#Centerpieces of the Hoard

[thegnomelord]

feral Mage reader that sees the ropes under Price's clothing and can't help but stare at it all day, but being the cocky bastard he is, he refuses to admit how turned on it makes him when confronted by price

Price Does Shibari

CW: NSFW but no sex, shibari and rope bondage, teasing, military inaccuracies. Shitty and quick but god the brainrots are killing me. Price's chest is like this, ass like this

As a mage, you are many things, chief amongst them — Arrogant. Price is everything you aren't: calm, tactical, humble, and most of all patient. He knows just how impulsive you are and makes it a 'fun' game of riling you up and seeing how long you can go before your arrogance breaks and you're on your knees begging for him.

On the nights you spend in his room you usually wake up first, but this time when you roll over to get a final snuggle with him you find his side of the bed empty. Rolling back over you look around and your blurry eyes settle on his back. God every part of him is your favorite but his back does things to you, the strong muscle shifting beneath his skin with every motion of his arms, the way you can follow the trail of sparse dark brown hair from his shoulders and down his spine to his thick arse and thighs.

But as your vision clears you notice something else; Rope

It's the same color your eyes were before your magic gave them an unnatural glow. The ropes start at mid thigh, tied firm to make his thighs even more plush and squeezable, going up his legs to meet more rope like a garter belt. Knots are tied from his balls up his perineum to crisscross just below his tailbone, going above and along the crease where his arse meets his thighs. It hides his hole but you can't complain when the knots spread and push his cheeks out, giving them better definition that has your hands twitching for a squeeze.

"Did I die and go to heaven?" You can't help but say, shamelessly and obviously groping your cock over the bedsheets.

"Peter would never let you past the gates." He snorts and turns to you, his attention fixed on wrapping the ropes. But he smirks when you feels your eyes take him in.

The ropes wrapping along the crease of his hips come up to wrap and crisscross near his dick, making it stand out. Your eyes trail up, following the intricately tied knots up his torso, the rope bright and vibrant against the backdrop of his dark body hair. You almost swallow your tongue when your eyes arrive at his chest. The ropes tied in more knots create tight triangles around each pec until they're pushes out and perky, creating a diamond shape just bellow the start of his sternum and disappearing over his shoulders.

"Wha'd I do to deserve this?" You ask as you drink him in. You would never have the patience to do something like that, but good god does he look good in this.

"Nothing." He smirks, arms flexing so the rope strains against his muscles and pushes his chest out even more.

Your danger senses should have been triggered there and then, but then he was bending over to grab his pants off the floor and the ropes were spreading his asscheeks wide and you could just about catch a glimpse of his hole beneath the knots and your brain was leaking into your cock.

"You didn't do anything." He continues, and a disheartened noise escapes you when he hides his perfect arse in his pants that are just loose enough to hide the ropes when he stands still or doesn't bend too much. "Doin' this for me sweetheart."

"Liar." You accuse, pushing away the sheets so you can properly grope your cock — a half hearted attempt to tempt him into returning to bed. "You're not seriously going to-"

"Don't forget you have recruit duty today soldier." He cuts you off, a downright evil look in his eyes when he puts on a tight shirt and then a standard issue jacket. "Stop wastin' time with your cock in your hand and get up already."

You barely manage a response before he's going out the door, pausing only to bend over at the last second to tie his shoes and make your eyes go to his arse when the pants strain to contain it.

The day is complete hell for you and Price joins you for the majority of it. You don't take it out on the recruits. You definitely don't target any recruit that eyes Price's chest a second too long(even when you do the same), especially when Price crosses his arms and pushes his chest out and you can just imagine those ropes leaving red lines across his skin and perking his pecs up. You certainly don't throw a ball of magic at the recruit who stumbles face first into Price's chest while doing ash magic training.

It's made even worse for you when you're called for a general meeting for battle strategy and you're standing behind him. Even when you try your eyes still go down to his arse when he bends over the table to point at something and his arse fills out his pants and that has your cock filling with blood faster than anything.

"Mage, are you listening?" Price barks and throws a look over his shoulder, bringing everyone's eyes to you.

"Yeah," You grunt, trying not to draw attention to your predicament. "I'm paying attention."

"Paying real close attention." Gaz snickers next to Soap, their amusement intensifying when you glare at them.

Price continues as if nothing's wrong, going over battle tactics and terrain as if he's not wearing ropes instead of underwear under his pants, as if his chest doesn't push out more than usual when he crosses his arms, as if he can't feel your burning gaze at his back. When the meeting ends you stick around while the others leave, letting your eyes firmly fix on his backside.

"You're awfully distracted today sweetheart." He smirks, turns to rest his hip against the table and cross his arms.

"I'm attentive enough." You argue, trying to appear dismissive. Sometimes your pride is a real killer.

"Mhmm." He hums, "And your lil'lad is definitely not tenting your pants." Price is mean, knows exactly when you try to deflect and is quick to point it out.

"You're imagining." Huffing you wave him off, shifting from one leg to the other to put the pressure of your pants off your poor cock. Your cock's been half-hard for at least half a day, your body begging to feel him— to pull him by the ropes on his chest and kiss him till you're both breathless —even when you stubbornly hold on.

"I'm imagining. Is that so?" He tilts his head, a smug little smirk on his lips. "Well, then you'll be happy to know you're doing graveyard shift with me."

Fuck. A full night of just doing paperwork with him, knowing what lied beneath his clothes, sounded like hell and made heaven sing in your blood. "Lovely."

"Yeah, ah' thought so." Price smirks, turns and bends over the table to grab some documents. You swallow hard when his ass pushes out against his pants, you can just about see a bit of rope peek beneath the material. "Get back to work." He says with a smirk as he stands up, walking away with a seductive and hypnotic sway of his hips.

You're not at your breaking point just yet...

But you're close.

[thegnomelord]

I was trying to save it as a draft instead I publish it and went to get a nap:/, it's fully written this time :Dd

CW: NSFW, stepcest, Dom Price, daddy kink, dub-con, spanking, blowjob's, grinding, I have no shame(again)

Price knew he had his work cut out for him when your mother introduced you two, hearts in her eyes blinding her to the offended look you threw his way. You didn't have the heart to tell your sweet mother she was delusional if she thought you'd have a father son relationship with a man you didn't know. You made that clear to him with firm and harsh words— that he's not your father, he's just the third exception in the long list of boyfriends your mom has.

And Price? Price just smirks, seeing your actions as a painfully obvious cry for attention from an older man. He's sympathetic, it's not your fault you never had a masculine figure in your life to straighten you out, but fuck if his cock doesn't twitch at the thought of taming a brat, of teaching you to be an upstanding young man he knows you can be.

He can't throw his weight around while he's not yet married to your mother as you'll just throw it back in his face, voice just at the edge of mockery when your mother forces you to apologise. You mean to insult him without her noticing, but to Price's ears it just sounds as if you're tempting him to put you in your place.

Price starts slow; his hand wandering and groping your thigh under the dinner table, amusement glittering in his eyes as he casually chats with your oblivious mom while you're stuck silent, too headstrong to openly call him out and not wanting to make a scene. He jokes with you, calling you a moody teen when you refuse to help him with one thing or another, only to begrudgingly do it when your mother orders you to.

And Price takes great pleasure in 'correcting' you when you inevitably mess up — "What's the matter, son, need daddy to show you how to do it?" He purrs as he steps behind you, broad powerful frame trapping you against the desk, wide chest pressed flush against your back. The low purr in his voice short-circuits your brain long enough for his paw like hands to settle over yours, guiding your arms to show you how it's done while your mind struggles to process his half-hard cock brushing against the curve of your ass. And when you absentmindedly do the task correctly he leans in to whisper "Good job, my boy." in your ear, leaving you be before your frazzled brain can notice your confusingly hard cock or become angry at him.

Their wedding is a fancy traditionall affair, no expenses spared. He doesn't even feel bad about the small dent in his wallet when he sees you in that suit he'd ordered specifically for you, his eyes raking across every line and curve of your body as the suit hugs you in just the right way. You're stuck as the ring bearer— because of course you are — forced to fake a smile and bear his gaze because this is a wedding damn it and your body needs to stop getting hot when he looks at you like that; like he wants to lay you down on the altar and devour you.

After their marriage you act as if nothing's changed, he's just your mom's husband now. And you try your best to ignore him, to distance yourself, to spend as much time out of the house as you can because you can't stand the way your dumb animal brain wants to lean in every time he touches you, the way you get just a little hard when Price brushes a hand on your thigh or grips your hip to keep you still.

Then a golden opportunity falls into Price's lap when he, while he's looking for the phone charger you'd borrowed, finds your stash of weed. He and your mom had been planning to go on a date, but she got called for work and Price had been left to his own devices.

Your mother would kick you out if she found out you smoked weed, so your heart all but leaps to your throat when you come back to see him sitting on your bed, mock disappointment on his face as he holds the little bag of weed in his hand. "Up for a bit of gardening are you?" Your hear the grin in his voice.

For a second you contemplate feigning ignorance, maybe running away to live at a friend's house, or even telling your mom that he planted it, but you know it's no use; she'd believe the sky was green if he told her, and nothing you could say would change her mind. So you swallow the bile and anxiety building in your throat, squaring your shoulders like you're about to go to war and ask, "What do you want?"

"Relax lad, I won't go tattling on you." Amusement dances in his blue eyes as Price leans back, legs spread to purposely make your eyes roam down his body to latch on to the prominent bulge in his pants. You watch his mouth move but no words enter your ears, your mind burns with the way a bit of his unruly and thick chest hair peeks out beneath his unbuttoned white shirt, the buttons of his waistcoat straining to contain his bulk.

You kick yourself when you feel your mouth go dry, focusing your eyes on that one hole in your wall behind his head because you know he knows what you were thinking. "What?" You ask as a way of returning to the conversation.

"Poor boy. Is there something on your mind, son?" Price chuckles, pride burning in his chest at how flustered you are. "I said I won't tattle," He hums and slips the bag of weed into his waistcoat pocket. "But I do need to punish you. A young man shouldn't be disrespecting his ma like you are." Then before you can think of a comeback, before you can think at all, he pats his thigh. "Come here, over my lap."

Your brain freezes, glitching like an ancient computer; the last time you'd been in someone's lap, you were six and the guy was a mall Santa. "What the fuck?" Is the only thing making out of your throat, more of an instinctual reaction than anything thought out.

"Language." He chides, as if he doesn't use it himself. "You need to learn your lesson. So either get over here and take your punishment like a good boy," He purposely makes his voice come out deep and rumbling, loving the way you shiver. "or I tell your mother about the devil's lettuce you've smoking with your chav buddies."

You bite your lip so hard you're sure you're bleeding, too many thoughts running through your head and the way he clears his throat makes it obvious you don't have an eternity to ponder. "Fine." You sneer with as much venom as you can muster, stomping over to him. You try appear tough, because maybe that'll make him back down, but Price has seen more than enough posturing from military brats to know one good session of reddening their ass is enough to put them in line. You'll be no different, but for the moment he lets you stand in front of him, already seeing the wheels turning in your head thinking of how you even get in his lap, let alone what he wants with you.

You don't have to think long before he just grabs you and throws you over his lap, one large hand on your back to stabilise and hold you down as you squirm. "Oh you fucker!" You growl, trying to get off to no avail.

"What did I tell you about language, son?" Price says, not rising to your provocations, leaning over your body to grip your chin. He tilts your head up, his lips brushing against your ear to whisper "These are the consequences of your actions, I know my boy can take them." in that low tone of voice he knows gets your brain liquifying into mush for a few minutes; enough for the hand on your back to move and slide your sweats and boxers down to just beneath the swell of your ass.

The need to fight back sparks up again the moment you feel his calloused palm brush against your bare skin, reigniting your struggle. "Hey, let me go you perverted piece of shit." You snarl as you attempt to squirm away, going so far to throw an elbow his way when all he does is laugh.

Next thing you know your hands are tied behind your back with his belt, a resounding 'smack' echoing through the house and your yelp coming soon after as your brain registers the slap. Price is heavy handed when it matters, the size of his palm leaving a large handprint on your reddening ass just from that one spank.

"How many times do I need to remind you about your language?" Price growls, not angry or harsh or cold, but firm, landing a matching slap on your other asscheek that has you biting your tongue to hold back your noises. "Is this what you wanted boy?" Each word earns you another spank, your ass quickly running out of spots that don't burn with pain. "For your daddy to put you in your place? Hmm? Show you how to act right?"

