#all of these are completed fics (except for just one)

[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[rispwr]

my sweet addiction - J.JK - OS (M) teaser

pairings : boss! jk x fem! reader (mentions of hoseok x oc)

sypnosis :Keeping everything professional, despite what happens between you two...in your mind...or so?

contents/warnings : explicit (ion wanna put the smut warnings rn), forbidden relationship, yeah i’ll put the real warnings in the actuall fic.

word count : 500+

genre :corporate au, fluff, smut, boss x employee au

Note : yeah I couldn’t do it. IM BACKKKKK

The boardroom was quiet, save for the occasional shuffling of papers and soft clicking of pens. My eyes were glued to the presentation on the screen in front of me, 

but my mind?

Completely elsewhere. Specifically, on Jungkook. my boss... who sat directly across the table. His dark suit hugged his frame perfectly, every inch of him radiating hotness and dominance. The way he fidgets on his lip piercing with his tounge always left me a little breathless.

 He leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers brushing over his chin thoughtfully as he listened to the current speaker.

god i could watch him all day

I should've been paying attention to the presentation. 

I really should have....

But all I could focus on was him, the way his hair looked so perfectly styled, the subtle flex of his hand as he turned the pages of the report in front of him.

The more I watched him,

the harder it was to stop. My mind began to wander... far from this meeting, far from anything remotely professional.

I imagined us alone, after hours. 

"m-mr. jeon..." my mouth leaves his name as a whimper in between our kiss. "jungkook..." i recalled again hoping to get some kind of verbal response from him. 

"fuck" he hissed under his breath. i could feel he was getting more and more impatient by the way he unbuttons my blouse revealing my bra. 

No one else around.

"the cameras-" i quietly muffled along with a soft giggle "i'm the only one who has access to the cameras, don't worry" he cups my face reassuring me.

His office door locked. 

The weight of his gaze on me, intense and unyielding. My breathing quickened just at the thought of it, at the idea of him pulling me into his arms, his hands exploring every inch of me while he whispered my name in that deep voice of his. 

God, the way he would say my name...

"fuck- y/n!" he grunts as he slaps my ass making me release a whimper "a-ah- kook!-"

Unconsciously, I shifted in my seat, pressing my thighs together as my fantasy deepened (or got worse). His hand would graze my skin, slow and deliberate, his touch sending sparks through my entire body. My heartbeat quickened, warmth flooding through me as my imagination took over me.

And then, to my horror, I let out a small, soft noise.

fuck. what a great way to ruin a meeting y/n l/n. i thought to myself feeling the embarassment flood all over me.

It was quiet, barely audible. But in the dead silence of the boardroom, it might as well have been a shout.

Everyone turned. All eyes were on me, including his. Jungkook's gaze locked on mine, those dark eyes narrowed slightly in concern—or maybe curiosity? His brows furrowed, and before I could stop him, he spoke.

"Ms. L/N... are you alright?"

Panic rushed through me, my heart pounding in my chest. Oh God, oh God. How did I let that slip out? My cheeks burned, a fiery red spreading up my neck as I scrambled for an excuse.

"Oh—yeah," I stammered, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... uh, stubbed my toe." I forced out a laugh, awkward and shaky, praying no one would see through the lie. "It's fine, really."

There was a pause—one that felt like an eternity—but slowly, everyone turned back to the meeting, attention shifting away from me. Everyone, except Jungkook

Taglist : ??? Com to joinn

[jessilynallendilla]

DANNY PHANTOM FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DPXDC soon

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to recommend any

A Snapping Sound  T 140,368 

"You're new Sam, so you don't know. This will be the only warning you get. Don't trust your eyes or you'll be tricked. Nobody in Amity is who they seem. Nobody." 

Phantom Of Truth  T 58,396 SERIES 

Locked away in a secret government lab with Phantom as her sole object of study, nothing stands between Maddie and the truth... except, perhaps, herself. 

Paranormal Activity VII  T 58,400 SERIES 

What if all those horror pictures and little mental health headcanons the Phandom loves got wrapped up into our favorite ghost kid? What if the ghosts weren't glowing green blobs, but instead the stuff of nightmares every horror movie warned you about? What if the "Scary Eyes" weren't the only sign Danny was angry? 

Little Lion King  T 

A ghost king AU where Danny is an all-powerful ruler/ beloved king and hero who is terrified that his people would hate him if they found out he was a halfa. 

Just Fourteen  T 65,252 

Danny Fenton is an average high school student whose biggest worry is getting the grades needed to become an astronaut. That is, until his friend Sam convinces him to step inside his parents' broken ghost portal...Covers Danny's time at Casper High before the accident and the month afterwards. 

Mortified  T 703,484 SERIES 

Danny had actually been looking forward to Casper High's ghost safety assembly, but, between a ghost attack and his parents' newest weapon, things go wrong very quickly. Now Danny will have to fight not only ghosts and hunters but his own instincts to get everyone back home safely. If at all. 

