t respond. She just stood there, staring, eyelids drooping and eyes glassy.

“You’ll forgive me,” Lialeth decided. “After all, you’ll feel so much better once we’ve purified you. You and all the others, of course. We’ll get you out of that armor, and once we’re back at camp we can get you into the arms of that wonderful creature Hecatz was keeping sealed away. Soon, all of us will be one with the goddess.”

“Yes, Lialeth,” Mireille replied in a flat monotone, now that she had been given something approaching a command. Moving stiffly, she started unfastening the clasps that held her armor in place and, one by one, its pieces clattered uselessly to the ground.

“Good,” Lialeth said approvingly, once the hero’s fine, athletic body was completely exposed. “Now, come along. I must make sure the others aren’t getting cold feet.”

If they were, she was sure another spell could fix it. Nothing could be allowed to stop her now. Not when she was so close to bringing the whole party together in a single, blessed congregation.

All of her doubts were in the past now. In retrospect, they were foolish. Embarrassing, even. Lialeth could hear the voice of the goddess. And as usual, her goddess had told her exactly what to do. All she had to do - all she’d ever had to do - was have faith.

Well done, my child, that voice was saying to her, as she led Mireille back to the incipient tentacle orgy at their camp. You’ve proved more useful than I could have imagined. Now I have the fated hero in my grasp! Soon, she’ll be just as devoted as you are. And after that, there will be no limits to my reach. All the land will know my touch and my gift. And it’s all thanks to you.

Lialeth just nodded in blissful rapture. It was all thanks to her. She couldn’t have asked for a better reward than those words. Soon, her struggles to make people listen to her divine teachings would be a thing of the past.

Everyone would understand. She was the voice of the goddess.

---

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#story

[astromechs]

Pure RebelCaptain behavior here.

Holding hands to balance out each other's temperatures

So...yeah. Just a thought. ;)

here's a short little snippet! ~ 1k for a little saturday morning writing exercise; i think i'll crosspost some prompt fics to ao3 in a little collected work on another day, but for now, here this is! from this list; still accepting!

Intimacy, Jyn has come to learn, is becoming fluent in an entirely unique language, one built on moments and all contained within them — sighs, steps, shifts in posture, brushes of hands.

She's not sure when, exactly, becoming fluent in Cassian had turned so automatic, so nearly effortless, but for all that he doesn't say — still can't bring himself to sometimes — he fills in the spaces for her. There's a certain sigh that means he's irritated, a certain knit to his brow and set of his mouth that indicates disapproval, a certain wide vulnerability in his eyes that shows the fear he wouldn't admit beyond closed doors; there's also a certain subtle twitch at his mouth that always betrays his amusement, the way his genuine smiles crinkle at his eyes when those for a calculated purpose never do, the way his touch is always gentle and seeking, like he can’t believe it’s happening, even now.

And at the end of this particular day, when their respective tasks are done and they’re alone, she knows exactly what it means to see him hunched in on himself like he is, head tucked and gaze barely even flicking up from the floor toward her direction, both hands stuffed in the front pockets of his parka.

Jyn has been in enough shitholes across the galaxy to confidently say that Hoth is the worst one she’s encountered yet, and so far, she hasn’t found anyone to disagree with her; frankly, anyone who doesn’t think this planet is some kind of fucking torture device needs their head checked. But she knows it’s worse on Cassian than it is on most — one, because his clear hatred of the cold in general had been obvious to her within a short time of knowing him, and also two, because on the really cold days (which is, well, every fucking day on Echo Base), his back noticeably stiffens, his steps become short and tight, and no matter how hard he tries to hide it from her, she can’t miss the way his jaw is clenched.

It’s hard, looking at him like this, holding herself back and giving him his space until the right time, when she wants nothing more than to rush in and do something.

He’s been pacing their quarters for close to half an hour now, in those tight, slow, agonizing steps that broadcast his flaring pain, and neither has spoken a word. It’s not as if there’s been total silence — he’s let out at least two of those certain irritated sighs, and she can’t pretend that she hasn’t done the same at a few points — but he hasn’t initiated a conversation, and she hasn’t pushed it. Patience isn’t as easy as the language she’s come to learn from watching him, but for Cassian, she tries.

(They both try, in their own ways. When making herself as difficult as possible has helped her to survive on her own well more than once, it’s second nature to turn those weapons on argument rather than throw them aside, and she’s seen the way he sucks in a sharp breath through a clenched jaw and takes some time before finding his words for her in return. They’re not perfect — they’ve both had their fair share of giving into baser, worse tendencies in ugly moments and saying things they regret — but they try. It’s what they can do.)

Even if it takes another hour, or more, waiting is the best thing that she can do for him now.