He uses a completely random pattern so you can never prepare, layering on several slaps on one spot in quick succession only to suddenly slam down on the other cheek, letting your brain forget about his original target just so he can see you squirm when he pinches your reddening flesh. It doesn't matter how many insults you throw his way or how much you squirm, he just continues on his mission to completely bruise your ass, his own hand tingling from the force.

The resounding 'clap' of flesh on flesh, the burning throbbing pain radiating from your ass down your legs and up your spine, the firm hand holding you down, forcing you to just take it— it makes you flush with heat, embarrassment coursing through your veins, blood pooling in your mouth from how tightly you bite your lip, your resolve dwindling slap after slap.

Another spank is the final crack in your dam and you break, "I'm sorry-" just a small hiccup escapes past your clenched teeth, tears prickling your eyes and the fact your crying while strung over another man's lap just has humiliation nipping harder at you.

Price eases off almost instantly, calloused hand lovingly brushing against the inflamed swell of your ass. "There you go, my strong boy," He murmurs praises into your ear, his voice like a rough rumbling purr. "Learned your lesson, yeah?"

He smirks as you nod your head, gasping and hiccupping, finding you so handsome with tears and snot staining your skin. "Yes," You manage, whole body shaking from the abuse your ass had received.

Price chuckles, and the light slap against your burning ass he does is purely self-indulgent, "Yes what?" He asks, biting his lip at the way your ass giggles from the small impact, cock hardening up in his trousers at the way you whimper and try to squirm away. "Come on son, you know this," His voice is like a purr, his other hand tenderly holding your chin, thumb brushing away your tears. "Use that pretty mind of yours, clever lad."

You almost cringe at the next words that leave your mouth, but the need to escape further pain has you whimpering out- "Yes. . .daddy." You ground out, desperately trying to ignore how having to refer to him as that, has your cock stirring with interest. Damn you and your hormones.

Oh, if that doesn't get him hard, nothing will; the pathetic look in your eyes couple with the turmoil of having to submit to him making Price smirk. "Now that wasn't hard?" He shifts you to sit in his lap, brushing fresh tears as even the sensation of soft cotton against your tender rear has you hissing through clenched teeth. "You did so good, so I'm so proud of you." He grips your chin gently, tilting you up to look at him.

Price knows that punishment alone won't sort out your attitude, you need guidance, a firm hand to reward you when you do what he wants. "You were such a strong boy for daddy, is my boy ready for a reward?" There's a lilt in his voice, sweet like honey, words whispered against your quivering lips.

Your mind's swimming already, you don't get why your getting hard from him calling himself that but you are, pain and pleasure erasing most of the sense in your head. "Yes, sir."

Price beams at you, "That's my boy," He gives you a quick peck on the lips, smirking when you lean in to chase after him seemingly absentmindedly. "Trust me, yeah?"

You nod your head and don't fight against him when he carefully pushes you down between his spread thighs, your arms untied and laying limp at your sides. He cards his fingers through your hair as you rest your head against thigh, letting you breathe and recover from your punishment as he slowly unzips his trousers, his far cock springing up like a flagpole.

You feel your throat go dry as you look at it, eyes flickering up to peer at him. "Easy there," Price chuckles, sensing your hesitation, voice going soft and loving as he cards his fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp. "Let daddy guide you, yeah?"

You push out a "Yes, sir," and let him pull you by your hair until his tip is pressed against your lips. Your tongue darts out to lick at the small bead of precum, the salty taste and musky scent turning your brain just a bit foggy, your mouth opening when he tugs you closer to wrap your lips around his crown.

"There you go," Price lets out a pleased groan, shifting his leg until the fine material of his suit leg is pressed against your own aching cock, the muffled moan you let out making vibrations tease his sensitive skin. "You can hump against me all you want," Slowly he pushes you down just a few more inches, resisting to push you down to the balls despite how his patience strains from the feeling of your hot mouth. "Go on, give it a try son."

Your eyes fluttering shut you brace against your floor and grind down. God, you feel like a fucking dog humping his leg, but the soft silk feels like heaven against your flesh, low little moans forming in your throat with every buck of your hips. He moves his leg along with your movement, giving you a more stable thing to grind on, a shit eating grin on his features at the way you look so pathetic.

"Good boy, good boy." Price sighs, thighs closing as pleasure slowly crawls up his spine, pinning your head between plush muscle and fat. It makes breathing difficult, but something primal is set off in your brain when oxygen becomes a precious resource, drool staining your chin as you attempt to take more down your throat. "You're doing so good, you look so handsome like that," Price's praise is the cherry on top, making any thoughts of rebellion a distant memory, "You can more, can't you? Go on, take all daddy gives you."

You don't know how long it takes before your nose is buried in the wild bush of brown curls around his cock, your lips stretched wide around his fat cock, desperately trying not to choke when he's half-way down your throat "You're a natural at this son." He praises you, pressing his leg firmly against your aching erection as you hump him, messily trying to suck him off when the threat of orgasm hangs overhead.

You're sloppy and inexperienced, but Price can't help but think of how well he'll be able to train you when you submit so easily to his praise and gentle dominance, eager, so eager, for him. "Fuck, I'm close lad," He warns as you swallow around him, your precum having created a large wet spot against in his pant leg. "Just a bit more, you can swallow right? Be good for daddy."

You nod your head as best you can, your hands gripping his thighs for dear life as you suck on his hard length, your tongue playing with his slit and the prominent veins, but the thing that drives him over the edge is the fucked out look in your eyes when you look up at him—

He holds your head firmly to his crotch, his hips bucking once, twice, three times before he finally cums, thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat. You gag, struggling to swallow all his spend, cum and spit drooling down your chin and throat. Price pulls you off and you gasp for breath, sputtering and coughing, lungs wheezing to catch air. He strokes your hair as you calm down, low saccharine voice muttering praises just for your ears.

Then Price's eyes go down to your still hard cock that's resting against his pant leg, so red and irritated, twitching and large drops of pre trickling from your cumhole. But you hadn't cummed yet.

A pleased smile stretches across his features. "You did wonderfully," He says. It does his heart in knowing you hadn't cum, that you can't cum without his permission. He leans down just enough to grip your hard cock in his rough hand, thumb pressed flush against your head. "How about daddy shows you how to use this properly, hmm?" He asks, swallowing your unabashed moans in a kiss.

And you, dumb animal that you are, can't do anything but submit.

thinking about price in a suit n shit n its tailored to his body n it strains against his broad body n ur stuffed between his thick meaty thighs, slobbering over his fat cock that's nursed down your throat and his voice is low and heavy, praising you n calling you 'my boy' and just bein a gentle dom hmmmmgngbgbgnf

[beloveds-embrace]

I don't know if you've done something like this before but dukedom with a florist/botanist reader

The scent of fresh lavender and damp earth clung to your fingertips as you arranged the last bouquet of the morning, tying it off with a delicate ribbon. The small flower shop you owned, nestled near the outskirts of Duke Price’s grand estate, was quiet save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

You often supplied flowers for the manor- centerpieces for dinners, fresh herbs for the kitchen, roses for the gardens- but you had never once met the Duke himself. You had not met much of his household, either, though that wasn’t too surprising; there must be at the very least a hundred workers there.

But fate had other plans for you.

The bell above your shop door chimed, and you turned, expecting one of your usual customers. Instead, a broad-shouldered man strolled in, his sleeves rolled up as if he had just left a heated kitchen.

“Ah, finally found ye,” he said, his accent thick with a lilt. “Was beginnin’ to think this place was a myth.”

You blinked, setting down your shears. “Can I help you, sir?”

He grinned. “Johnny MacTavish. I run the kitchen over at Price Manor.” He leaned on the counter, glancing around at the hanging bundles of herbs and freshly cut flowers. “Kyle- that’s the head butler- told me you’ve got the best lavender around. I need some for a honey cake I’m makin’, and we’re runnin’ short.”

You hummed, already moving toward the drying racks. “You’re in luck, then. Just harvested some fresh stalks this morning.”

As you carefully wrapped the bundle for him, Johnny watched you with a curious expression. “Never seen ye ‘round the manor,” he remarked. Then gave you a grin. “But I seen ye pretty flowers ‘round often.”

“I usually deliver when you’re busy in the kitchen, I assume,” you said, handing him the wrapped herbs with a soft smile. “Though I’ve heard of you. Your bread is very popular.”

He grin widened, pleased. “Aye, I do my best.” He took the bundle, fingers brushing yours briefly. “Might have to find excuses to come by more often. You’re far more charmin’ than the usual market vendors, lass.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I imagine you say that to all the merchants.”

“Only the ones worth complimentin’.” He quipped, winking before heading out the door.

And just like that, your first thread into their world had been woven.

A week later, you found yourself face-to-face with the Kyle Garrick, the Duke’s head butler, standing at your shop’s doorstep in the early morning light.

“Apologies for calling on you so early,” he said, tone smooth and professional, eyes warm enough to replace the sun. “His Grace is hosting a dinner, and we’re in need of arrangements.”

You nodded, ushering him inside. “Of course. Any particular requests?”

Kyle glanced over the selection of flowers, thoughtful. “Something warm. Rich colors- autumnal, perhaps?”

You set to work, carefully selecting blooms that matched his vision, all the while feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

“You work quickly,” he observed, amusement and approval in his voice. “These will look wonderful when they will be used, I have no doubt.”

You glanced up, catching the small smile on his lips. “Years of practice.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, arms folding over his chest. “Johnny was right. You’ve got a charm about you.”

You raised a brow, finished with the arrangement; of course, this was simply to show him what you’d be making in hoards for the dinner. One arrangement was most definitely not enough. “Are you two always this flattering?”

Kyle smirked. “Only when it’s deserved.”

“He said the same thing!”

They weren’t the only ones you ended up interacting with; you had heard of Duke Simon Riley before. A man as mysterious as he was respected. Some said he was cold. Others said he was simply a man who valued silence over frivolous conversation. But all agreed that he and Duke Price were close friends.

So when he stepped into your shop one evening, his imposing frame half-shadowed by the setting sun, you were caught off guard.

“You’re her, then.” He said without much preamble.

You frowned, the little flower pot in your hands held carefully. “I… beg your pardon?”

“The florist.” He glanced around the shop, his expression unreadable beneath the mask of neutrality he wore so well like a lot of other nobles- though in your opinion, no one did it quite as well as him. “You’ve made quite the impression.”

Setting the pot down, you fingers tightened slightly around the stem of its rose. “I wasn’t aware I was being … observed. Forgive me for the use of such a word, sir, but-“

His gaze flicked back to yours, and he shook his head. “No apologies are needed. I understand, but… we notice things. Especially things worth noticing.”

We?

A beat of silence passed before he finally moved closer, picking up a baby’s-breath from a basket. His fingers, surprisingly gentle, brushed over the little flowers.

“They say flowers speak in their own language,” he murmured. “What would this one say?”

You swallowed, carefully choosing your words. “Baby’s breath represents sincerity and- and everlasting love, sir.”

Simon hummed, tucking the sprig into his coat pocket. “…Fitting. I shall return soon.”

And just like that, he was gone- even before you could tell him he would always be welcome (even if he was so strange).

And at last, you met Duke Price himself.

Deliveries to the manor were routine, but you never expected to meet the Duke himself. That changed one crisp afternoon when you arrived with your arms full of flowers, only to find the man himself standing at the doorway.

He was an imposing figure- broad shoulders, sharp blue eyes, and a well-tended-to beard flecked with gray. But when he smiled, it was warm, not intimidating.

“You’re the florist, then.” He mused, looking over the bouquet, unintentionally reminding you of Duke Riley’s words.

You managed a curtsy, despite your hands being full. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Beautiful work,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him inside. “Kyle, Johnny, and Simon have spoken highly of you.”

You hesitated, surprise blooming on your face. “They… have?”

He let out a deep chuckle. “Indeed. Said you’re clever with flowers. And sharp with words.”

Embarrassment crept up your neck. “I didn’t realize I had an audience.”

Price halted mid-step, turning to face you fully. His sharp blue eyes met yours, steady and intent.

“You have one now.”

There was something in his gaze- something deep, and it sent a quiet thrill through you, like the first whisper of a storm on the horizon.

(That first whisper, you’d eventually learn, would be their starting attempts of courting you).

[yanderecrazysie]

A Dragon's Hoard Part 2 (Yandere Malleus)

Title: A Dragon’s Hoard (Part 2)

Pairings: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Reader

AU: My Fantasy AU

WARNINGS: yandere themes, dead bodies

Part 1: here

You woke unsure of how long you had been asleep. There was no sunlight in your eyes, like there always was back in the fae kingdom. Deep inside a cave, you couldn’t tell if it was still night or a new day.