Overshadowed  T 142,362 

Danny Fenton’s managed to make it to adulthood. Erm…young adulthood? Now, in his sophomore year at Minnesota State, his life almost looks normal. Painfully, mind-numbingly normal. It’s not that he misses life-threatening assaults every minute of the day, but after leaving Amity Park behind, it’s almost like he’s left his past behind too. His old classmates, his family, his friends—none of them quite remember the myriad of paranormal perils they stopped together, and none of them remember that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom are one and the same. But when a new threat—or rather, an old one—comes back to haunt him, Danny just might have to bring his two worlds together once again. 

Below Is Silent  T 1,095 

As he feels the freezing air on him, crashing with his own gelid flesh. He thinks. As he thinks, he senses. He fights, a bit of pain dotted here, and a bit here. Up above the wind stops, and goes around the town he calls his own. 

What Was Bound, What Was Loosed  G SERIES 

The young king slept for most of the first week of his reign. He did not seek his bedchambers, though they existed, and in a room not too far from the throne room. But he stayed in his throne, sleeping fitfully, and rising only to weep or shout or scream at nightmares. It was a good omen. Pariah had not been so peaceful. 

One Another  G 1,282 SERIES 

The Zone holds more than just ghosts, and Clockwork can't wait to see what Danny will become. 

Something's Wrong With Danny Fenton Vol. I  M 55,065 SERIES 

A No One Knows AU where Danny transfers from a different school to Casper during Junior year and ends up befriending Sam and Tucker.   

Schrödinger’s Boy  G 1,610 

At first glance, it looked like a boy. A cute boy in fact. Short compared to her tall. Pale skin in contrast to her deep dark, straight black hair opposed to curly blond. Baby blue opposing forest green. But then, the closer she looked, the more she noticed what was off. Skin was a little too pale to be considered healthy, and became slightly transparent as she saw more. Hair was wispy and floaty, almost defying gravity, almost flowing like it was under water as its head bounced. Eyes a bit more, sunken, a bit more tired. Worst of all, its heartbeat sounded so, so slow. And now, it was sitting two tables across from her. 

Autonomy And Worse Things  T 48,942 

In a moment of stress, Danny develops a new power, one far too electrically reminiscent of his death. With it, he can play puppeteer: when he speaks, people will listen, and they'll have thought all along the idea was their own. It's a terrifying power—and when Danny fails to control it, his friendships are left shattered in its wake. 

Face To Face  T 293,614 SERIES 

When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s okay now. So why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny, remember a life that isn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? 

Trust Your Instincts  T 208,868 SERIES 

A new kind of danger threatens Amity Park. With no other leads, Maddie Fenton turns to the one individual that might be able to help: Danny Phantom. Meanwhile, after a near death experience, she begins to question everything she knows about ghosts. 

Let's Make A Deal   M 2,509 SERIES 

When Danny dies in the portal accident, Sam and Tucker make a deal to bring their friend back. 

Danny And His Blob Ghosts  T 11,301 

When two blob find and affectionately latch onto Danny, the halfa immediately adopts the small ghosts. But things are not as they seem. With Danny's horrifying recurring nightmares, Vlad Master's ominous behavior, and the blob's strange human-like eyes, keen intelligence, and intense fear of the older half ghost, there might just be a greater connection between Danny and his blobs, one that will shake the boy to his core. 

Do You Know Where Your Children Are?  T 

It's a school night. It's dark outside. It's cold. Green— fog?— has invaded the whole house, and now he has to get his parents to tackle whatever that problem is. ...The only problem is, Danny woke up alone in his bedroom, and he can't seem to find them. Like. Anyone. Anywhere. 

Danny + Phantom  NR 

Wherein Danny is less 'half ghost' than he is 'awkwardly possessed'. 

An Unlikely Alliance  T 15,165 

Maddie just wants her family back. In a desperate attempt to understand her youngest's change in behavior, Maddie unwittingly enlists the help of his enemies to exorcize Phantom from her son. 

Good And Evil  T 3,687 

What is "good"? What is "evil"? Am I "good"? Am I "evil"? The truth is, I don't know anymore. But why am I asking myself this? Let me start from the beginning... 

Crashing And Burning  T 17,150 

For two years, Maddie has put up with Danny's ridiculous lies and excuses. She's tried everything to get through to him, but the pattern just goes on. She's so tired of fighting him on this all the time. And so, after two years, she's done. She doesn't care what her son does anymore, because Danny doesn't seem to care that he's her son. 

Wake Me Up To Say Goodbye  T 23,345 

The morning started like any other: wake up, get dressed, make sure Danny got up for school. It all fell apart when Jack's hand went through his son's apparently not-so-solid body. 

Kintsugi  T 24,141 SERIES 

An injured Danny went to his parents for help as Phantom, only to later wake up as Fenton. With their already dysfunctional family shattered, Danny picks up the broken pieces. 

Snap  T 25,742 

One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed. It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad. 

A Choice In The (Ghostly) Matter  T 26,254 SERIES 

Danny had been having a good year. He finally managed to find at least somewhat of a balance between fending off ghosts and his actual life, or at least a routine that wasn’t actively harming him. But then Clockwork decided to meddle in his life, appearing in his bedroom with some less-than-amazing news. Pariah is fading, and guess who's next in line for the throne?   