Fortunately, though, it isn’t another hour; it isn’t even another five minutes.

When he gets to the edge of the bunk on this round of pacing, Cassian suddenly stops moving completely. His hands are still in his pockets, he’s still hunched in on himself, but in a sidelong glance, Jyn can see that he’s regarding the bunk with the kind of intense, focused gaze that means he’s thinking. Truly considering. She keeps her distance, not intruding with words or otherwise just yet; it’s better, she knows, to let him come to a conclusion on his own, without any outside input from her or anything else.

After he exhales a long breath, he sinks down onto the mattress, slowly, painstakingly. He doesn’t do anything else, not even look at her, but the invitation he’s giving is clear.

Though a part of her is itching to rush across the room, she keeps her steps soft and quiet until she reaches the bunk, and slowly lowers herself onto it in much the same way that he had. He doesn’t jerk away from her presence, instead staying completely still, so Jyn takes that as a sign to move just a little closer, until their thighs are touching.

Beside her, his breaths are uneven, and the way he’s still holding his jaw tells her, maybe more than anything else, that nothing has improved.

If she can’t take away his pain, she thinks, she can at least do something to make the cold a little bit more fucking bearable — for him, for the both of them.

She knows exactly the kind of deflecting, minimizing bantha shit he'll say, so it's not worth wasting the time to even allow him to start. No, she shifts on the mattress, which creaks like it always does under the weight, and without warning, she tosses her glove off to the side and reaches for one of his hands still tucked into a pocket, wrapping hers around it tightly, firmly.

His fingers are ice cold when they first touch hers, but after a minute, she feels that begin to ebb.

"Better?" she ventures into the silence with an actual word for the first time, shifting only just enough to get a better look at him.

Cassian still doesn't quite meet her eyes, but he nods, so she'll consider that a victory.

Leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, she lingers, letting him take her warmth through more than just her hand; it's what he'll never ask for, but she'll always give without question or hesitation all the same. "Good."

#rebelcaptain #jyn erso #cassian andor #* fic #* prompt fic #simple acts between lovers prompts #asks #agentjackdaniels

[whitedemon-ladydeath]

it's really frustrating to be held for something i said well over 5 years ago from someone that has me blocked in the first place to the point posts im making *now* are getting tone policed by a third party. granted, it was something out of line and ableist and thoughtless towards papa archeron and its absolutely fair to be mad about it!! I completely understand and I wouldn't be caught dead saying something like that now as I have done a lot of self educating and growing and reflecting

but what makes it so frustrating is I make a post about being frustrated about Feyre not painting Nesta, but still painting their father. I believe I said something about him being useless and believe it or not, he *was* useless and it had absolutely nothing to do with him being disabled. He was a useless parent long before then. He neglected and abandoned Nesta well before he was hurt or they lost their wealth and the moment they got it back he was miraculously healed up enough to go right back to ignoring his daughters and traversing the world

his character is so hollow and flat that there's very little for me, personally, to find sympathetic. *He* lost their wealth and their fortune and in doing so he lost money to debt collectors. it's absolutely horrific that Feyre was made to bare witness to that and beg for them to stop hurting him. I identify so much with Feyre in that regard. That still does not remove the fact it was his own actions that led to that in the first place. if he got beaten within an inch of his life for losing that much money who the hell was he WORKING with in the first place (we don't know bec SJM is a shitty writer)

He is directly responsible for their loss of wealth and I am not personally holding him responsible for the last of it being used to partially heal his leg. however he IS still responsible for the loss of it in the FIRST place. his disability is a result of poor financial decisions and ofc there is no excuse to be ableist towards him for it

quite frankly he's written so poorly that there's nothing I personally can latch onto to give him much benefit of the doubt. I'm still going to hold him more responsible for not trying to find SOME WAY to take care of his daughters. NESTA reached out to relatives, FEYRE stepped up to hunt for them and he... makes wood carvings that don't even sell

Nesta being more vilified for the cabin years compared to their father, who is directly responsible for the loss of their wealth, has made me heartless towards him

he was useless before they lost their wealth and he was useless well after. He was, quite frankly, a deadbeat father, who threw Nesta to the wolves (his wife and her mother), who favored Feyre and Elain over her time and time again and I'm sorry but me saying he's useless is exactly what he was

he's a useless parent who let his children be neglected and/or further abused by his wife. maybe if SJM wrote him better, with more nuance, actually building on the dynamics between his wife and himself, instead of saying he was afraid of NESTA, a fourteen year old girl, I might have a different opinion but right now he doesn't have a whole lot of sympathy from me considering my own history with my disabled, terminally ill mother doing her best and killing herself taking care of us while also in an abusive, violent marriage