Deciding to check for yourself, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up. You still wore what you were wearing the night before- a fairly long, strapless dress made of palm leaves and woven flats. 

In any other cave, you would probably be shivering, your bare arms and ankles exposed to the air. However, the green crystals jutting out of the stone walls seemed to cast not only light but warmth as well.

At first, when you padded out of the alcove and into the main cave, you couldn’t see Malleus. His throne was empty and the piles of gold and gemstones remained untouched. Then, you spotted him, walking towards you with silent footsteps around the corner. 

“Did you sleep well?” the dragon asked you, coming to a stop a few feet away from you.

You nodded, ‘Yes. Um… what time is it?”

“The sun is high in the sky,” Malleus said with an amused smile, “You slept long. I wouldn’t expect anything else, after such a long journey.”

You nodded again, unsure of what to say.

Malleus lifted a black-gloved hand and motioned for you to follow him, “Come. I have prepared a meal for you.”

Knowing dragons were meat eaters, you were apprehensive to see what kind of meal he had prepared for you. Fae were all vegetarians, after all. He led you deeper into the cave and turned into a dark alcove.

In this “room” was a long table with chairs pulled close. There were no crystals on the wall, but there was a crystal standing straight up straight and tall as the tables centerpiece, casting a candlelight-like glow on the room.

At the foot of the table was a gold plate, a gold goblet with rubies encrusted in its carved pattern, and silver silverware. Upon the plate was a variety of fresh fruits and nuts, cozily placed in the crook of a lopsided loaf of bread. 

You could smell the fruit and warm bread from where you were standing and your mouth began to water. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were before seeing this delicious meal set out for you.

“I trust this will suffice?” Malleus asked. When you eagerly nodded, he continued, “I am unfamiliar with the needs of fae, so I will need you to correct me when necessary. However, I have studied all of the species in Wonderland, and know the basics of how to care for you.”

The statement seemed a little foreboding, but you were very thankful for the meal. “It’s perfect, thank you,” you said.

You pulled the chair from the table. There were carvings on the back of it, shapes of dragons in the clouds sticking out to you with great detail. The cushion was velvet-covered and cushy. Taking a seat, you tucked into your meal, biting into a juicy strawberry that spurted juices into your mouth and against your lips, turning them red.

Malleus watched you eat with an unwavering gaze, studying you in fascination as you chowed down on the meal as though it would be your last. Your teeth tore chunks of bread a little too large to be polite. Your wings fluttered in discomfort under Malleus’s stare, but you couldn’t care enough to slow down.

You finished with the nuts, cracking open their shells with the silver knife. As soon as you’d finished, Malleus began to speak, “Tell me, little fae, what brought you to break King Riddle’s rules? Not many fae are able to stand up to the king.”

You hesitated to answer, but finally settled on a safe response, “I didn’t agree with his asinine rules. The Great Ones may have all come up with rules for their descendants, but none set as many as the Queen of Hearts… They’re suffocating. All I wanted was a little freedom.”

Malleus tilted his head, “Freedom,” he echoed, “A noble choice, yet dangerous for a fae.”

You lowered your eyes, feeling the sting of tears in them. It was hard to believe you could never return to your little cottage in the confines of King Riddle’s castle. 

“That’s why I came here,” you said softly, “I thought I could find freedom on my own.”

Malleus chuckled softly, “Freedom is so delicate… oftentimes it is just an illusion.” You felt a little uncomfortable, especially as he continued, “Fear not, you are free from the fae court here. I protect what is mine.”

You met his emerald gaze, “What if I want to leave one day?”

Malleus’s expression froze and tightened. His features grew hard as he said in a deep and rumbling voice, “We shall cross that bridge when it comes to it, little fae.” Then, a smile graced his lips, “I believe that you will find there is no reason to leave soon enough.

The mark on the back of your hand pulsed faintly, as if agreeing with his words. You clenched that hand into a fist and looked down at the dragon carved into your skin.

“I have something to show you,” Malleus said, “A part of my hoard I believe you will find interesting.”

You pushed your chair out and stood up. Malleus was quick to push the chair back in its place and motioned, once again, for you to follow him. He led you even deeper into the cave, passing several alcoves on the way. This passage opened into a small cavern, the sheer amount of green, pulsing crystals causing a warmth that was almost uncomfortable.

As soon as you saw its contents, you screamed.

Skeletons piled high, along with rotting corpses. Whether there was nothing left on the bone, or just a scalp of dead hair or melting faces, they all still had clothing adorning their figures that told stories of what they once had been. 

One skeleton’s bottom half looked like fish bones and another had a spine that curled way too long, coiled over itself like a snake’s tail. Some wore black gothic dresses, reminiscent of vampires, while others wore leather like were-creatures. There were even one or two wearing dragon scales, like Malleus’s black-scaled cloak. None wore fae clothing.

“What is this place?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Malleus smiled and, in the bright glow of the green crystals, his face was lit up in a terrifying way, “This is the most precious part of my hoard. Treasures I’ve gathered over centuries.”

You were going to throw up. You clapped a hand over your mouth and began backing out of the cave, fear pulsing in your chest.

Malleus chuckled, “But these are mere trinkets compared to the treasure I’ve just added to my collection.”

His eyes looked at you with meaning and you let out a squeak of horror. You turned and ran, your wings fluttering madly, too stressed to actually take you off the ground. 

The cave twisted and turned. You could not sense the entrance anywhere, but still, you ran, terror speeding up your legs and filling your muscles with adrenaline. Tears spilled down your cheeks and strange little hiccups left your mouth.

Was he following you? You glanced back and could not see him. While looking back, you rammed your shoulder into a sharp turn and let out a squeal of pain. Stumbling slightly and holding your throbbing shoulder, you desperately looked for the exit.

Finally, as you rounded a corner, you realized you could see a light that wasn’t green. You sprinted out onto the ledge and crouched down. Your wings steadied and you took flight with a leap into the air. 

Suddenly, as if an invisible rope had wrapped itself around your hand, you cried out as a tightening feeling squashed your hand, the dragon on the back of your hand glowing with a green fire.

You were forcibly tugged backward so roughly that your wings folded in front of you and you plunged backwards back into the cave, hitting the stone wall so hard that you heard a crunch as one of your wings was caught between your back and the cave.

You slid down the wall and laid on the ground, panting from effort and terror. Your spine ached, your left wing was slightly bent, and the back of your head throbbed from where it hit the wall.

Malleus walked around the corner and into the sunlight, the scales on his cloak shimmering in the light. He walked over to your crumpled form and crouched down, petting your braided hair with a soft sigh.

“Do not fear,” he murmured, his voice soothing, “I will keep you safe. If you do not leave, you will never know hunger, pain, or loneliness ever again.”

You let out a sob and Malleus’s smile grew a little. “Why?” you asked him brokenly.

“You are the most precious addition to my hoard. More precious than gold or jewels…

…How could I ever let you go?”

[vodika-vibes]

hey vodika, i saw in one of your posts you say your were like a request-hoarding dragon, and that got me thinking about clones and dragons and down a rabbit hole i went.

sooo I was wondering if you could do a dragon au with the delta squad featuring reader? dealer's choice on if the reader is the dragon or if its one (or all) of delta squad. thankssss so much!

Happy Accidents

Summary: Spending your life as the most important treasure of a Dragon was not how you expected your life to go, but honestly? You have no complaints.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x F!Reader, background Delta Squad x F!Reader

Word Count: 1477

Warnings: The reader was kidnapped, some suggestive hints at the very end

A/N: Sorry if this isn't the greatest, I slept so poorly last night that I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open. But I hope you like it anyway.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Nearly a year ago, you were stolen from the royal palace by a massive dragon. He carried you far from the city you called home, and stashed you away in an even larger palace. Locking you away in a room until the tribute, that the King and Queen elected to not pay, was delivered.

Upon which time, he promised, you would be returned to your people, alive and unharmed.

There was just one, tiny, problem with this plan.

You’re not the Princess.

Hell, you’re not even nobility.

You’re a maid at the royal palace. A rather low ranking maid at that, due to your age and your parents social status.

You’re the daughter of a pair of farmers. The youngest daughter, even, and not even entitled to a single cow as your inheritance. You might receive a cat, when your parents pass on. But even that isn’t guaranteed.

When you admitted that to Boss, the dragon, he didn’t believe you. After all, the uniform you wear is made of nice material—so as to not embarrass Her Highness—so, naturally, you must be lying.

Only, as time goes on, and the tribute continues to not get paid, he starts to accept that, perhaps, he made a mistake when he grabbed you.

In truth, you don’t mind it.

Boss, and his brothers, live in a massive palace. Sure, it’s hidden deep in the mountains, and there aren’t many people to talk to, but it’s probably the nicest building you’ve ever been in.

Plus, you get to poke through the treasure room whenever you want. Though, mostly, you just organize the treasure by size, style, and cost.

You’re well fed, and well taken care of. Granted three meals a day, as many snacks as you want—so long as you cook it—and a whole bedroom all to yourself. You even have clean, well-fitting clothing.

And you don’t have to worry about being stepped on, because the brothers all polymorph themselves into humans to both fit in the palace and to not be a threat to you.

Honestly, they’re kinder to you than your own brothers are.

Today is the official anniversary of the day that Boss kidnapped you, and a part of you thinks that you should do something to celebrate the day. But another part points out, logically, that celebrating the day you were kidnapped it kind of weird.

So, instead, you’re sitting on a massive cushion in the treasure room, entertaining yourself by sorting a pile of uncut gems. Some of them are massive, and would make amazing centerpieces if they were cleaned and polished a little.

You’re so engrossed in your self-imposed task, that you don’t hear the door opening or hear the man approaching, until he places his hand on top of your head.

“I figured I’d find you in here,”

You tilt your head back and grin up at Boss, “I like it in here. There’s so much to do.”

He huffs out an amused laugh, “Are you sure that you’re not a dragon yourself?”

“Mm, pretty sure.” You shift to the side and pat the cushion next to you, “There’s nothing special about me, really.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Boss folds his legs and sits next to you, “What are you working on?”

You hold up the uncut gem that you’ve been admiring. It’s large enough that you need both hands to carry it, “I was thinking, if this was polished and cut, it would make a nice centerpiece for the dining room table.”

“If you want a new centerpiece for the dining room, I’ll go and get you a new one. You don’t have to make something out of this junk.” Boss replies as he takes the stone from your hands and lightly sets it with the rest of the uncut gems.

“Oh, but that’s so wasteful!”

He laughs and reaches out to cup your face with both of his hands, “You do remember that we’re rich, right?”

“That’s your money.” You scrunch up your nose as he squishes your cheeks together. “Boss!”

“You know as well as I do that this place is as much, if not more, yours than mine.” He points out.

“Well, someday you might kick me out.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes at your comment, “Like I’m going to kick you out. Please.”

You pout at him, or try to, “Why were you looking for me, anyway?”

“Hm? Oh, there’s a meteor shower starting in a few hours. Come sit with me.”

“But, it’s still daylight?”

He won’t be discouraged, though, as he effortlessly lifts you into his arms and carries you out of the treasure room and up six flights of stairs, until he gets to his person chambers. And he still doesn’t put you down until he’s settled on a cushion on his massive balcony.

But even then, he only releases you for as long as it takes for him to get comfortable, and then he tugs you onto his lap.

“I’m going to get cold,” You warn him, as you eye the snowy landscape around you. He doesn’t say anything, but you do feel his body heat behind you as he uses his innate magic to warm you.

“Better?”

“Yeah, much.” You shift on his lap and lay your back on his shoulder. “Where are the others?”

“Out.” You feel Boss press his nose against your neck and you shiver slightly, “Sev is buying you some new dressed. Scorch is getting you new jewelry. And Fixer is buying you a library.”

“I don’t need any of that stuff,” You point out as you absently trace his fingers where they’re resting on your lower stomach. And you really don’t. You already have so many dresses that you could wear a new one every day, and you won’t have repeated a single one.

“We’re trying to make this place comfortable for you.” Boss finally says, as his arms tighten around you.

“I mean, it is pretty comfortable already. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in such a nice place before.”

He laughs quietly, his breath warm against your skin, “You misunderstand.” Gently, he turns your head so you’re looking at him, “We want you to stay when we give you the chance to return home.”

“I...really?”