Whenever You’re Ready  G 12.720 

Jack and Maddie try to show their son they are very supportive of Phantom once they find out his secret. They want him to tell them on his terms, but everything ends up in bigger misunderstandings and more revelations they weren’t prepared for. 

How You've Changed  T 2,500 

Danny wasn't a ghost, at least, not a ghost pretending to be their child. He was... he was still their child. He was just, wrong. 

Irrefutably Human  G 35,276 

After spending 12 years in the Ghost Zone, Danny decides it’s time to see what the Human World has to offer. He quickly learns that blending in with humans is a lot harder than he thought it’d be… and that just maybe, the elder ghosts had a reason for keeping him in the Zone for so long. 

Run Away, Ghost King  G 

When Pariah Dark's legacy fades and the King Stone calls for Danny Phantom to inherent the crown, only his enemies prefer he remain alive and not the all powerful ruler of the Infinite Realms. His name is whispered among ghosts, reverence and resentment flavoring his deeds, but what use is a crown with a price weighed in blood? To become king, Danny Fenton must die. 

Regulations: Too Little Too Late  T SERIES 

His parents were friends with a weird loner billionaire from the sounds of it, and had never thought to mention it before this trip. Strange, he supposed, but his parents often forgot to do or mention important things. At least no ghosts had shown up this far outside of Amity. Yet. 

Let's Pretend The Fog Has Lifted  T SERIES 

He waits. Time passes. Warmth creeps across his left side in thin stripes. The blinds must be open. Afternoon sunlight kisses his face before slowly moving on. Pipes creak. The house settles. A voice shouts indistinctly outside. It'll be night soon. He considers turning on a lamp but laughs quietly to himself instead. What would be the point? If anything good could be said of his time spent under Freakshow, he's at least learned how to be patient. 

Nodus Tollens  NR 

The realization that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore. 

The Amity Boys  T SERIES 

"Amity Park: A Nice Lie." Skeptic Newcomer Wes Weston and Veteran of the Paranormal Dash Baxter start a radio broadcast to post online to gain insight into Amity Park. Once they hit record, their lives will never be the same. The pair must decipher rumors from folklore and fact from fiction-- exploring a decaying one-stop-light ghost town. Can their friendship survive the living dead, and will Wes ever find the truth behind the mysterious Amity Park Phantom? 

Everything Was White  M SERIES 

After being accidentally revealed to the public and taken away by the government, Danny deals with the aftermath of his time with the GIW. 

Memory Of What May Have Been And Never Will Be  G 3,962 

Valerie Gray from ten years in the future falls through a natural portal, landing in the past. Unable to get home, she decides to do the best thing she can - kill Danny Phantom. 

Hold My Dying Breath  T 

Danny is dead. Danny is dying. Danny is alive. Danny is trying to hold together what bits of his life he can, without putting anyone in danger. Jazz is worried about her baby brother. Sam and Tucker are bitter and mad at their ex-friend. Valerie wants nothing to do with any of this. Dash wandered into this mess and refuses to leave without answers. A circus looms in their near future. 

Cuddle Couch  T 4,418 

Valerie just wanted to buy a new couch to replace the one Cujo tore to shreds. She didn’t know babysitting her boyfriend in a furniture store would prove so difficult. 

Dying (Again)  T 2,630 

Saying Danny was half ghost was frankly a simplification. In truth, he was more ⅞’s ghost. Maybe more, depending on the day. Truthfully, it was a miracle his ectoplasm had kept his human heart beating as long as it had. Or Danny was dying again. This time he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Mother Knows Best  T 5,647 

Pamela Manson knows her role: she is Samantha's mother and that means that it is her duty to protect her daughter from harm. Especially as her own mother seemed to have missed that memo. 

Accidental Child Aquisition  NR 

Danny's got enough on his plate between Ghost King duties, surviving his parents, surviving the GIW, and surviving high school. He could do without the summonings from crazed fruitloops on random Tuesdays when he has things to do. He could definitely do without said fruitloops offering him kids as sacrifices when he finally made it clear he didn't like them offering up blood, animals, or adults. 

Don't Shoot; It's Me! No, The Other Guy!  NR 31,935 

After a botched attempted reveal, Valerie thinks Fenton and Phantom body swapped! And maybe he'd be able to solve this (and the rest of his current issues) if Valerie could stand to leave Fenton with Phantom for long enough for him to solve them; but now they (all three of them, yes) are off to have an adventure in the far frozen. Literally how did he get here? 

Deranged Senses  T 12,953 

Danny’s been doing fine. Sure, he has to focus on keeping himself from shaking, and the voice in his head goading him to hurt has been getting louder, but its fine. He’s got it under control. He’s human more than he is ghost, and he has things to fight for. He can’t afford to give in. He won’t give in. He won't. 

Second Chances And The Days That Follow  T SERIES 

Phantom awakens in his new body, and he is not, per se, house trained. Vlad is devoted to his new purpose, and he's a little bit in over his head. Danny is trying his goddamn best. 