SJM didn't write it well enough for me to offer any kind of grace bec quite frankly, I am also really, really sick of father figure characters getting off the hook while the female characters are burned at the stake for being flawed and/or unperfect caretakers, which, to be clear, Nesta WAS NOT in the first place

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta archeron #sjm critical #anti sjm #papa archeron

[aquidragon]

new family [Leon Kennedy x Reader]

hello, take a quick attempt to write Papa!Leon! I don’t want kids myself but it was nice to indulge. Enjoy! If you want to read more Papa!Leon content, I’d suggest looking into @cilantro24 ‘s work!  Rating: T (16+) Content Warning(s): brief implication of sex/nudity (not directly stated though), mentions of pregnancy and childbirth Word Count: 933 ---

Leon never planned on having kids, well, maybe he did once as a bright-eyed young man before Raccoon City. Perhaps with his ex-girlfriend, whom broke up with him the day before that fateful night; when his life changed forever. In fact, he never considered starting a family after that night. However, it seemed that fate, his enemy, had other plans for him. 

He never intended to get married, the thought of placing the burden of his trauma on someone else had always bothered him. There were women in his life that he was interested in, perhaps even loved, but his fear of commitment kept him away. Leon had always kept things at an arm’s length, away from his heart, in a desperate attempt to protect himself.

That all changed when he met you. A beautiful, perfect woman, with eyes that caught him in his tracks. Never did he believe in love at first sight, as a jaded man, but something about you transformed his horrific life into a fairytale. Carnage had turned into bouquets of flowers, and late-night dates. 

Finally, for the first time in over half a decade, he had let someone in. You were his rock, and he was yours. A balance that Leon couldn’t even have dreamed about, frankly, something that he would’ve never fathomed. 

Then there was you, dressed in angelic white, down the aisle. Your glossy lips were wide on her face, as he took your hands in his own. Your vows were short and sweet, Leon admitted he wasn’t a man of many words, but he meant everything as soon as he slid the golden band on your finger. 

Your honeymoon was beyond splendid, in a secluded cabin in the mountains, far away from any possible zombies or government orders. Skinny dipping in a hot tub, sharing a bottle of expensive whiskey, after opening all of your wedding gifts. The agent’s mouth was hot on your neck, as he groaned your new name into your skin, “Mrs. Kennedy.” 

It was agony to part with you for work, as soon as you two returned to DC, as official newlyweds. The weeks were terribly long as Leon spent hours upon hours away from his wife, although he had been yours for over two years. His lips pressed against your forehead as he departed for the White House, which led him off to another mission, away from home. 

He dropped his duffel bags as he stepped through the front door, his dirty blonde hair was almost brown with all the grease and dirt that had accumulated. Exhausted blue eyes scanned the dim living room, trying to spot your figure, as he called out your name. 

Silence. 

Leon furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at his watch, it was barely past nine; you shouldn’t be asleep yet. Cautiously, he walked down the hallway, and turned the corner into the master bedroom. You were kneeling on the queen-sized mattress, holding an odd object in one hand, as the other one was scrunched up in your hair. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing in the dark?” He asked, clicking on the lights, brightening the room. 

You jumped, and spun around to look at your husband. “You’re home.” The statement sounded more like a question as you threw your hands around your back. “Why didn’t you text me?” 

Leon smiled, uneasily. “I did.”

Your mouth fell agape slightly as you reached for your cellphone, flipping it open, and looking at the message. Your expression fell as you realized that he did, indeed, texted you. Roughly thirty minutes ago, as soon as he landed back in the states. 

“Oh,” you sounded embarrassed, “I was busy.” 

Your husband chuckled as he sat on the bed beside you, the box springs squeaking in protest at the sudden weight. “What are you hiding?” He asked, pressing a chaste peck to your cheek. 

You bit your lip, and looked away. “It’s, something.” 

Leon’s dark eyebrows quirked upward, noticing your anxious fidgeting. “Oh? What is it?” He questioned gently. 

You exhaled deeply, shoulders visibly lowering before you took another inhale. After gathering your senses, you looked at your lover, looking into his bold cobalt blue eyes. You swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut as you shoved the pink object into his hands. “I’m pregnant.” 

---

Nine months flew by before Leon had known it, a tiny, bundle of human cooed in his arms. He smiled at his newborn, who looked up at him with curious, sapphire eyes. “Look at you, so small.” The blonde used one of his fingers to tickle the infant’s nose, who squealed with laughter. “Take after your daddy, don’t you?” 

“He certainly does,” you responded, tiredly from the hospital bed. “He is a spitting image of you.” 