“I know Scorch hasn’t be subtle when it comes to his affection towards you.” Boss says dryly, “Neither has Sev.”

Your face heats slightly, “Well, no. They haven’t. But I didn’t know you and Fixer felt the same way.”

Boss stares at you, “I put you on my lap as often as I can get away with. And Fixer is almost always holding your hand and getting you to read to him. None of us have been subtle.”

“Well, I thought that maybe your people are just affectionate by nature,” You admit.

“We’re affectionate with you.” Boss corrects, “And, after the winter thaw, we’re going to give you the chance to return home, if you want.”

“You are?”

“Clearly they’re not going to pay the tribute, so we have to do something else.” Boss grumbles, “Besides, you deserve to pick.”

Slowly you shake your head, “But you don’t want me to leave.”

“Course not.”

“You could just keep me here. It’s not like I can walk home.” You point out.

Boss lightly bumps his forehead against yours, “We want you to pick us. Not to stay because you have no other choice.”

“Oh.” You’re quiet for a moment, and then you reach up and press your hands against his cheeks, “Well, that’s silly. I don’t want to leave either. This place has become my home.” You pause again, “Well, less this place and more you. And Scorch, Sev, and Fixer. I’ll go where you go. So long as you don’t mind having a human hanging around.”

He stares at you, seemingly stunned, for long enough that you start to get uncomfortable. But before you can say anything, he crashes his lips against yours. It’s your turn to be surprised, but you quickly lean into him and the kiss.

“They’re going to be thrilled,” Boss mumbles against your lips, barely audible even with you sitting on him.

You try to pull back, to catch your breath and to get him to repeat himself, but he doesn’t let you. Instead he flips you so you’re sprawled out on the cushion spread across the balcony and settles himself over you, his lips heavy against yours.

And, as you feel the heavy material of your skirt sliding up your legs as Boss’ hand’s wander across your body, you can’t help but think that this is what you were made for. For loving him and his brothers.

And you can’t help but wonder how angry the others are going to be when they learn that Boss got to have you first.

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@kiss-anon

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

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@clones-cyare

@cc--2224

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@trixie2023

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@wax-birds

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@ct7567329

@thatforlornfeeling

[tales-of-wocdes]

You know It would be funny if all the MC were in a fever dream of Havard or Lexia . Imagine the dragón one be angry because the clumsy fall in his collection .

What do you think?

If I understood correctly, you mean that the MC is just a part of a dream where Havard or Lexia is the dreamer? Then how can MC be mad, they are only a part of a dream?

Or MC is dreaming and Havard and Lexia are a part of the dream? Like MC fears in the demo.

Not sure if I would use the word funny in either case :D I am not sure what is wanted here, so I will just imagine dragon MC being angry at their hoard :D

----------

Your shinies are the best! Everybody should have a hoard. No wait, scratch that, that would mean less shinies for you.

Too bad the princess and knight are gone... Lexia is so shiny. She makes for a great centerpiece to your hoard.

You are just thinking about where you could get more shinies when it happens. You step on a sharp angle of something.. and yelp. More in surprise, not pain. Yet down you go, losing your balance.

You roll down your hoard, and hit the wall...

Then you lay there, and stare up at the roof.

Your hoard tried to kill you! How dare it! Shinies are supposed to be the best! Your instincts tell you so! What is this sharp thing business about!

You jump up and glare at your hoard! Stupid pile of awesome shinies...

You feel tempted to kick it... How do you punish your hoard?

Hah, you have an idea! You find the thing with a sharp angle. It's... you are not sure what it is... You think it is a piece of a chandelier that broke when you and the twins used it as a swing... A happy accident, or so you thought at the time.

Punishment time! You grab the piece.... And place it separate from your hoard. Hah, take that!

That piece will stay there, alone! It will probably be lonely, but it deserves it for stabbing you....

After a bit, you feel bad and dig a hole in your hoard to bury the disobedient piece deep inside.

----

The princess reference context here.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 16: A Night You'll Never Forget

Chapter Word Count: 8,568

TW

1) Alcohol mentions / drinking (nothing outrageous, social drinking) 2) Someone grabs Mouse rough. 3) Idk what else. 4) Mouse has an attitude and I live for every moment of my strong queen

NOTE: Check after Tag List for a list of everyone's call names in this chapter!

Sorry for the late post, I've been busy with work

Master List | Prev | Next

The building that came into view was massive. It was a grand event hall, decorative pilasters lining the front of the building and patio with large floor to ceiling windows. From the outside you could see the extravagant curtains that were half closed. Security was checking every car that came in through the gated entrance, giving orders to each driver to pull up front to let the guests out and where to park to wait. 

Glancing out the window past Jeonghan, you took note of the people speaking on the patio dressed in black and white while others mingling around were wearing everything but. It made more sense for the ‘fillers’ to be dressed differently than the actual members of any organized group. The stark difference made it easy for you to know who to pay attention to and who didn’t matter. The hand that Jeonghan had held the entire ride squeezed against his, taking a breath to settle any nerves that buzzed under your skin. 

“Use the call names.” Seungcheol said as the cars pulled to a stop in front of the buildings and he stepped out. “Mouse, wait until everyone is gathered here.” 

Jeonghan and Joshua stepped out of the car on either side of you and you peered out through the back window to see them exiting the cars, moving to converge near the side of the car you were still in. When each of them was accounted for by Seungcheol, he reached his hand into the car for you to take and you easily slid out of the car. Taking a glance around, they wore a variety of firm expressions, eyes sharp and dark, lips flat. 

With time hidden behind the rest to fix your dress skirt and take Seungcheol’s arm, you schooled your face to the most confident resting bitch face you could muster. You swore you saw Seungcheol’s stern expression crack for a moment as the corner of his lip lifted but it was quickly dropped and he started to lead the way with you on his arm. 

In the hoard that SVT was, you walked towards the steps and the grip you had on the crook of Seungcheol’s arm tightened but you didn’t falter in your steps or expression. More pairs of eyes than you’ve ever had on you stared, and around you, others took in the group and voices hushed into a whisper. Seungcheol slowed his pace as you lifted a side of your dress and took each step with care as to not trip. No one stopped you when entering into the open front doors of the event hall where more guests conversed. 

A member of the staff asked Cheol for the group name before quickly escorted the thirteen of you towards the two circular tables beside each other with more than enough chairs to accommodate everyone. Both tables had a beautiful centerpiece of black roses and gorgeous red gladiolus flowers, both symbols for power and strength, and had a small card with SVT written on your tables bouquets. 

Taking a glance around, the interior was breathtaking. The cathedral ceilings held a dome with a gorgeous mural painted within it. A chandelier came from the middle of the dome made of crystal and gold metal. Similar, smaller crystal chandeliers lined the ceiling strategically, providing the room with yellow tinted light. From the main entrance, the right wall held the bar area that was stocked high with liquors and beers, some you’ve never even heard before, while the side closer to you held an expansive buffet of food. Many tables lined the room, some with name tags to signify a group while others only held smaller, red rose centerpieces.  

Easily, Seungcheol moved you towards a seat with your back to the wall, standing behind the seat to your left while Jeonghan took a seat to your right. The group divided themselves into the ‘oldest’ and the ‘youngest’ with you being the odd one out at the first table. You released Seungcheol’s arm and scanned the room similar to him, taking in the guests and staff, eyeing everyone dressed in the theme’s monochrome attire.

There were a lot of people, however one head of hair a few tables down from your own really seemed to catch your eye. This person seemed to make eye contact with Seungcheol and started to saunter over. A slicked back style of split-dyed black and white hair was an interesting choice, but if whoever this was had the confidence, you wouldn’t knock it.

“Fashionably late as always, King .” A nasally voice was a bit surprising as he approached, a teasing drawl to his words, and the man beside you scoffed. “And you have a new diamond among you.”

“I didn’t realize we had to be early to a secret gala where the host is always late, Captain. ” The smirk that lifted on Seungcheol’s lips was deadly but it didn’t seem to bother the shorter man. “And this is Mouse . She is who I spoke to you about, regarding our deal .” 

Sharp eyes scanned over your form, looking down at you from the slope of his nose. Much like Seungcheol, he radiated an aura of superiority despite his shorter stature and the smirk that grew on his face only increased the cockiness you could already tell he had. “A mouse amongst predators, what an interesting choice.” 

“Much to my displeasure, I didn’t pick it myself.” You answered and the eyes that roamed your body snapped up to meet your gaze and the light that appeared in his eyes seemed playful, mischievous. 

“They call me Captain ,” He extended a hand and you reached out to take it, returning the firm, curt shake of his hand. “Leader of ATZ. I’ll hopefully introduce you to the others once everyone settles in.” 

“It would be appreciated, thank you.” You released his hand and bowed your head, going to pull your chair out but Seungcheol beat you and let you sit down. 

“I’ll be off then, we can speak more later.” Captain excuse himself and with the same relaxed but powerful stance, he ambled back towards the table he came from. 

Jeonghan stretched his arm over the back of your chair, puffing air from his nose to keep his chuckle quiet. “He seems to be in a good mood today.” 

Seungcheol crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat to observe the mass that filtered to their seats. “He probably thinks that Mouse is a person he can throw to his wolves and see how she fares.” 

“She could do just fine against them.” 

You crossed your legs and clicked your tongue in annoyance. “I can handle myself since I am sitting right between you both and you are talking like I’m not here.” 

“Of course, of course~” Jeonghan moved a few strands of hair off your back and in front of your shoulder, “Sorry, Mouse~”

Joshua took the seat on the other side of their leader, humming at some of the others that took their seats. “SKZ is sat across the way with TXT. I saw the marker for them near the back corner on the other side as well.” He pointed subtly so Seungcheol could follow, you let your eyes move in the direction as well. 

The first table you took note of was a group of eight and sitting quietly. While they held stern faces, most of them seemed so…young. When your eyes moved over to the table beside it, only five men sat but they too looked young to be involved in such business. At two tables further down past the few tables of multicolored dressed guests sat nine elegantly gowned, beautiful women, they looked intimidating but too pretty to not look at. 

Towards the far end that Joshua pointed out was the table for them , four men sat and your heart stopped when one was staring directly at you. His eyes were piercing, looking black from the distance between the two. His build was strong and the way he sat held an air of confidence that rivaled the confidence you pushed outward. Two of the others from his table followed his line of sight and smirked in your direction. 

Quickly you averted your gaze and sucked in a slow, deep breath. “One of them is staring at me.” 

“Avoid them at all costs, Mouse.” Seungcheol’s voice was quiet but held an air of anger that had you worrying. 

With everyone settling into their seats and a hush falling over the masses, the doors in the back of the room opened and a man dressed in a well tailored white tuxedo with a black bowtie stepped forward. His high cheekbones reminded you of Seungkwan’s when he bread-smiles at something. This unknown man, who you were guessing was Psy just by his entrance alone, stood in the middle of the room, microphone in hand, and smiled about the room. 

“Ah! Good evening, ladies, gentlemen, and everyone in between.” Psy's voice was poised but jovial, he radiated an air of respect as all eyes were on him. “Welcome to the third gala of all the powerful groups that run the areas in and around the city. Drink, eat, relax, don’t let petty conflicts and alliances get in the way of the reason I started this event; to have harmony while holding even ground with one another.” 

The words felt like they should be thrown away just based on how the guy was pinning you down with a stare alone. 

“As always if fights are to break out, you and your group will be removed from the event.” That sentence was more full of a hidden threat. “Enjoy tonight, everyone.” 

And he stepped out from the middle of the room towards a table in the back center of the far wall where other men and women sat together. 

It took only a few moments before people started to stand and make their way over to the bar or the buffet tables. Jihoon was first to get up from the second table and stride over towards the buffet with Soonyoung trailing behind him. Those two were bottomless pits…

Seokmin walked over and was ready to scoop you up from your seat, brushing off an annoyed Jeonghan when you took his hand and stood. He placed a hand on your lower back and easily guided you across the room towards the buffet, the steely expression he wore since entering into the building softened the slightest bit for you but Seokmin held firm overall. He helped fill the plate in your hand with whatever you wanted, much easier than having you drop the skirt of your dress to grab the serving utensils. 

“Thank you, Tempest. ” You said his call name teasingly as he escorted you back to your seat, Seungcheol and Jeonghan unmoved since you left the table. Joshua and the others were long gone getting a drink or a plate of food. Seokmin flicked your nose when his back was turned to the room and stuck his tongue out at you. You ever so subtly kicked his shin, a deadly smile plastered across your lips. 