Ghosting  T 

“But as soon as he’s about to move in that direction, a twig snapping nearby has him whirling around with a growl. He doesn’t have the energy to go invisible right now, but that doesn’t stop him from gathering a green glow at his fingertips, ready to blast the first face he sees. He hunches over in a vain attempt to hide or protect his injured side and bares his teeth at the threat. But instead of hunters chasing him down to kill him, out of the woods comes— Sam Manson. Phantom freezes. Oh no.” 

Meet Me In The Woods  T 

When Danny is two years old, his cousin Flynn goes missing and is never found. When Danny is fourteen years old, he notices a blip on the radar that shouldn't be there. 

Mortality Salience  T 4,219 

"The beam sat smugly across his thighs and pressed into his pelvis with a weight that felt like a thousand tonnes. Pain throbbed through him, cutting breaths short and making every movement agony." OR Danny and Valerie get stuck together 

Smells Like Team Spirit  G 3,133 SERIES 

Some mascots are great at pumping up a crowd. As Casper High's mascot, Danny has only one job: strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. This is the story of how Danny becomes the famed Mascot of Fear. 

Speak To Me  G 2,202 

Danny had heard of "dead languages" before, but this was just ridiculous. 

Threads Of Time  T 28,222 

Maddie keeps on waking up to Thursday morning 

The Curious Case Of Danny Fenton   G 15,639 

Wes Weston knows perfectly well that there is something off about Danny Fenton. His brother Kyle doesn't seem to see it, but his brother also doesn't believe in ghosts. 

Boy King  G 2,602 

Danny is heir to the throne of the Ghost King, much to the displeasure of the Observants. He's just trying to survive his senior year. 

Shatter  G 1,836 SERIES 

Danny had just been electrocuted four days ago. But that was okay. Because he was fine. Even if there was this weird pressure in his chest, and his skin didn't feel like his own, and his whole body felt cold and alien, and he kept tripping over his feet. He was fine. He was human. 

A Connoisseur of Fine Art  G 698 SERIES 

Well, you know what they say: One ghost’s toilet is another ghost's treasure. 

Elledritch Horror  NR 1,461 

A mother finds something strange about her daughter. If that's her daughter at all... 

Cloned To Homed  G 26,765 SERIES 

Danny Phantom was a protector, not a hurter, there’s no way he could genuinely have destroyed those clones and maybe the Fenton parents wouldn’t be quite so bothered or quite so surprised by the existence of halfas as Danny once feared. 

Am I Dreaming?  T 1,718 

Sam comes to and realizes she's not quite herself. No matter what anyone says, remember, this is Fenton's Fault. 

The Invisible Crown Of A Child  G 725 SERIES 

Maddie was observant and the Crown Of Fire wasn’t something she was about to miss... even if it’s wearer seemed to have no clue. 

Prince Before King. Genius Before Fool.  G 11,215 

Becoming the prince of ghosts isn’t in Danny’s weekend plans, but it doesn’t look like he has a choice in the matter. (Or does he?) 

Revelations  T 4,118 

Death is a joke, a walking comedy, and Danny Fenton had always been a comedian.  Monologues, acidic blood, a little girl that looked his spitting image, and bones.   

Second Chances  T 3,982 

The students and faculty of Casper High mourned the tragic death of Daniel Fenton. Gone too soon thanks to the negligence of his parents. That was what everyone thought until the next Monday morning when Danny came strolling into school like nothing had ever happened. 

Halfa Whole  G 484 

Somehow, he just knew, right down to his core, that he wasn’t the same thing as Vlad and Danielle. 

The Case Study Of Wes Weston  T 

His face wasn't that memorable. Even after seeing him just that morning, Danny could only conjure up his reddish brown hair and freckle-splattered cheeks, but not much else. At first, it didn’t matter much. Danny didn’t even bother to confirm his name. But after the curious streak dragged on and on, and spiraled into a full on investigation, he learned the name. And now he can’t seem to stop hearing it. ‘Wes Weston asked me for this’, ‘Wes Weston did that last week’, ‘I saw Wes Weston here’, ‘I heard he was there’, ‘Wes is so cool’, ‘I hate that guy’. Suddenly, he’s everywhere. It seems like everyone except Danny knows Wes Weston. And, it seems like Wes Weston knows…everything. 

A Grave Error  T 1,521 

A fluorescent green gaze pierced through him from the rearview mirror. As much as the eye contact sent chills down Dale's spine, he didn't want to look away. Some primal part of his brain was much more comfortable keeping his eyes firmly planted on the predator in the back seat of the police car. 

"Why won't he leave?" Dale whispered to his partner, the woman grit her teeth. 

"I don't know, but I'm not the idiot who decided to fucking arrest him." 

Proximal  T 

There's an old superstition that bad things come in threes. Finding a gravely injured Phantom in her lab, then the realization that no one has seen her son for nearly twenty-four hours... Maddie doesn't want to know what the final nail will be. 