Leon looked at you with glee, genuine joy lighting across his face. “He has your hair and lips!” Your husband pointed out, lowering your son so you could see. 

This made you laugh, shaking your head. “I know what our son looks like Leon, I gave birth to him five hours ago.” 

The agent brought the baby back closer to his chest, and let out a deep hum. “You did amazing, I would’ve never seen myself here if it wasn’t for you.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to your temple. “You’ve made me into a husband and a father.” 

You snorted, leaning back onto your mountain of pillows. “You played at least fifty percent into that.” 

Leon smirked, bouncing the infant in his arms, starting to rock him to sleep. “I don’t regret it.” You smiled back at him, giggling softly. “Neither do I.” 

#resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #papa!leon #leon kennedy happy for once #it's rare #but it happens

[creepycrawliesanonymous]

a/n this is way too long, it started as a blurb and then the spirit of the reader-insert goddess possessed me and this is what I have to show for it, totally could've been longer but I restrained myself, so if the masses want a part two just shoot the message my way

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

You had a feeling most people your age would be more excited about the prospect of sharing a house with an up-and-coming rock band in Los Angeles. Perhaps you yourself were more excited leading up to your move, packing up your bare essentials and your typewriter, sipping a cocktail in the smoking section of the plane, listening to David Bowie in the taxi over to the house. And what a house it was! You were given the run-down over the phone by the woman who put the listing out, Camila Something (never great with the last names, you were), not put off by the alleged haunted-ness of the house. If anything, the various ghosts and ghouls would serve as inspiration for your screenplay. There was not much that could dampen your spirits at this point, lugging your bags towards the front door and rapping your knuckles on the wood.

Except, of course, the obvious.

Moving from your parents' house to a college dorm had been, as you recall, a bit of a shock to the system. If that was the case then, it was nothing compared to moving into the closet-like space that was the remaining bedroom. You had gotten an apologetic smile from Camila... Alv- shit, Alvaro? It was leaving your head already. You felt bad, she had been nice enough to welcome you into the house and shown you to your shoebox of a living space.

"None of the boys wanted this room, so you should be left alone most of the time. Warren swears it's the epicenter for all the ghosts...," she nervously chuckled, "and whatnot." You took a nibble of the chocolate-chip cookie she gave you. "So just, take all the time you need to settle in, the group is out rehearsing for a gig tonight so you'll be on your own for dinner." She paused. "Unless you'd like to come see them, which would be more than fine! They're all so excited to meet you, especially Karen I think. She's been dying for some more estrogen in the house, me as well."

You swallowed. "I think I'll just stay in tonight, thank you." You cringed at yourself as she visibly faltered.

"No problem, uh, there's some leftover beer and pizza in the fridge if you get hungry, just help yourself to whatever you need." She was a saint, you thought, taking whatever awkwardness you possessed in stride. She even helped carry in your bag, setting it carefully on your twin bed. You insisted on taking in your typewriter yourself. It now lived on one of the cardboard boxes in the corner of your room, presumably left over from the group's initial move. "I'll get Billy to move those."

"It's fine." You had no desk. This was actually preferable to writing on the floor.

Camila gave you one last warm smile before returning back to the living room. You waited until she was out of earshot, stood up, and closed the door behind her.

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

You were on your own late into the night, into the small hours of the morning. Camila had left the house at around 8:30, after which you snuck out of your room to rummage through the fridge. True to her word, there was a box of pizza within the fridge, with two slices remaining. Considering you were now sharing a place with four boys, this seemed like a small miracle to you. You ate both of them cold, sitting at the dining room table. While you ate, you took the time to take in your surroundings.

The kitchen, frankly, was not in the best shape. Pots and dishes piled up in the sink and the counters looked like they needed a serious scrubbing. The living room had beer bottles littering the floor, and the couch looked distinctly tread on.

You took another bite of your frozen pizza. This would do just nicely.

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

Tired from your day of travel (and the handful of plane cocktails you had ingested) you retired to your bed relatively early. It would seem in this house, early meant any time before 2 a.m., and on-time would be closer to 4, which was around the time you were startled awake by a car pulling up and a small crowd of people piling through the backdoor into the kitchen.

"I swear there was pizza left over this morning."

"Eddie, we have a new roommate." That was Camila. "She needs to eat, too."

"Yeah, where is she?" A British voice piped up, moving from the kitchen roughly towards the living room. "Don't tell me she's in bed already."

"Just because you rock-and-rollers like to stay up doesn't mean everybody does," Camila laughed out. "Speaking of which, I'm beat. I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Right behind you." A deeper voice sounded, and two sets of footsteps walked off presumably to their bedroom. You suspected that was Billy.