After everyone else in the group had food and a drink in hand (Chan was a dear and got you a smoked old fashioned), the two oldest took their leave for their own drinks and food. You took Seungcheol’s seat for a few minutes, letting Joshua give you a rundown of which groups were where and who to keep an eye out for. 

You learned the one that you were avoiding was MX, or Monsta X, he went down the table of who each of them were; their leader, Shepard , the next was Shark (that one made you roll your eyes), Baron , and Joker. The two members that were missing were Charmer and Nightmare. 

There were a few other groups; Twice, Dreamcatcher (DC), Red Velvet (RV), SF9, GOT7, EXO, and Mamamoo. ATZ, or Ateez as Joshua explained, was allied with Dreamcatcher. Twice and SKZ, or Stray Kids, were in neighboring areas and aligned. Red Velvet, SF9, GOT7, EXO, and Mamamoo were solo groups here but their allies weren’t present at the moment. 

When Seungcheol approached you slid over to your original seat, matching his raised brow with one of your own. “What?” 

“I didn’t say anything.” He sat down. 

“J- Hades was giving me a summary of the groups here. I’m going to have Jester, Watcher, and Omen introduce me to the ones they are close with.” 

Seungcheol nodded along, eating rather silently compared to the rest of the tables. The youngest table had some laughs and snickers thrown about from what you could hear and you kinda wished you were sitting besides one of them instead of the silent group that was the three oldest, Junhui, and Wonwoo. 

When you finished your plate, you grabbed your whiskey glass and stood, saying nothing as you moved towards the other table and sat in an open spot between Chan and Minghao, huffing as the youngest snorted. 

“They’ve barely said a word, haven’t they?” The look on your face as a reply had Chan covering his mouth to laugh and you took a long sip of your drink. 

“Not even Loki . Hades spoke to me about different groups but other than that it was quiet and I wanted to blow my brains out.” That got Minghao to chuckle low. 

“And I know the youngest are friends with the other groups King wants me to meet so I was asking for help.” 

Seungkwan dramatically sighed and gave you a half-hearted glare. “If you insist .” 

“If it’s so much of a hassle, Jester , I can go over to them myself and give an introduction.” 

The idea had Chan and Minghao tensing on either side of you.

“See, that’s what I thought.” You motioned both men to your sides, finishing off your glass and pushing it forward. “Now, one of you hurry, I’m getting antsy.” 

“You’re bossy.” Jihoon’s voice had your eyes snapping up to meet him. He just shoved another fork full of food into his mouth, dark eyes staring you down. 

“Oh I’m sorry, Apollo.” You were going to regret challenging him later. “Care to discuss how you run the drug operations and your clubs? ‘Iron fists’ as Ace says?” 

The look of betrayal on Soonyoung’s face was laughable. 

“And we can’t forget how hangry you get when Fenris doesn’t prepare you ramen exactly how you want it, right?” 

Jihoon’s stare turned into a glare, narrowed eyes studying your hardened expression. “You know I can’t cook-” 

“And I also know Google is free.” 

Seokmin and Vernon looked about ready to pee themselves from holding back their laughter. To match Soonyoung, Jihoon’s face was priceless. 

“Need I say more?” 

“You know, if I met you on the street acting like that, I’d believe you were into some underground business.” Now that? That was a compliment from Jihoon if you ever heard one. “And even worse, you are literally dating one of our bosses.” 

“Nah,” Seokmin spoke up, “from what I heard, Loki hasn’t asked her to be his girlfriend officially yet.” 

“Wait-” Soonyoung looked between you, Jihoon, and Seokmin, eyes wide and full of confusion. “I thought you were dating Tempest .” 

“Oh honey-” Seugnkwan placed a hand on his shoulder, biting his lip to hold back his laughter. 

Mingling started to flow easily thanks to the randoms that filled in the unmarked tables. They approached different tables and asked to dance or to have conversation and while some did engage with them, many didn’t and they were left to their own devices. 

Seungkwan had taken this time to take you towards Ateez’s table, being greeted warmly by a charming man, lithe build with a sharp nose and a child-like smile that lit up his entire face. “Is this the beauty that you’ve been talking about?” His eyes fell upon you, dark eyes curious but the smile never left. 

“Beauty?” The question had Seungkwan brushing you off.

“Her name is Mouse. She is our newest member.”

“ Mouse.” The name sounded so…different coming from someone outside of the group. It didn’t sound wrong per se, it was a weird feeling to have in your chest. “He tells me a lot about you.” 

“Should I be worried about what he says behind my back?”  

“Ah, nonsense~ Only good things. I’m Fennec . Let’s get you introduced to everyone.” 

All but one of the eight member group was present, Captain, seeing as you didn’t see his striking duel colored locks. Fennec started from the oldest and went down the order as their attentions were turned to you. 

“We have Mars, Aries, Angel, Lucifer, Lion, and Gold. Captain is off somewhere else and I don’t want to bother looking for him.” 

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You gave a bow of your head. 

You took a moment to look over the lot of them, seeing the different set of eyes taking you in just as you did them. 

Then your eyes fell on the youngest of ATZ and he was staring wide eyed at you. You scanned his face, but you’d recognize those cheeks anywhere.

“No way…” You gaped, covering your mouth with both hands as your confidence cracked and a smile broke out on your face. “No fucking way…”

“What? What?” Fennec and Seungkwan budded in, both taking interest in the stunned staring contest you were in with the youngest, Gold. 

“I never thought I’d ever see you again.” Stepping into the youngest space, you could see him trying to hold back the smile that threatened his lips. “I’d never forget this face.” 

“It’s good to see you after a long time, Mouse. ” Gold , or you knew him as Jongho, ended up breaking and smiling at you. 

“Last time I saw you, you were about four inches shorter and didn’t have all this muscle on you.”

“Can we please have some explanation?” Mars stepped closer, a glint in his eyes that you were getting too close a little too fast with their youngest. You put some space between the two of you out of courtesy. 

“ Mouse and I were in a foster home together.” Jongho snickered, shaking his head to wipe to grin off his lips the best he could. “She got us in all sorts of trouble.”

“Two years until I was fifteen and he was fourteen.” You hummed. “Who knew calling your foster parents greedy pigs for using the government checks on fancy dinners for themselves could get us both kicked out of their house. Such as shame.” For flare, you added a dramatic sigh.

Both you and Jongho were laughing now, trying to keep your smiling hidden behind a hand. 

“ Mouse, we will have to catch up later.” Jongho hummed, schooling his face. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

Nodding happily, you gave him a small pinch to his cheeks, something you remember he hated , watching his cringe in embarrassment. “I’ll get your number before I leave. Promise.”

There was a moment where Mars continued to stare at you, his gaze hard and analytical, but you paid him no mind, taking another step back from him and Jongho. Your smile dropped and you raised a brow, interest swimming in your gaze. 

“No offense, but is there an issue?” 

Jongho nudged Mars with his elbow and the oldest shook his head. “No, no issue at all.”

“Huh…” Angel spoke up, his deep rumble of a voice had you raising an eyebrow. He had a strong jaw yet such a soft face, it made sense why they called him angel. While his delicate features, his build was firm and broad in the fitted suit. “I can see why Archivist thinks you are intense.” 

That had your jaw dropping . Wonwoo thought you were intense? Nah, that couldn’t be real. He had to be messing with you. 

“He said something about a girl that wiped the floor with him in college. Oh, and that she very much has an attitude.” 

You slow-blinked. “If you will excuse me for one moment.” 

With poised yet brisk steps, you found Wonwoo standing off to the side of the room near the SVT tables alone, sipping a caramel colored drink in his hand. Approaching him was easy, he didn’t pay you much mind as you stood before him eyeing him up and down. 

“ Archivist .” 

“ Mouse.” His flat, brassy voice was quiet against the chatter that filled the room. 

“Quick question.” You locked eyes with him and he didn’t look amused, but then again he didn’t look much past bored. “Why is your waist so thin? Is it for other men to grab?” 

The bored look in his eyes shifted just the slightest bit. 

“Whore-ish if you ask me.” 

“I’m done with this conversation.” He went to walk away but you grabbed his upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“You know, Archivist, someone told me something very interesting.” Wonwoo was glaring at you now, muscles tense under your hand. “ Angel said you had some opinions of me, something about being intense and wiping the floor with you .” You were having too much fun with this information. “Ah, I can’t forget the attitude I have.” 

“Are we done here?” He looked ready to burst a blood vessel. 

“For now.” You released his arm and smirked, knowing you’ve won for the time being. 

Wonwoo walked off and quickly you were whisked away by Chan, nodding his head towards the tables SKZ and TXT occupied across the way. “They are getting annoying. You are my age and they want to have another friend .” 

“Will you get me another drink while we are over here?” 

“Yeah yeah, come on.” 

The first table he stopped at was SKZ, greeting a shorter, stocky man, the suit fitted against his shoulders and arms well. They shook hands, grinning at one another before Chan turned to greet another member. This man was lean, well built but not as thick as the shorter man was, if you were stretching it, he kind of looked like a corgi…an angry corgi… 

“ Odin, this is Mouse. ” Chan looked at you but you didn’t take your eyes off Odin as he nodded. He didn’t look as serious but carried himself tall. “She is our newest addition that King wanted me to introduce to our allies.” 

Odin nodded, standing up from his seat and holding out his hand which you took, returning his firm grasp.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Odin .” 

“You as well, Mouse. King tells me you have quite the personality.” His words were smooth, alluring even, an accent catching your interest, but he was wanting a reaction from you. It was evident by how he leaned in towards you just an inch and not releasing your hand. 

“I’ve heard my reputation surrounds my strong personality. I might have to watch myself going forward.” You gave an innocent smile, feeling him release your hand. “But I think it’s a necessary thing to have in the industry, don’t you think?” 

“Of course. Without it, others can view you as weak and we can’t have that.” 

Something in his tone made you feel a little uneasy but it was effortless to mask it behind your smile. 

“Let me introduce you to the rest.” He motioned towards a cat-like man, his gaze narrowed at you but he half-smiled, half-smirked. “My second in command, Snake . After him is Omen’s friend, Crow. After him is Neptune, Sol, Styx, Nero, and Fox .” 

Just based on their looks alone, it made sense for some of their names. Sol was soft faced but the freckles that dotted his features were evidence that his skin had seen plenty of sun. Fox was the youngest from what you assumed and he looked as if he had a mischievous glint to his eyes. His gaze was intense but he had a secret cunning behind those features. 

“I’m going to introduce her to TXT.” Chan was quick to change the topic, “She’ll be floating around the room tonight.” 

Crow and Chan gave each other a ‘bro’ handshake and directed you towards the table beside them. 

“I thought you’d take all night to introduce her, Omen. ” 

The five men standing at their table were huge , not really broad or muscular like some from SKZ, but they were tall, each closer to Mingyu’s height than anything. Even in your heels you were tiny in comparison. 

“And let you all meet her without one drink down? She’d lose her mind talking to any of you fully sober.” Chan rolled his eyes but slapped the arm of the first one to speak. 

Whoever he was, he was lanky, thick lipped, and fox-like. There was a smokiness to his gaze that reminded you of Jeonghan’s stare. 

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” He easily slid his hands into his pockets, tilting his head as he gazed in your direction. “We are entertaining to say the least, promise.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” You snickered at the interaction. 

“ Pluto is the same age as us, Mouse .” Chan explained flatly, standing more casual and comfortable in the presents of the taller men.

Humming an affirmation, Pluto glanced towards the rest of his group. “And somehow I’m not the leader.” 

“It’s because you would put a bullet through our heads if you were!” Looking to the owner of the new voice, you took in what many would call a ‘traditionally handsome’ face. The man was willowy and his eyes were wide, swirling with a playful nature behind an innocent smile. “ Duke is a lot more reserved than you.” 

“And you whined at the idea of having actual responsibilities.” 

“Thank you, Duck. ” 

“Will you call me by my actual call name, Cannon ?” Duke , or you assumed he was Duke with a small internal chuckle at his nickname, pinned Cannon down with a glare. “Be respectful.” 

“That’s boring, I’m going to drink!” The innocent smile never left Cannon ’s face as he nearly skipped away, linking arms with a pretty woman in blue as he made his way towards the bar. Duke took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Pluto rolled his eyes, standing straight and motioned towards the last two in their group, both clearly zoned in on something else, not paying attention to you and Chan. “These are Scarecrow and Weaver , I’m going to deal with that moron for the night.” 