I Feel Guilty But I Can't Feel Ashamed  M 63,915 SERIES 

Fentons were feared. Danny had this impressed on him from both of his parents and even his snobby sister for all of his fourteen years. Despite Danny taking after Maddie with his love of dissecting anything that could scream, Danny was the least evil Fenton to ever evil. Then everything changed when his parents built a very strange machine. 

Down The Rabbit Hole  T 33,586 

Her father might have been a bit eccentric and distancing, her mother fond of ghost studies – especially doing that secretly in her lab without Dad’s consent – but no matter the oddness, Dani loved her parents. But she never could have guessed that her world would turn upside-down once she simply wanted to get away from their exceptional heated debate – in which case, she would end up in a twisted world where nothing was as things were supposed to be: her father had no child, her mother lived with another man, had another family, and… she didn’t exist at all 

The Boy Who Fell Into The Sea  T 34,272 

Thrust into the world of the sea monsters, Danny learns that they aren't so different after all, and finds himself working on a way to bring them both together. Too bad he seemed to be Really Bad At Doing So. 

A Night At The High School  G 15,456 

Ever since the accident two years ago, Danny has had what some people would call luck when it comes to the paranormal. When he heard that Sam wanted to use that "luck" in help with a class assignment, he knew it was a bad idea. It was an absolutely terrible idea. And yet, he was gonna go along with this anyways. 

Emergency Contact  T 

When William Lancer answered the phone that day, little did he know that he would go from an average literature teacher and cat-dad to now the emergency foster parent for a very injured teenage ghost. Life had a funny way of being unpredictable like that 

(We Are) The Fault Line  T 46,616 

A year after the asteroid, a new government agency has arrested Danny on "public endangerment" charges, and they've shown no sign of releasing him any time soon or even allowing any of his loved ones to see him. So, naturally, Sam and Tucker and Valerie and Dani have taken it upon themselves to rescue him. The plan is simple. In order to convince these federally funded goons to give Danny up, they're going to have to offer them something better. Enter Vlad Plasmius. 

Shift  T 22,4415 SERIES 

In which Danny's secret is revealed to the world before he ever steps foot in Amity Park…and before he ever meets Sam or Tucker. 

Weaving Webs M 20,951

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys (If Only That Were True) T 12,483

Danny has enough on his plate as it is, between his kingly duties, the ghosts that have dropped off the map so suddenly that he's starting to worry, and that dang itch - which was beginning to turn into pain - that just won't go away. He doesn't need to deal with this creepy circus and its equally creepy ringmaster. But when he encounters four strange ghosts robbing a jewelry store, and he starts losing time… He realizes that he can't avoid Circus Gothica forever. If only he could say not my circus, not my monkeys and just be done with it.

MISC 

The Crown Of Flame Imperishable  M SERIES 

Danny responds to an elaborate fetch quest across Middle Earth with leeroy jenkins tactics (rushing in knowing nothing) while Fright Knight watches in disbelief that it's working. 

The Phantom Martian  T 

When Astronaut Mark Watney went to Mars, he knew there was a chance he'd never come home. Now, though, he's determined to last long enough for NASA to save him because this whole dying for science thing is not as fun as it sounds. Meanwhile, Danny Fenton is just trying to keep his identity a secret amidst a potential crisis with his powers. Seriously, what's up with that weird current under his skin? Why is he having so much trouble controlling it? And why does it feel so familiar...? In a fit of determination (and possible stupidity), Danny goes to Mars to save Watney, only to add to both their crises when he arrives and can't get home. Will NASA save them? Will Danny have a home to return to if they do? 

Phantom's Fables (A One Shot Collection)  M SERIES 

A collection of story ideas that I lack the motivation to make into full stories at the moment. Will mostly be Danny Phantom crossovers with DC and probably a little bit of Marvel or BNHA. Requests are welcome. Any one-shot series that makes it to five chapters will graduate to it's own fic. 

The Ghost Of Heroes  T 291,238 SERIES 

New York City isn't prepared for a ghostly invasion. The Avengers are finally all in the same place again. Thor and Bruce are back from space with a semi-reformed chaos god and a thousand refugees in tow. Steve and the Rogues have got their pardons and are ready to start being heroes again. But Tony isn't ready trust, neither is his new protegee Spiderman. The fractured team can't seem to come together. It's a good thing then that Danny Phantom is ready to save the day. That doesn't mean anyone is prepared for when he keeps showing up. 

John Doe Identified  M 6,233 SERIES 

Phantom luck strikes again as Danny gets hurt wandering the streets of NYC but he is saved by the most unlikey hero-antihero. Things happen, mistakes are made, identities are revealed, and somehow hearts are slightly mended. 

Dead Heat Rising  M 13,044 

Working a job in Amity Park, Ohio, Sam and Dean Winchester encounter a ghost boy who will change their perspective of those beyond the veil... 

[volivolition]

DAY 4: DRAMA - Put on your prettiest face for the masses!

gonna start adding silly captions actually. [POINTS ACCUSINGLY] MELTY FUCK (AFFECTIONATE)!!