"Should we go find her?" You felt as if your spine had been doused in cold water.

"Don't be stupid." British again. Someone moved around the living room, a record needle scratched and the quiet sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival started playing throughout the room.

The house started to mellow out after that; you expected the rest of them went to bed, and the ones that stayed out were smoking. It was at that moment that your bladder started to call for your attention in earnest. Weighing your options, you decided venturing out of your bedroom would be less treacherous than pissing your bed on your first night.

The journey to the bathroom you managed to avoid other people, it was the journey back that you slipped up. There was only one person in the living room, and there was only one of you in the hallway, so there was no mistaking that when he was waving, he was waving at you. To make matters worse, he was strikingly handsome, and you were deeply sleepy. Before you could stop yourself, you waved back. He held up the joint he was smoking in your direction. You shook your head. He gave you an exaggerated pout, wiping an invisible tear off his cheek. Not totally convinced that what was happening to you was real, you quietly slunk off back to bed.

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

There was a small window in your room, the sill lined with small potted plants. The morning sun beamed through that window, casting a glowing light onto your bed. You reached your hand around looking for your pillow to throw over your head, prying your eyes open to see it lying on the floor next to your headboard. Groaning, you sat up, resigning yourself to the morning.

The house was quiet. 9 a.m. was evidently too early for anybody except you to be awake. You tiptoed your way into the kitchen, searching for a loaf of bread or an oatmeal pack. What didn't escape your notice, was the man sleeping soundly on the coach in the living room. The same man, you saw, that your had encountered last night. In the morning light you were able to get a better look at him. You were right to see that he was handsome, with his curly brown hair and his strong nose. Taking a bite of your buttered bread, you let yourself stare at him for just a few moments. Too many moments, in fact. You realized this when suddenly the boy on the couch was staring back at you.

"You didn't come smoke with me last night."

At that moment, you felt more empathy for deers in headlights than any other living soul on the planet.

"Good morning."

"Is it?" He looked over to the windows streaming in light. He beamed. "It is."

You hurried back to your room, the piece of bread squished within your clenched fist.

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

Your first few weeks you spent writing. It was very clear that you kept a very different schedule from everyone else in the house, except for maybe Camila. By virtue of being the only two in the house for long stretches of the day, she was the one in the house that you became the closest to the fastest. In the afternoons she would encourage you to bring your typewriter out into the dining room to keep her company while she poured over photographs from the night before. You would both slip into a comfortable silence, save for the clacking of your keys.

When you weren't writing you were watching TV. Camila had gotten Billy to drive you downtown along with a list of groceries, where you purchased for yourself the smallest television set you could find. While Billy and you said the equivalent of about three sentences to each other that trip, he had carried it into the house for you and even helped set it up in your room. The tiny screen sat in the corner on top of one of the cardboard boxes, consistently tuned to CBS so you could watch re-runs of Scooby Doo.

There was another television set in the living room. It was slightly bigger than yours, too. Maybe it even got more channels. You didn't use it.

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

Camila greatly appreciated your company. She adored the band that she lived with, and she loved Billy with all her heart, but she couldn't deny that uprooting herself from Pittsburgh and moving across the country wasn’t an easy change. Putting out ads looking for a roommate, while being somewhat financially motivated (only so much pocket toast could be eaten by one household), was, perhaps subconsciously, a yearning for companionship, for a friend to fill the hours where the house would otherwise be empty.

And she adored you. You may have been a tough nut to crack, she slowly but surely got you to open up, got you talking about films coming out that you wanted to see, your childhood dog that would puke all over your room, your favorite classes in high school. The little things that were once guarded under layers of uncertainty and self-isolation. She would ask for your opinions on the photos she took, and you would ask her about your word choice. Before heading out for the night, she would always ask you if you wanted to come with, and she was sure she was getting closer and closer to the day you would say yes.

She was also pretty sure you had a thing for Warren. Like, 99.8% sure.

You never brought him up. She started dropping his name in your daily conversation, and would watch as your fingers would still on the keys of your typewriter. You would stutter for a few seconds before taking a breath and composing yourself, nervously glancing over at her to make sure she didn't notice. She never gave you any indication that she did, but of course she noticed.

She also noticed how Warren would scan the audience every night from behind his drum kit, and how his face would subtly fall when he couldn't spot you. Or how he started nagging the group to go home earlier than usual, and would drag his feet a little more in the early afternoons before leaving for rehearsals. The final straw on the camel's back came when he had bought a tiny ceramic kitten and asked her to give it to you.

"She likes cats, right?" It was close to three in the morning when he had cornered her in the kitchen, holding up the small black cat in the light of the oven lamp. "It seemed like something she'd like."