At their names, they looked over but neither said anything aside from a guarded smile and a nod of acknowledgment. 

From his agreement earlier, Chan led you to the bar once saying your goodbyes to the members of TXT and ordered you another drink. You placed your back to the bar while Chan handled the drinks and took in the surroundings more. 

The filler guests were plentiful, some were dancing, some were chatting and drinking. Guests dressed in black and white were speaking either with the randoms or with others in the same scheme. From what you could tell, they were cordial with one another, you noticed Captain speaking with two women whose backs were turned to you. You assumed they were members of Dreamcatcher seeing as ATZ were allied with the group. 

Seungkwan’s blond hair was noticeable, he was sitting at ATZ’s table with Fennec and Lucifer, all three holding different drinks in their hand, talking animatedly about something. Who you learned was the leader of Twice, thanks to Joshua, was speaking with Odin as they paced the outer walls of the room. Jihoon, Soonyoung, Joshua, and Seokmin were in conversation with the women of Mamamoo. 

There were plenty of places for you to start when you began your pathing around the room. Step number one was to always avoid Monsta X if possible, especially the one weirdo that was trying to look into your soul earlier. Though curious about the full story about why there was tension between SVT and MX, you weren’t going to push your luck tonight. Step two came to just being a fly on the wall, someone visible but invisible at the same time if you could. 

A few tactics popped into your mind. The first was taking one of the members by the arm and asking them to walk with you about the room. It was easy, straightforward, but probably an issue if you were constantly seen around the room with a member of SVT. Another idea was buddying up with a member of ATZ or SKZ, preferably one that was conversable, and do the same thing. Could be good, make some friends in the process (or enemies, who knows, depending on your mood), and the more minds working together could be better. 

The third idea was just trailing around by yourself, meet some people, introduce yourself, make acquaintance with people outside of the allies you now have. Having a woman slapped in the middle of the sausage fest that was SVT could help with their sociability. 

Your very last (and hopefully you don’t have to resort to it) idea was getting approached by one of the random men here and draping yourself over his arm to have him spill any piece of information he knew. Even if they wouldn’t admit it, every single member would be annoyed and against it if you dared to suggest it. You didn’t want to deal with them being pissy for the rest of the night. 

“Here.” Chan broke you from your thoughts, handing you a drink and you took a sip, snorting at the familiar taste.

“Negroni?” 

“I’ve only ever seen you drink classic old people drinks.” 

“ You are the one that got me the smoked old-fashioned.” 

“And you’ve had an old-fashioned at home when drinking with us.” Chan upturned his nose childishly and you had to remember he was an adult . 

“Whatever. If you are going back, tell them I’m walking the floor.”  Rolling your eyes with a smile, you pushed off the bar and began your calculated yet leisurely pace through people. 

The randoms were loud, full of chatter that could be distracting, but many didn’t pay you any mind. Though you had no specific path, you walked with poise, floating through the crowd, eyes landing on nothing in particular. Every so often you’d stop to take a sip of your drink, hoping the momentary pause would catch you anything. 

“SF9 have broadened their horizon by taking over dens .” A hushed voice was heard behind you in the crowd. “They’ve taken over a third of the little guys in their city.” 

You continued on with your relaxed pace, meeting Seokmin’s eye from his conversation he was still in with Mamamoo. He raised a brow at you but you were unbothered, finding another spot near another small gathering of randoms surrounding one of the members of EXO, he looked a little mousy.

“Oh the old member?” His rich, silvery voice drew you into his conversation. “Big shot out in China now, he helped us secure trade with some smugglers over there.” 

“I heard he is married now.” One of the women hanging off his arm spoke up. 

“Ah~ I can’t spill those secrets, you know that.” He gave a laugh. “But if he was married…she is quite pretty if you ask me.” 

You would have laughed if you didn’t start walking again. In the mix of passing around another small group, an arm was linked with yours. 

“Hm, I was right, the necklace looks good with the dress.” The smoky voice of the woman beside you caught you off guard. 

She had an untamed beauty to her, her face was soft but her features were sharp. She held her head high as if looking down to anyone that crossed her path and the vibe she radiated was potent with deadly power. The pinstripe pant-suit she wore only added to the demeanor she exuded, the cinched vest hugged her waistline and the top few buttons of the dress shirt were undone. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said, the necklace looks good with the dress like I thought.” She repeated herself without hesitation, stopping the both of you to gently tap a long, painted nail against the center sapphire, the color nearly matching the color of her dark blue hair. “ Loki was going to get you something so…boring before I designed this. He was right though, blues do look good on you.”

A confused furrow of your brow had her snickering, narrowing her eyes to take you in. 

“Back up-” You took the moment to down the rest of your drink, “You made this?” 

“And plenty of other things for SVT.” She hummed, tapping the precious gem once more. “I do own one of the best jewelry companies worldwide and the dress shop you were in, Mouse .” 

She was close, face only inches from yours, tilting her head to the side, not caring she was invading your personal space. You tried not to let the close proximity bother you. 

“And Hades was a great help. Loki picked out something so elementary, something the old women buy when they have too much money to spend.” There was no attempt on her end to move and part of you was standing whatever ground you had at this moment. “ Hades said you needed something…just as stunning since you were already beautiful.”

That was going to be something you’d talk with both of them about later- 

“Oh, did he now? I’ll have to thank him later. And I should thank you for creating such a stunning piece.”

Something flashed behind her eyes, widening only for a moment before settling back into their narrowed state, a half-smirk was spread on her face. “I can see why they like you.” 

“And I can see why they picked you to make this.” You matched her smirk, watching her step back, giving distance between you. 

“I’ll have to get your number another time. They call me Siren here.” 

You were having too much fun now. “I can see why.” 

She linked her arms with you once more, easily weaving through the mass of bodies. “You’re fun, let’s get you another drink.” 

Siren had been great company overall. You were joined by two more members of her team, Nightshade and Muse , with Fennec and Lucifer from Ateez sliding their way over. They were all so easy to talk to, even more to joke with, and they didn’t make you feel like you were an outsider thankfully. Fennec was a little touchy, leaning close and teasing you much like Siren did, but any slight inclination you were uncomfortable by something, he pulled away. Chan and Seungkwan had wandered over at some point, falling easily into the flow of the conversation. With the alliances, you were able to exchange any information quietly, taking a mental note of anything of interest from the others to tell SVT later. 

Slowly the group you once stood in drifted away for one reason or another, mainly for informal meetings between group members, social breaks, or wanting more food. You had drifted back towards the bar, having finished the only drink you got during your time with Siren. With the bartenders busy, you leaned yourself against the counter to wait your turn, easily drumming your nails against your arm to keep your hand busy. 

A man slid in the empty space beside you, paying him no mind until he spoke up, the slight gruffness catching your ear. “With typical thirteen men constantly around you, I’m surprised they are leaving you alone at such an event.” 

Taking a peek from the corner of your eye, your breath caught in your throat, the drumming of your hand stopping. He had a small face and a tall noise, and – not to be rude – almost beady eyes. His lips were almost in a constant state of purse. You recognized him as one of the men from MX’s table, Shark , not the one that was staring daggers at you, Joker , but one that smirked when he noticed you met their eyes. Whoever he was had rested his back against the bar while you had your front facing the shelves of liquors. 

Turning your attention back towards the bar, you busied yourself with reading the names on the bottles, needing the distraction to avoid any interaction. You were tempted to forgo the drink and walk away. To your luck, a bartender finally got to you, asking what you wanted, and quickly went to work on the Manhattan you ordered. 

“Ignoring someone who is talking to you is quite rude, don’t you think?” He spoke up again and you kept your eyes on the man making your drink but you were trying to hold your tongue, you didn’t want to start shit right now. “Maybe someone needs to teach you manners.” 

That broke the camel's back…

“Maybe someone needs to teach you what uninterested looks like.” The words spilled out, unmoving until the bartender placed your drink before you. 

Easily you grabbed the drink and turned to walk away but a hand grabbed tightly on your upper arm, just under the off the shoulder sleeve. You were half tempted to throw the drink in his face to have him release you. 

“Take your hand off me before I make you take your hand off me.” Your tone was toxic, the threat evident. You turned your head towards him and leveled him with a heavy stare. Mentally you were willing to do anything to get away from him. 

“You should watch your tone, Mouse .” Your nickname sounded disgusting coming from him. His grip tightened enough to really hurt but you clenched your jaw, showing no pain in the glare you focused on him.

If you were stronger, you swore the glass in your hand would have been broken with the grip you had on it. 

Ready to toss your drink on him, another hand came into view, fingers digging harshly into the man’s wrist. The grip he had on your arm faltered and you were able to step away, thankful to see Joshua, but there was still an impression of his fingertips on your skin. Unlike his normal, calm expression, he looked pissed, there was something incredibly murderous in his eyes. Though Shark showed a hint of pain from the death grip Joshua had on his wrist, he smirked and there was something just as lethal in his eyes. 

“I didn’t realize she was spoken for.” The cockiness in his voice was sickening. “It’s good to see you up close after all these years, Hades . You look well! I’ll have to tell Baron you’ve been working out.” The cheery switch in his tone was off putting. 

The air surrounding the three of you was suffocating, thick with a violent fog that you could cut through if you tried. 

“Let him go, he isn’t worth it,” You spoke up, placing your drink on the counter and taking Joshua’s elbow into your hold. It took a few moments of the two sharing whatever silent conversation they were having before Joshua complied, more throwing the other’s arm down when releasing it. 

“Nice leash you have on him, Mouse~” 

With haste, you pulled him away but Joshua didn’t say a word, simply following behind. You needed some air, now, and you walked with him towards the entrance and took a moment on the patio. 

The crisp night air was welcoming, easing the rapid beating of your heart. The alcohol coursing through your system was not helping the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Are you okay?” Joshua finally spoke, the anger still there but he spoke softly. Slowly he reached up and grazed his hand over the red marks on your upper arm. 

“That’s gonna bruise.” You tried to say lightheartedly, grimacing when he deadpanned at you, unamused. “I’m okay, promise. I tried to ignore him then he made a comment so I snarked back, tried to walk away but he grabbed my arm-” 

Your rambling was stopped by Joshua placing a hand on your upper back and you deflated, sighing softly. “I understand, Mouse.” 

“Are you going to tell-” 

“You know I have to.” You sagged even more, leaning into his side tiredly.

“He started it.” It sounded childish to say but it was true, Shark was the one to approach you and speak first. 

“I know, I was across the room and I nearly ran over.” The light tone of Joshua’s quiet chuckle was calming. It reminded you that you were safe now. 

“...I was going to throw my drink on him if he didn’t fuck off.” Joshua laughed louder now, sliding his hand to the small of your back to head back inside. 

“I don’t doubt you on that. It would have been a sight to see and a very interesting conversation to have later.”

The walk back towards the two SVT tables was daunting, you didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if someone like Jihoon or Soonyoung were to save you, even worse, Seungcheol . That sent a shiver down your spine, more than just words would probably be thrown with how much disdain the leader supposedly had for Monsta X. 

Seungcheol was speaking with Captain when you both approached, deep in whatever conversation they were having. Captain had cut the conversation to greet you. 

“Ah, Mouse , Hades ,” He teased, a beaming smile meeting you. “Seems I will take my leave with the looks on your faces.” 

“Sorry about this, Captain .” Joshua apologized easily but Captain stood and gave Joshua a pat on the shoulder and said a short goodbye to Seungcheol before walking off. 

From his seat, Seungcheol raised a brow to the two of you. “What happened?” 

“ Shark tried to talk with Mouse at the bar and he grabbed her arm when she went to walk away.” At least he was keeping out your comment… 

Seungcheol’s shift in expression had your heart dropping into your stomach. The once casual expression was replaced with one filled with fury, similar to the look Joshua wore when he grabbed Shark to get him off of you. As calm as he could, Seungcheol slowly straightened up in his seat and focused on the bright red impressions on your upper arm. 

There was silence that blanketed you, a thousand and one things were flicking through Seungcheol’s eyes and you didn’t know what to say. Words were caught in your throat and nothing seemed to sound right in your head. 

“You will be staying with me until we leave.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order, and you nodded. “We’ll tell the rest later.” The second part was more addressed to Joshua, feeling his hand drop from your back. 

You pulled out the chair that Captain once occupied and sunk into the seat, feeling ten times more tired than you were earlier. Joshua stayed for another moment before walking off and you let out a sigh, hearing Seungcheol shift in his spot. 

“I thought one of them was watching you better.” He watched you sigh and you tilted your head to see him better. He was angry still but a little guilt ridden. 