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

hood is the ceo of “other people have it worse” /HJ

[sortanonymous]

Sorta Angry Comics #2 - "Group Trauma-Dump (and Friendship Time! :D)"

Alternate Title - "Angsty Birds"

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Do you have any Zhongli/Zhongchi fic recs? I haven’t found any that are nearly as good as yours 😔😔

funnily enough someone already asked this, but it was quite a while ago and tumblr is a mess to search old shit thru so here, this is the post this was asked during the ao3 crisis of- .......last year? i can't remember. either way, the post starts w me saying i don't have all the names and links but dw, after ao3 came back up i edited the post so you should see all authors and links in the recs.

i have to admit that for reasons unrelated to the fandom i haven't been reading many zhongchi fics as of late? so like- bear in mind i don't have an updated mental picture of any of the recs after the post was made. so if one went off the rails or if one of the WIPs finished, i'm not aware;; i also mention in the post that i'd add more recs if i had access to ao3 (which i didn't at the time bc it was down), and while that is true, it's been so long since i read any of them that i wouldn't be able to confidently reccomend them outside of 'i somewhat remember the plot and i remember liking it'. also i don't remember half of their names. so uh- yeah that's the list i think

[paimonial-rage]

My favorite works in no particular order:

Tipsy Tales (Anemo Boys)

Symbiosis (Ayato)

What Destiny Has Brought (Fischl)

Hello How Are You (Gorou)

Follow the Wind II (Kazuha)

Of the Same Coin (Mika)

Songs of the Wind (Venti)

Nothing Lasts Forever (Yae Miko)

Sharing a Drink They Call Loneliness (Zhongli)

Of Hopes and Prayers (Zhongli)

[sing-me-under]

*stands at the top of a stage with a megaphone *

LET BATMAN HAVE FRIENDS.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I have been making progress on The-Fic-That's-Almost-Done, but, tragically, i've mostly been adding words in places that. don't actively need them. it's still a good thing, mind. i did hope to embellish those spots more. but there are still a few conspicuous holes which. need the words rather more intensely.

though, it does grant the amusing observation that the longer i work on a particular section, the more archaic and formal my language and grammar get. it's likely noticeable to a degree within my text posts, too, (i say while saying shit like "grant the amusing observation" and "noticeable to a degree". fuck, dude, i bet it is.) but it's. particularly funny to see the evolution of my paragraphs, sometimes, from the rough draft to the final (hopefully final) version.

[thsc-confessions]

"I must confess... I have never read a Stickvin fic. Well okay, I have read fics where stickvin was canon, but I have never read where the whole point is stickvin. Well the whole fic anyways, I might read a little bit of it. I'm always scared that it will be one of those bad fics, despite me reading ship fics of other ships..." submitted by @candikin

[centeris2]

eh this is what I get for taking so long to finish a project

(rip that Dark Core Day video project from like two years ago now that has Chiyo's art and voice, which is now outdated, I guess. But that's just how sso is)

[syncogon]

fun fact: miqin mubei, face obscured, is the second named character to appear in the entire show. yes he appears all the way in episode 1

[cantofworms]

.

[conditionaljewel]

An Aria for Imogen - Chapter 2

(Chapter 1)

About a month passed since Imogen and Laudna welcomed baby Aria into the world. Born with misty purple eyes and already showing signs of having similarly colored hair, Aria had been nothing but a blessing for the Temults ever since she arrived. With the nursery prepared for her arrival, and Pate on his best behavior, the first handful of weeks went by like a breeze.

That is not to say that it did not have it’s troubles. While parenthood was a new concept to both of them of course, childbirth did have its impact on Imogen, and left her feeling quite weak for a handful of days thereafter. Laudna did her best to care for Imogen and the baby all at once, and even had the help of Fearne for a few days, after she got antsy and wanted to come meet the baby and shower all of them with gifts. The girls had graciously accepted and welcomed her into their home, and Fearne took to Aria quite quickly, allowing Laudna to help Imogen get back to her full strength.

Ever since the night Imogen had opened her mind and heard Aria’s thoughts for the first time, she had decided she was going to treat her just like she would any other person — by blocking them out, but only once they became coherent. During those first few days and weeks of having Aria, Imogen had taken off her Circlet and allowed her mind to remain open while Aria was feeding. For the first time, Imogen was hearing Laudna’s melodic harmony from wherever she was in the house in conjunction with their daughter’s beautiful, albeit simple vocalizations. There was no words, no ideas or phrases, not even imagery to go off of at first; just an out-of-pitch song of noises that did sound displeasing.

After Imogen and Laudna had discussed the matter, they had agreed that only while Aria was a baby and toddler, and until she could better understand the world and communicate her needs clearly, would Imogen open her mind to Aria’s thoughts. Only if she absolutely needed to — in case of emergency, essentially. These first few months were different, they had reasoned with one another, because while they acknowledged Aria is her own person, judging by these first few days of exploration, she wasn’t yet able to formulate a coherent thought, and so there was not much to grasp onto. Imogen didn’t view it as if she were invading her privacy, which is how she often felt when she would hear others’ thoughts before she discovered the Circlet, and before she learned to control her innate abilities.