"You know, you can be asking her these questions yourself."

"I don't wanna spook her." He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Playing the long game, huh?"

"I've got time." He froze, eyes slowly widening. "I mean, I don't know what you're talking about."

She plucked the cat from his hands, patting him on the shoulder. "Go to bed, Rojas."

She slid the cat over to you the next morning while you were eating your cereal.

"What is this?" You gingerly picked it up.

"It's from Warren." You quickly set it back down. "It's for you."

You don't think your face has ever been hotter than it was that day. The cat lived on you windowsill, next to the potted plants. Every time you watered you felt a warmness blooming in your chest, running a finger delicately over its head.

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

"Hey, you know what channel M*A*S*H airs on, right?"

On a rare day off, the band had settled in around the television in the living room; Camila and Billy sharing the chair in the corner, Graham and Karen lying over each other on the floor, with Eddie perched on the stool in front of the set, his hand on the dial. Warren had spread himself out on the couch, lying down comfortably smoking a joint.

"Uh, yeah." You paused in the doorway. "Yeah, sorry, uh, it's on CBS."

"Great, thanks." Eddie fiddled around with the set before standing up. "Are you gonna join us? I mean, you can join us if you want to."

"Oh, um," you're eyes wildly scanned the room for any hint of disapproval. They landed on Warren, who was hazily looking at you with an easy smile on his face. "Yeah, sure."

"Warren, move your legs," Camila spoke from across the room. Still looking at you, Warren lifted his legs off the couch, inviting you to sit down. As you took your seat, he lowered his legs back down on your lap. He held out the joint, in a movement reminiscent of your first encounter. Never not one for consistency, you shook your head. He shrugged and stuck the joint back between his lips, turning his attention to Alan Alda on the TV. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you tentatively rested them on his calves. You didn't notice, but right next to you the corners of Warren's mouth ever so subtly turned upwards.

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

M*A*S*H, as groundbreaking of a show as it was, was not enough to hold the attention of 7 adults for an extended amount of time. Camila left the group first, but not before dropping you a wink as she left the room. Slowly but surely, the rest of the group left to go putter around in their respective corners of the house, before it was just you and Warren, who had finished his joint and transitioned to laying his head in your lap. His face was looking up towards you, but his eyes were closed, looking so relaxed he reminded you of a cat showing their belly. Not fully aware of yourself, you had rested one of your hands on the side of his waist, while the other was running through his hair. The scene was so intimate you were practically choking on it.

"Will you come to our show this weekend?"

Your hand stilled.

"Hmm?"

"I'd like you to, if you want to." He reached his hand up to yours, nudging it to get you to resume your petting. "I'll buy you dinner afterwards."

"You don't need to do that."

He cracked open his eyes, his face splitting into a grin.

"Girlie, I'll take you to dinner any night that you let me."

You barked out a laugh despite yourself. You felt like you were dreaming. He started giggling, too.

"I will!" His thumb was rubbing the meat of your forearm, drawing small circles on your skin. "I'll get you another little cat, too. My finances aren't robust but I'll find a way." The heart eyes he was sending your way were overwhelming.

"I- okay!"

"Really?" Warren sat up, eyes scanning your face, grinning wildly. Not trusting your voice, you nodded emphatically. Looking slightly awestruck, he reached over and cupped your face. "You won't regret this, honey. I'm gonna treat you so well." Someone called him from another room, and reluctantly he let go of you. Subconsciously you started reaching for him. As he stood up, he leaned over and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.

"I'm gonna name a boat after you!"

After he left the room, you breathed out a holy cow, and then another quiet chuckle.

Warren Rojas was gonna be the death of you, and you were counting on it.

#warren rojas #warren rojas x reader #djats x reader #if this gets one note i will write the date fic #i will like this myself if i have to

[amethystfairy1]

I'll be entirely honest here—the only Traveling Thieves stories I've read are the ones with Pearl and/or Gem in them. XD Regardless, I absolutely love them and the latest one destroyed me in all the best ways; it's been a long time since a story has had me that tensed up on the edge of my seat along with feeling so many emotions, and it was incredibly well written and just so dang good!! I've frankly reread it several times at this point, and it just hurts so good so thank you for that! I love it. ^^

Something mentioned in it got me curious, though—and I apologize if this has already been brought up/asked about before—but why does Pearl still have the slave collar on and active? Can it not come off, or does she keep it on for appearance's sake? 'Cause Gem very clearly does not view her as her slave or property, and I imagine that the collar's an unwanted reminder of what Pearl's been through/been conditioned to think and feel.