“You aren’t perfect, Ch-” You huffed, correcting yourself. Your brain was shutting down. “ King . There are a lot of people and I don’t expect you all to have a sixth sense.” 

“Still-” 

“Still what?” You weren’t in the best mood for his excuses for the rest. “Shit happens, you can’t predict the future. Don’t beat yourself up over it. With how Joker was staring at me like I was food earlier, it was bound to happen whether someone was watching or not. It was a power play, you know it. He probably wanted to test my resolve or my patience.” 

“How are you so calm about this?” The question made you shrug. 

“Would you like it better if I bursted into tears and threw a tantrum?” You asked in retaliation and he rolled his eyes. “Should I be mad that I’m going to be attached to your hip the rest of the night?” 

“That’s not what I meant, Mouse.” His anger was slowly floating away as annoyance came from your stupid comments. 

“I know what I got myself into, King. ” You sat back and drummed your fingers on the table, a smile spreading on your face. “I can hold my own pretty well, I’ve been doing it a majority of my life. You are underestimating me a little, don’t you think?” 

“Maybe I am, Mouse.” He snorted a chuckle, crossing his arms. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a little off put but your reactions.” 

You pouted your lips, “Did I feel close to having a panic attack? Maybe. Did I really wanna throw my drink directly in his face from anger before Hades showed up? Definitely. Would it be worth it? In my heart, yeah.” 

Seungcheol went to speak but you cut him off, “I’ve never seen Hades so mad before, I thought he was going to punch Shark . That would have been amazing to see.”

He gave you a blank stare for a moment but chuckled once more. You were glad to see the tension ebbing away. “Yeah, that would have been a sight.” 

When the evening came to a close, you stuck close to Seungcheol as he said his goodbyes. You were able to tell Siren and Fennec to get your number from Jeonghan and Seungkwan to stay in contact, glad to hopefully have some outside friendships in this other life. Jeonghan had been doing more business things throughout the night and when he found his way back to your side at the end of the night, he was eyeing Seungcheol’s hand around your waist and the slow turning bruise on your upper arm. You took his arm when Cheol let you go, trailing between the members of SVT to get to the cars. 

Much as they did when traveling to the event, the three oldest and you climbed into the car, waiting for everyone to settle into the other vehicles before speeding off. You leaned yourself against Jeonghan’s side and rested your head on his shoulder, tired from the gala. He tucked you under his arm to keep you close, kissing the top of your head. 

“Does either of your three want to tell me what happened?” His voice broke the silence and Joshua stilled beside you. 

“Not it.” You muttered, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“Kihyun got a hold of Mouse, literally.” Seungcheol sighed, “Joshua stopped him.” 

“And you waited to tell me?” He sounded annoyed, his hold on you getting a little tighter, protective. 

“I didn’t need you going off the handle and marching over there like you would have.”  

“March over- I would have kicked his ass!” His outburst had you groaning, leaning away some at the volume in your ear. “Sorry..” 

“Exactly why I didn’t tell anyone . I’ll tell them when we get home, Han.”  

Jeonghan said something under his breath along the lines of ‘ What a joke’ but you reached for his other hand to hold, providing some comfort to the anger he was feeling. You could hear his heart beating faster and his usual cold hands were warmer. 

The rest of the car ride was quiet, not even the radio played to pass the time. You stayed awake the entire trip, just watching out the windshield without your eyes actually focusing on anything specifically. When the gates opened and the house came into view, you were ready to change, take your makeup off, and curl into bed. 

Pulling up in front of the house, Mingyu was sitting on a chair near the front door with Sona standing beside him, his face lighting up now that everyone was home. Jeonghan easily helped you from the car and walked you up the stairs where you gave Mingyu a hug when he stood to head inside, rapid fire asking questions on how it was, if you had fun, and so much more. You whispered a promise to tell more later but you wanted to sit down on the couch for a little while. 

You collapsed onto the furniture tiredly and quickly took your shoes off, curling up beside Mingyu when he sat at your side. One of the throw pillows was grabbed and you hugged it to your chest, waiting for the inevitable of Seungcheol telling everyone what Kihyun did. 

One by one the members came into the house with different levels of energy. Jihoon looked ready to fall asleep while standing. Seungkwan and Vernon were leaning against each other when Seungcheol asked them not to head to their rooms yet. Seokmin had some energy and sat on your other side, stretching his legs out with a groan. Your eyes were closing, feeling Mingyu shift to grab a blanket and toss it over you, not bothered to be your personal cuddle buddy for the moment. He tugged you in close the best he could with his injury and happily held you. 

After hearing the click of the door close, Seungcheol got everyone’s attention. 

“Before anyone throws a fit at what I’m going to say, I’m too tired for it so don’t.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at everyone, specifically at Mingyu and Seokmin. “Tonight was near perfect, we got information, made some business deals thanks to Joshua and Jeonghan, and even got closer with some of the other groups. However, we had one mishap and I’m not blaming anyone in the room.” 

That had a few voicing some confusion. 

“Monsta X has definitely taken an interest in Mouse and-” 

The two beside you both yelled out in even more confusion and you kicked Seokmin with your foot and hit Mingyu on the shoulder, ruining the comfort you were in. 

“ And we will deal with it appropriately.” 

“Are you okay?” Seokmin whispered and you nodded. 

“Who was it?” Seungkwan asked, rubbing his eyes. 

“Kihyun.” The irritation in Jeonghan’s voice was loud and clear.

“That’s it for the night, everyone get some sleep.” Seungcheol dismissed them quickly before anyone could speak further and trudged his way down the hall. Mingyu didn’t let you go, already in a fresh set of pajamas, knowing Jeonghan was going to get things from his room before you went in. 

You don’t remember falling asleep but you did, drifting off to the warmth Mingyu radiated and the snug embrace he kept you in. Some more words were said, you thought you heard Sona say something, then you were lifted from the couch in a strong set of arms. You had woken up briefly when Sona was helping you change but was more or less running on autopilot when she got a shirt over your head and zoned out as she wiped the makeup from your face. 

You felt someone tuck you into bed and the lights flicked off before you were done for the night.

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

Tag List:

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye @gaslysainz @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @vanteel

ATEEZ

Captain: Hongjoong Mars: Seonghwa Aries: Yunho Angel: Yeosang Lucifer: San Lion: Mingi Fennec: Wooyoung Gold: Jongho

Monsta X

Shepard: Shownu Shark: Kihyun Baron: Hyungwon Joker: Jooheon/Joohoney

SKZ

Odin: Chris/ Bang Chan Snake: Minho / Lee Know Crow: Changbin Neptune: Hyunjin Sol: Felix Styx: Han Nero: Seungmin Fox: Jeongin / IN

TXT

Duke: Soobin Pluto: Yeonjun Cannon: Beomgyu Scarecrow: Taehyun Weaver: Kai

Dreamcatcher

Siren: Siyeon Nightshade: Handong Muse: Yoohyun

[glassbxttless]

DISCLAIMER (this is your warning, horny gremlins)

Welcome! To my fanfiction lair (or otherwise known as my fanfiction bottle) where Joseph Quinn’s face makes frequent appearances and none of his characters are safe from my unhinged imagination. Before you dive into the smut, angst, fluff, or whatever combination of chaos these fics contain, please read the following—

AGE RESTRICTION

This content is written by an adult for adults (18+) only. I’m so serious. If you’re a minor, turn around, walk away, and go read about something innocent. Leave the horny nonsense to the adults, m’kay? (If I discover you have been interacting with ANY of my work, you will be blocked. That means ageless blogs too!)

All of my characters featured in my smut fics are 18 or older (truly they’re all in their 20’s or more!)

If you are under 18 and somehow still here, I do not and will never consent to you being here. Shoo.

CONTENT WARNINGS

I tag for major triggers, kinks, and anything else that might make someone clutch their pearls as best as I can. Read the tags! Respect the warnings! If you ignore them and get upset, that’s on you, bestie, not on me.

CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

Expect to see all versions of Joseph Quinn— including but not limited to:

Eddie Munson, my loud metalhead with a heart of gold, zero chill, and a lil too much hair. Emperor Geta, a Roman trainwreck in eyeliner. Eric from A Quiet Place: Day One, a traumatized angel with 1000% of my attention. Billy Knight, my good boy with issues. Sam from Warfare, whose hobbies include being a dad to a golden retriever named Whiskey and being so down bad for his wife it’s disgusting. Michael from Hoard, who I love and cherish so deeply. That’s my man. The love of my life. Tom Grant, the certified loverboy™️. Ralph from Timewasters, my precious baby who likes ducks way too much. And Derwin (D.F.) Grunauer, my very much alive WW2 soldier who carries an immense amount of existential dread (and obsesses over his wife too).

I also dabble in characters played by other actors (Fred Hechinger, Joe Keery, Gwydion Lashlee-Walton, Kit Connor, Will Poulter, etc). You can find the full list linked right here! but let’s be real— if Joseph Quinn looks vaguely like a very tired garbage man or like someone who would kneel at your feet and worship the ground you walk on, I’ve probably written about him.

CHARACTER SLANDER POLICY

Let me make this very clear— this is a Michael (Hoard) safe space. That’s my man. That’s my deeply traumatized and kind-eyed mess of a soulmate. I would lay down my life for him. I would fight in the trenches for him. I would lose my mind in a Waffle House parking lot for him.

So if you feel the urge to waltz into my inbox to insult him, criticize me for loving him, or suggest he’s not worthy of the soft love, forehead kisses, or the emotionally stable domestic life I have to give to him— you can see yourself out. Immediately.

This is my house. You don’t get to walk in here and throw shade at the literal centerpiece of my altar and expect me to smile politely. If you don’t vibe with him, that’s absolutely fine! Scroll on by. But do not slander my boy in my home. I will block you faster than Michael can blink his beautiful, brown, haunted little eyes.

Same goes for any of my beloved disaster men— Eddie, Sam, Geta, Billy, all of them. I write them with care, intention, and sometimes a deeply concerning amount of emotional projection. So be respectful or be gone.

FAIR USE NOTICE

I don’t own any of these characters. I’m just borrowing them to make them kiss, cry, and/or absolutely lose it. These are transformative, nonprofit fanworks created under fair use. No money changes hands. Just me being dramatic about my trauma on the internet for no money at all. Free for you, straight to your device!

DON’T STEAL MY STUFF

Don’t repost, don’t translate without my permission, and for the love of Quinn, don’t feed my fics to AI.

If you’re an adult who respects tags and likes to be ruined emotionally with a side of smut— welcome! If not, close the tab, go hydrate, and rethink your life choices.

[badpersonboogie]

🌙- Dragon Jayce and Scholar Viktor yes yes and yes.

Dragons are not inherently evil, but they were often seen that way due to their tendency to steal. They were possessive creatures, wanting to hoard what they found precious and keep it forever. That included their mates. The greatest dragon courting ritual is to take your intended and keep them within the center of your hoard, fighting off family members and potential suitors, all to show your mate that you treasure them more than anything else. This is common among dragons, but gets lost in translation when a dragon occasionally falls in love with a princess, locking her up in a tower until a brave knight slays them for her hand.

Jayce knew very well that it was dangerous to fall for a human because of their cultural differences. Humans could not possibly understand the possessiveness a dragon could feel, nor would they enjoy it. But Viktor was unlike anything Jayce had ever seen. He didn’t have much interaction with humans, but from the moment he saw him, Jayce knew Viktor was the most beautiful person he’d ever meet. Elegant and gentle, with a melodic accent and fiery eyes. Viktor’s ability to take words off a page and transform them into a work of genius on his desk was the most valuable treasure Jayce had ever seen. Jayce spent hours watching him through a telescope in his tower, memorizing the way those delicate hands flipped through books and the way those eyes would crinkle every time he got an equation right. His Mama told him he should never hoard humans- but she also told him he could have the world’s knowledge if he pleased. Surely, someone with a mind like Viktor’s could be an exception. As long as Jayce treated him well, he could have this person for himself. So he takes the young scholar, keeping him in a spare room with plenty of things to busy himself with. Viktor protests at first, but those protests are halted as he sees all the machines that Jayce has hoarded and created over the years, cluttering every inch of his tower. He quickly turns to confusion, then excitement. Apparently Viktor has been trying to create a self sustaining air filtration system for years, and Jayce managed it with just what he had around him and now Viktor needs to know what else they can accomplish. Jayce is delighted, his inner dragon purring at how quickly the centerpiece of his hoard accepts his place.