As it were, Imogen’s powers had its benefits in helping to raise a baby, as Imogen was able to pick up insight into moments when Aria was crying or being particularly fussy. They both knew that a day would come when Imogen may finally hear something that she didn’t want to, or need to, but until then, and just in Aria’s best interests, she would only listen in when it was absolutely called for, and only until Aria could communicate on her own.

In a matter of just two short weeks, Imogen fully recovered and was back on her feet to her typical extent. They began to welcome a rotation of guests through their door in small groups purely out of happenstance. Fearne stopped by a few more times, including once with Ashton, FCG and FRIDA all in one visit. Chetney and Deanna also made time to travel from Uthodurn to the Heartmoor to meet Aria, with Deanna gifting her a beautiful woven blanket. The border coloring nearly matched Aria’s eyes, and the decorative portrait that had been woven into it featured Pate holding hands with Sashimi in front of their home. Laudna absolutely adored it and thanked Deanna up and down for days for it.

The last visitors, and the most awaited visit as a result, were Orym and Dorian. They had planned it for weeks in advance, because it would be Dorian’s first trip to the Heartmoor, having been unable to join the Bell’s Hells on their first journey here those few years prior. Orym had visited the girls here several times before the baby was born, like most everyone else had been able to in between their everyday lives, but Dorian had become quite busy back home that for a period of time, he found himself unable to leave the Silken Squall if for no other reason than he had simply missed it all that time while he was away.

But now, time finally afforded both men the opportunity and the occasion to make their first joint trip to the girls’ home. With that mindset, Imogen communicated with Orym several times a day discussing plans for their stay. They wouldn’t be able to stay long, so they had decided on two nights in town given the rest of the boys’ itinerary and plans around the region. Orym insisted that he and Dorian would stay at an inn, not wanting to impose on the new moms or the baby, even despite Imogen and Laudna’s insistence that they wouldn’t be imposing and that they had the space.

It was moot, however, as Orym and Dorian’s first stop in town was the Sodden Grange Inn to find a room and put their things down. They didn’t linger there for long, wanting to arrive at the Temults’ home before night began to fall, and it was already well past midday. They paid up their coin for the room for two nights, scampered up to their modestly prepared corner suite, and quickly freshened themselves up from their long journey to best look presentable for their friends.

Meanwhile, across town at the Temult homestead, Imogen and Laudna were separately preparing for their expected guests. Aria was sound asleep in a bassinet just off to the side between the dining room and kitchen, which is where Imogen currently was. She hummed to herself, milling to and fro about the kitchen collecting spices and other ingredients for their evening’s meal. As she traipsed through the space on light and airy feet as she danced to her little song, her path carried her around to the back of the kitchen where a large bay window looked out over the garden. She stopped in place there and peered through the windowpane to see Laudna crouched low in one of the beds of soil plucking a few fresh tomatoes off their vine.

The light was fading as the late midday sky started to transition to night, but from her vantage point Imogen could still see pretty clearly. It quickly became obvious to her that Laudna’s bushel was nearly full of tomatoes and other vegetables that she’d plucked. Imogen watched as Laudna reached for and took one last tomato from its vine, only for one of the tomatoes that had already been placed in the bushel to fall onto the ground. Laudna was quick to pick it up in the same hand that held the freshly cultivated one, and brushed the dirt off before she put them into the bushel, both now perched precariously on the edge and tempting the fates to fall once more.

Laudna stood from her crouched position in the tomato bed, carefully now as she didn’t want any more of her produce to fall and hit the ground. She used her free arm to cautiously hold everything in place in the bushel as she rose, ensuring their safety thus far. She caught Imogen’s gaze in the window looking out at her as she turned, and flashed her a smile. Before taking another step, and sensing the gathered goods were secure, Laudna reached down with her free hand and grabbed the hem of her skirt. She bunched up a fistful into her hand and pulled it up, exposing her long, ghostly white, rail-thin legs to the cool night air. She started to step carefully through the soil bedding trying to avoid stepping on anything still growing, taking little steps one by one.

Imogen watched as her raven-haired belle daintily tip-toed through the maze of the bed, Laudna’s bare feet sinking into the fresh soil and loam of their garden, allowing her to feel the dirt between her toes for a second. As Laudna neared the edge, still holding the bushel close to her with her forearm, she began to playfully hop from foot to foot through the rest of the garden; like a ballet dancer leaping across the stage during a performance, the bits of Laudna’s skirt that were free flowed behind her as she leapt, taking the shape of her leg as it rode up in her stride for the last two steps of her exit. A completely unnecessary show when she was already so close to the grassy edge, but she couldn’t resist the urge to have a a little fun.

Laudna landed gracefully outside the bounds of the garden patch, and dropped her skirt back to the ground. Imogen grinned as she rose her hands and gave a small round of applause as Laudna began to trek back toward the backdoor of the homestead. Imogen turned on her heel and walked through the house in the same direction as Laudna toward the back door.

As Laudna entered the house, brushing her feet off on the rug laying just inside the doorway, Imogen met her to collect the gathered goods from her arms. Having closed the distance and seeing her in the light now, Imogen let out a little giggle as she saw dirt tracked all over Laudna’s forehead and cheeks. “How in the Gods’ names…” she said in a playful exasperation as she licked her thumb and placed it up to Laudna’s forehead, wiping the dirt clean. “You’re like a child, I swear,” she said as Laudna laughed unashamedly while Imogen made her best attempt at grooming her.