Anyways, I'm so excited to see what you write next with Gem and Pearl (will we get an aftermath fic, maybe? I at least am so interested in Pearl's perspective/thoughts about the ambush and her sacrifice!); you write their dynamic perfectly! Thank you for sharing your beautiful works with the world. =D

I’m so glad you enjoy Shiny Duo in Traveling Thieves! If the tension and the angst got to ya then I did my job well! 👏

As for your question, that whole issue has been discussed in other Traveling Thieves fics, specifically the ones with Swagon gang, that is Grian Mumbo and Scar, but I totally don’t mind summarizing it here!

Basically, while it is legal, albeit difficult, for most hybrids to live free in the old continent, avians in particular are barred from ever being freed. They are considered too powerful and too dangerous to live freely, and also considering the mentality with which they are raised, having them capable of going free, would be bad news for humans, or at least that’s what the humans think. And unfortunately, they are the ones who make the rules! 😓

So Pearl cannot be freed. Gem could remove the collar, sure, but then the next time any paladin or other law enforcement within the old continent asked to see that Pearl is under contract, they’d be in big trouble. It’s not possible to deactivate or wear a fake collar either, because the checkpoints along roads and into any town or city might ask to see Gems contract to ensure Pearl is actually under her ownership. It’s all to ensure avians in particular can never go free.

As for Pearl, she barely even notices she’s wearing the collar anymore…her headspace has gotten better since she’s been with Gem over a year by now, but she’s still very much in a conditioned mentality 😭

We will be getting lots more from Soup Group and the aftermath of Pearls sacrifice and injuries, yes yes yes! Please look forward to it!!! Thanks so much! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #traveling thieves au #worldbuilding #shinyduo #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #impulsesv #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #dark fantasy

[yoongis-black-grilfriend]

Only You. 

Someone sent in a request asking me to write more Elvis so here you go let me know if this is good!

Summary: You get jealous and try to leave Austin! Elvis.

Warnings: Angst (in the beginning), SMUT,  Elvis is kind of toxic in this, dark content? Knife play (the reader gets fucked with a knife), Oral (female receiving) and passing out (from pleasure).

Slamming the door behind you, you race up stairs to your shared bedroom with your boyfriend Elvis. You pick out a bag and try to shove as many things as you could that would last you a couple of days. 

You were so done with him as you angrily shoved your belongings into your pink duffle bag moving fast when you heard him close the door behind him. “C’mon sweetness there is nothing to be upset about, I was just being friendly” rolling your eyes you move to your bathroom, picking up your skin and body care and putting that into your bags as well. 

When you step out back into the room Elvis is there waiting for you to go out of the bathroom you walk past him making sure to bump your shoulder with his. He barely felt it but that didn't stop him from chuckling while shaking his head side to side. 

“You really are something, you know that?” you don't know what he's talking about and quite frankly you really don't care. “If i’m not like this with my fans they're going to lose interest with me and they're going to think that I don’t care for them” he said tiredly trying to reason with you.

For years you had put up with him flirting with other women in front of you, he would compliment them, and play into their little fantasies and you would go along with it because you thought “why would I want to ruin the relationship with his fans with seeing how close he is with them” but tonight is where you draw the line.

Not only did this man have the nerve to kiss damn near every woman in the crowd he also had the nerve to try to kiss you after! Sighing you look at him “Look I'm just going to go to a friend's house for a few days and then I'll see where my head is at and then we'll talk, but right now I really don’t want to speak to you.” 

He perked up when he heard you mention that you were going to leave and barely noticed that you had bags packed on your shared bed. He wasn't going to let you leave he knew you like the back of his hand. If you step foot out of this house he knew there was going to be a chance you would never return and he was not going to let that happen. 

Shaking his head he grabbed your bags and started to dump everything from inside them. “Your not fucking leaving me y/n were going to talk about this like adults” Tears sprung in your eyes he was not going to make this easy for you. “Elvis let me go I don’t want to be with you right now” he continued to throw his tantrum “Just let us talk about this please! I-” he was interrupted by the sound of a horn beeping outside.

You freeze. You didn't think your friend was going to come this quickly but you're glad he was because you needed to get away from this man before you actually started to consider staying. 

Elvis looks out the window and into the driveway turning to you he asks “Who is in our driveway right now y/n?” you chose to stay quiet “WHO THE FUCK IS OUR DRIVEWAY Y/N” he moved toward you the closer he got the more you moved until your back hit the wall. 

Elvis looked enraged; he had a vein in his forehead that looked like it was about to pop and his face was so red. He laughed deeply like he genuinely thought this was funny looking into your eyes. He stops, gives you a quick peck on the lips and leaves making his way down stairs.  You take off after him knowing what he is about to do probably wasn't going to be good. You reach the bottom of the stairs and you see him in the kitchen. You were confused until you saw him bring out a kitchen knife trying to make his way into the door. 