Viktor is of course, still miffed about getting kidnapped. But this dragon is so nice- and his tower has so many resources!! Viktor is dependent on rich sponsors to get any sort of materials he needs, whether it be textbooks or machine parts. But Jayce offers it all readily to him, going as far as to fly out during the night and bring Viktor back anything he asks for by the next morning. And besides…Viktor isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to leave unless he gains Jayce’s trust. He doubts anyone will be looking for some scholar from the sumps anyway. He might as well play nice until Jayce slips up and lets him go.

But unlike what Viktor thought, there were knights at the tower within the next week. Viktor, while low in status, was still the Academy’s most promising scholar. Jayce isn’t as surprised as Viktor is, though. He was expecting this. Viktor is very beautiful, as beautiful as a prince. It’s only natural these knights would want such a treasure for themselves. He respects their determination in coming all this way for him, and is thankful that he now has a way to prove his adoration by keeping Viktor safe. Jayce supposes he can offer them a fair fight, in honor of their love for Viktor.

It’s only when the knights proclaim they were sent on a bounty to bring back the Dean’s pupil, does Jayce pause. A bounty??? So they only came here because they were paid to??? But what about Viktor? Why don’t they want him; are they blind? Jayce only spares their lives because Viktor begs him to. But even afterward, he can’t fathom why no one sees how beautiful Viktor is. Sure, people want him for his usefulness, but why does no one want him for just being Viktor??? Jayce has decided he won’t entertain a single one of these knights until someone worthy finally shows up. Viktor doesn’t know how to feel about this. He really doesn’t like being kidnapped, but it feels nice to be wanted just for being himself. Maybe he could get used to this.

(The only suitor that Jayce doesn’t nearly kill is Sky- one because he respects her for genuinely loving Viktor, and two because Viktor would hate him for hurting his friend. She’s also the only one allowed to speak to Viktor as long as she doesn’t enter the hoard.)

...would it be funnier if jayce was oblivious to his own feelings. yeah, i kidnapped this scholar because he's also really pretty but like... i'm admiring him platonically!

viktor gets kidnapped by a dragon-a dragon???!!!!!!!-and when he gets put down in a room filled with so much stuff and when he asks the dragon-the DRAGON???!!!-why he was taken, the dragon excitedly tells him that he's so smart and his hands looks so nice and his hair is such a pretty color and so are his eyes! his eyes are the prettiest eyes he's ever seen. he wants to stare at his face for hours and memorize where his moles are. but this is all like. platonically! platonically! the dragon-THE DRAGON?!!! jayce???!-looks satisfied and while viktor doesn't have experience with relationships or being adored, he's pretty sure this dragon does not like him just platonically

but this is a dragon. a big scaly thing with claws and breathes fire. viktor is not gonna correct a dragon. so he just nods and starts looking at the stuff around the room lkjhlkhlh and i'm cracking up at sky not being allowed to enter the hoard because i'm imagining the room that has the hoard is huge and the hoard is almost a field long so sky has to stand right at the edge of it so she and viktor have to use megaphones to talk to each other!

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[blorbologist]

also fjorjester, treat <3

I think this is my first time writing fjorester? Pure fluff for them <3 Echoes of the Solstice spoilers!

--

Caleb’s tower is swarming with activity: each cat servant shepherds villagers to rooms, or towards the dinning room as they deem appropriate. Fjord notices more: limping dogs and puff-tailed felines, too, cautiously sniffing spectral forms before a tail leads them to rest. 

Usually Jester would be in the middle of it all. The star, the centerpiece, the helm of the ship. Or Fjord would take that space for her, a grave duty he usually relishes for the glimpses of her latest prank. 

They don’t. Is the thing. 

“Fjord,” Jester giggles, prim and pleased and perfect, just perfect in his arms, her own wound around his neck. Tight because she wants them to be, not of any fear he’d drop her. 

(He could, and she’d shriek and laugh and tease him fondly for the stumble. She’s perfect because they can be imperfect. It makes sense. Really. Wildmother’s mercy, he’s a sap. For her.)

(His fiancée.)

He lost what she said in the silence as he kicked the door shut behind them. Caleb’s got some enchantment on their room to coax the chuckle of waves into it. Rasping in his ears, he can almost believe they’re home. 

Fjord clears his throat. Gently places Jester on the bed - gleaming like a pirate’s hoard. More precious than all the treasure the sea has to offer, and just as liable to sweep him off his feet. 

“... What was that?” he mumbles, and her sharp teeth and sharper eyes gleam sweetly with laughter.

“Fjord,” she repeats, drawing him close effortlessly, fingers swimming through his hair. He sighs as she gently untangles knots that the chaos of battle spun. “Momma’s gonna be so upset.”

He flushes - her cool skin feels good, spare hand cradling his cheek. “I - Jessie, was there - something? Was I supposed to ask her first? Or the Gentleman?” Wracking his mind for the customs of Nichodranas - sure he knows how sailors wed pretty well, but Jester’s from more than that. Maybe some sort of dowry, or -?

“No, silly!” She presses an impish kiss to his nose. “In all the best stories there’s supposed to be a ring.”

Oh. Ah. Well! This, this he planned for.

Fjord gently pulls Jester’s hand from his cheek. Takes a moment to admire them - strong, stable hands, quick and artistic and so nearly gone if she was not so clever to match. When he presses a kiss to the knuckles, he feels the cool of the jewelry against his lips, against his tusks.

And then, with a huge grin of his own, he plucks the ring of fire resistance from her finger. Pointedly raises his brows. And slides it where it now belongs.

Jester downright cackles, sending him into wheezing laughter of his own.

Definitely a proposal to write home about.

🎃For my trick or treat ask game! [No longer taking prompts, thank you so much for the fun!] 🎃

[gluttonygirls]

devouring-hive Hoard.

You do your best to try and take slow, sneaking steps through the dark of the cave. Feet landing among coins and precious gems, you feel them shift around your tubby toes as you continued to creep along, heading towards the cave entrance.

When you had been caught by a dragon during your adventures, you thought that was the end of it all. Yet, rather than being destroyed for your trespassing, the enormous beast had seemed overjoyed to finally have a "pet", just like the rest of it's kind. It had happily declared that you were to be the centerpiece of its hoard, and flaunted as the best human in the world.

...Though, you were so small. How would the other members of its kind react to such a puny thing? They'd captured much grander mortals, and humans were so tiny.

And so it had made you eat. Time and again, it would swoop down into the cavern with food in its clutches. More confections than a bakery, more meat than a slaughterhouse, more of a feast than fit for an entire village. Each time, the request was the same.

"Eat or be eaten."

And so you did, tearing off chunks to stuff past your lips, gulping it all down to please your draconic master. It only took a few nights of this treatment, spending every waking moment feasting, for the effects to become obvious.

Your legs thickened up, once the athletic limbs of an adventurer growing thick and cumbersome. Calves grown thicker than your shoulders, with thighs so huge and heavy that they swelled over your knees, pillars of fat that could clog a doorway each. Your hips were just as massive, swelling out to the sides farther than you could spread your arms, with an ass that could have crushed a carriage.

All that food rested in a stomach as big as a hill, a mound of fat that washed over your legs, hanging low enough to brush your shins as it flooded the table ahead of you. Tits the size of the watermelons you ate wobbled with every motion, bust shaking enough to give you the keen sensation of your neck flab jiggling.

Even your arms were huge, biceps slapping against your side rolls whenever you moved them. Thick fingers pushed against your lips, cramming in more food each night, only making you larger. Soon you were dressed in nothing but rags, and even then they could sometimes pinch around your bloated frame.

But that was in the past. Right now, you had a chance to escape, and chance to be free. Smiling wide, happy that the suns rays were about to touch you for the first time in weeks, you-

An enormous, clawed hand emerged from the coins around you, scooping you up. Dangling in their grip like a doughball as the cavern floor zoomed away, you were bounced in the scaly palm until you were facing the ceiling. Peering down at you was a reptilian eye.

"Hmm? Is my pet running? Or are you so hungry for more that you were going to go hunt for more?"

Blinking back tears, you give a shaky nod. Of course you just wanted more, you'd never think of leaving!

The dragon's lips curl into a lizard's grin as it brings you back towards your table. Another breakfast was there, waiting for you. The first of many, many, many more meals today.

[redstainedglasses]

"If I were dating you, you'd always have someone warm to cuddle up to during those cold times. Maybe have someone to help you with that heat, and a hunting partner. Our bounty would be glorious and you would want for nothing, your collection would thrive. You'd never be alone, and I would take care of you as much as you would me. We'd be a family, til the day I become the centerpiece of your hoard."

Send me “If I were dating you” anons

ah..that struck her. Saying what she hadn't come to terms with that she was missing. Thoughts of dreams she'd hush in the quiet hours of the night with determination she'd overcome them on her own. The words made her happy but in a way she wasn't familiar with. A happiness that upset her stomach but in a pleasant way, like she'd swallowed a mouthful of butterflies. It brought a warmth to her cheeks and she let out an airy laugh.

"a family.." she hummed

[the-haven-keepers-collective]

Finally posting my altar/hoard of trinkets and crystals.

Obligatory disclaimer: You don't need trinkets to be valid as a witch or otherkin. These are just things that bring ME joy. I am gushing about them because I enjoy it, and I don't promote the idea that any of this is necessary. It's just a fun bonus. Consider this a little show and tell post.

In order:

- Recent sea flavored stuff, my personal section of my altar dedicated to self-love. (Angled it so the octopus isn't visible bc... I don't want to jumpscare people + not sure if Tumblr would appreciate it.)

- My tarot/Oracle decks (the boxes in the back are just boxes. Cards are one of the things I work with most as a witch! Also don't ask me why Loki's has a bottle cap on it instead of a crystal. They wanted it there, idk man.)

- Black tourmaline, my beloved

- Crystal hoard + Aphrodite's altar in the background lol

- Aphrodite's shell heart because it's so fucking pretty

- My familiar's blue apatite! It looks like dragon scales :D I got one for myself and then they nudged me towards that one so I got two.

- Hades' and Persephone's section of my altar. (and the centerpieces of my altar, a crystal tree + black kyanite which is intensely grounding and I fucking love it + a tree agate sphere to represent the earth)

- Loki's and Apollo's section (Yes, that is Dr. pepper in a condiment container. It's my most regular offering for Loki XD they like the Mt. Dew better tho. Also Apollo's section is just vaguely cute, idk why he just likes it like that. Ignore the leftover spellwork he wanted to help so it's sitting there.)

- The Snake BoxTM is an offering box. It usually has candy in it for Loki. Also the snake box is one of my favorite things I own.

- Vivianite! This deserved its own picture because it's one of my prized possessions. DEATH MENTION TW HERE. It can grow on corpses- human included- in the right conditions! It's not common and I highly doubt that my piece did, lol, BUT I still associate it with death-y energies and wanted it for future work with Hades and Persephone.

[whateverdontatme]

Definitely a wip but since the end of last summer | There's no need to hoard it | I just didn't want to ruin it

Floral centerpiece in a ruin in a backyard | Views from the dinner table | I'm going back to my original idea | The orange rug

I so so so need to up my quality game

[aethersquid]

Because it was a living calamity. Devastation on vast wings. And it will track the treasures in its hoard to the ends of the earth if stolen. A single coin in a sack with a dozen others, undetectable to any mere human, could destroy a city overnight. And now when the dragon destroyed a city of its own volition that could never be proved; it could always be blamed on whichever enemy was most convenient and used to justify a war.

Eventually the decision was made that someone had to put a stop to this. A team — thief, warrior, mage — was assembled to lure the dragon away, and then, in a distant land and surrounded in protective circles, slay it. Of the three only the thief survives today, mainly because her part ended when she retrieved the golden chalice that had been the centerpiece of the dragon's hoard. Nothing is left of the warrior. The dragon's death was even more violent than predicted and her protective armor was ruptured immediately. The mage succumbed to poisoning after foolishly stepping inside the magic circles to assist the warrior, or attempt to anyways. Every year a new team of mages, protectively armored, returns to the spot to renew the circles, but despite their efforts they have begun to leak.

i think that killing a dragon should have catastrophic nuclear-fallout level environmental consequences tbh. their blood should scorch and wither the earth with fire and poison, the toxic fumes released as they decay should choke the land and all nearby living creatures, and the entire landscape where they fell should be transformed into a blighted wasteland where bleached leviathan bones loom upwards out of the ground as a warning that can be seen from miles away, the boundary markers of an exclusion zone.