“You always have people come in between us y/n, why can't you just let us be happy?”, “Your about to cause this poor boy his life ALL BECAUSE YOU CAN”T ACCEPT US” you shook your head “This is not because of me this is because your deranged and you like to WHORE yourself out to your fans!” he was not about to spin this around on you when he was the one that started this. 

Continuing you walk up to him, your chest touching. “Look at you, you're about to kill someone because they're picking me up, but you can go on stage and have full on makeout sessions with random women and expect me to not react?” he looks down at you taking in your words he knows you're right but in his mind he still can’t let you go. 

Grasping your face with his hands you can feel the cold metal of the knife pressing in your cheek “Baby I know, I understand what you're saying I really do but the way I do things is the way we can afford this lifestyle, it provides us with food, shelter, and things that make us happy. I know you don’t like sharing me with anyone else and I understand but you have to realize that these women mean absolutely nothing to me. I do all of this so I can take care of you and my family” 

Mr. Elvis Presely deserves an award for the way he convinces you not to walk out on him. You really, really wanted to continue to argue with him because there were definitely flaws in his statement but it has come to a point where you don’t care because you're just so meantally exhausted and drained and you also know that wherever you go he will follow. What would the point be in running if you were just going to crawl right back to him no matter what? 

This man was your first everything and he was going to make sure he was the last. Sighing you blink a couple of times trying to distract yourself from the desperate look in his eyes. “Please forgive me baby, please”. He bent his head into your neck giving your open mouth kisses muttering apologies between each one. He trails the knife down your face making your breathing speed up causing your stomach to erupt in pleasure. 

Stopping at your breast he pushes the tips of the knife into the fabric of your shirt and cuts off the whole thing. Reaching down he starts to nibble on the flesh, taking the knife and reaching behind you cutting your bra straps off. “Oh Elvis please do something” you whined moving your hips against nothing hoping to get any type of friction.  

All you have left on is your skirt and you really hoped he would not cut this one up because you actually liked it. He must have read your mind because he was still dragging the knife against your body and had the tip of the knife to your abdomen. Setting the knife down he pulls your skirt down revealing your glistening clit. “Oh my god Mama you are so wet and pretty down here”. You throw your head back when you feel him leaving soft kisses on your clit. Looking up at you he can see light bruises on your neck and breast some of them old some of them new. He stops for a quick second and stands up grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch in your living room. 

Elvis pushes you slightly onto the couch with you in the middle cushion and gets down on his knees once again. Wrapping his arms around your ass he pushes you to the very edge of the couch and spreads your legs all the way open. You breathe heavily when the cold air bushes across your clit.

Sticking his tongue out your boyfriend licks one stripe of your pussy before he dives all the way in nose deep in your pussy. “Fuck Elvis your making me feel so good my love” you buck your hips into his face making his eyes roll back in his head over the wounderful taste of your juices all over his face, Reaching to the side of him he pulls the knife out and circles  the handle againset your cunt You moan at the foriegn feeling but let out a gasp as he eases it into you.

Tears prick at your eyes at the delicious feeling of the cold object hitting the inside of your abdomen. Elvis goes lapping at your clit as he feels you shake at the simulation. His eyes take in your body and land on your lower stomach and he sees that the handle of the knife is stabbing against your lower stomach. Detaching his lips from your clit he attaches it to the part of stomach that holds the outline of the piece of steel and leaves open mouth kisses on it without a doubt leaving more marks and with you a wet stomach.

Making his way down he once again attacks your clit and meets the pace of your hips with the knife leaving a few scratch wounds here in there due the tip of the knife being near his revealed chest but he didn’t care he liked the pain and he liked pleasing you more. He sucks and flicks his tongue faster as he knows you're about to cum soon.

Your eyes are closed, your skin is hot and your body is shaking violently as you feel the handle hit your cervix over and over again along with Elvis' tongue hitting that perfect spot. With three more thrust of the knife and the tip of Elvis tongue the pleasure snaps like water breaking out of a dam as you feel yourself squirting everywhere. On the couch, your stomach, and to his pleasure Elivs face. He moves the knife inside you still chasing after your orgasm you weakly try to stop him but you can’t because soon after your vision fades to black. 

#austin butler #austin butler as elvis #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #elvis 2022 #elvis (2022) #elvis biopic #smut #austin butler x reader smut #imagine #oneshot #austin butler elvis #elvis movie #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler x woc reader #elvis x black reader #austin butler smut #elvis #elvis presely #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis fic #elvis presley x black reader