“You act like I’m caked in mud, darling,” Laudna said as she raised the bushel up a little higher in an effort to get Imogen to turn her focus elsewhere. “It’s just a bit of dirt, though I do love your touch, always.”

Imogen trailed her hand down Laudna’s cheek and across her lips, Laudna giving her a soft kiss as expected. In the same motion, Imogen reached up from underneath with her other hand and braced the bushel from under Laudna, and began to gather it in her grasp.

“Go wash up, darlin’,” Imogen said while Laudna relinquished her hold on the bushel, slipping her arm out from its handle as she felt Imogen’s arm sliding in opposite hers. In doing so, Imogen stood up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Laudna’s cheek. “Go on,” she added.

Laudna gave Imogen a light tap on her butt as Imogen turned away to return to the kitchen and started to rinse the produce that Laudna had retrieved. While Imogen did that, Laudna followed her as far as their path would allow until deviating toward the hallway and down to the washroom. There she took a few minutes to clean herself up, even taking a moment to touch up her makeup for dinner.

Meanwhile, Imogen removed the vegetables from their bushel and started to wash them off as she counted just what Laudna had brought back. She had only needed two tomatoes and “however-many carrots” Laudna could carry. For the latter, Imogen could not fault Laudna for what she had returned, as carrots are forever troublesome; there were six carrots in all that Laudna had pulled, and while four of them were about as long as Imogen’s arm, none of the four were thicker than the size of a copper piece. The remaining two were of acceptable thickness, but quite short in length and were not nearly long enough to be of use.

“There’s a metaphor in here somewhere,” she sighed as she chopped up the longest two, judging them to be the best since she were planning to dice the carrots for their stew.

The tomatoes, meanwhile, is where Laudna got a bit carried away. Somehow, “two” had turned into “twelve,” and now Imogen had a dozen perfectly ripe tomatoes on her counter. One by one she rinsed them of their dirt, minding the one that Laudna had dropped that now presented with the softest of bruises.

“I said ‘two’, how’d she get ‘twelve’ from that…” Imogen wondered. “Did she not hear me right?” Imogen shrugged and continued to rinse off the collection of crops.

Just as she placed the last tomato down beside its counterparts, Imogen dried her hands off with a cloth towel that was hung off the doorknob of a low cabinet. Completing wringing her hand dry in the red and white striped strip of cloth, Imogen heard the raspy, thick accented voice of Pate call out from the corner of the room. “Imogen~! The baby is up!”

She turned and saw Pate bouncing up and down gently on the mobile that was attached to the bassinet where Aria had been sleeping. Well, he was less bouncing, and more flying in place as he clung to the mobile as it was now oscillating vertically from his hovering. Imogen placed the towel down on the counter and walked over to where the bassinet sat in the corner of the room, where the kitchen meets the dining area, to find a cooing and squirming Aria having aroused from her nap.

“Well hello, little darlin’,” Imogen said with the brightest smile and biggest eyes as she looked down on her bundle of joy. Aria squirmed in place, her hands and feet covered in the little mitts of her onesie that had been gifted to her from Orym’s mother on one of his previous trips ahead of her birth. She cooed as Imogen reached down and picked her up, cradling her in her arms and giving her a kiss on her forehead.

As Imogen began to walk away back toward the counter, she heard Pate cry out “What, no thank you’s for Pate?” Imogen sighed and dropped her head before giving an understanding chuckle, a small grin growing on her face.

“You’re right, I’m sorry Pate,” she said as she turned around and walked back over to Pate. “Thank you for letting me know, you’re a very good baby sitter.” Pate straightened his composure as Imogen reached out and pat him on the head while she gave him his requested praise. He beamed with joy.

“Pate, we have talked about this,” a voice came from around the corner. Laudna had emerged back into the kitchen, herself wringing her hands dry on a separate cloth towel that she had brought from the washroom with her. She had changed outfits and was now dressed in a very elegant but simple black and purple dress with lacy patterning made out to look like tree branches and blooming leaves. There was also embroidery around the neckline of purple flowers, and she wore black shoes with a little lift on the heel that had similar looking purple flowers on their face to match the neckline. “We do nice things not because we want to praise, but…”

Pate sighed and joined Laudna, as well as Imogen who chimed in at the end, “but because it is what’s right.” Laudna stood beside Imogen as they all finished speaking in unison, now acknowledging that she was holding a bright-eyed Aria.

“You’re right,” Pate continued on his own, before looking over at Imogen, as she began passing Aria off to Laudna. “I’m sorry.”

Imogen cracked another smile and pat him once more. “You’re a good boy Pate, don’t worry.” She gave him a wink, and returned to the counter to finish preparations of the vegetables for the stew.

Laudna now held Aria in her arms in the middle of the kitchen. Pate settled down into the bassinet, taking up the space that Aria had previously been laying in, curling himself up and taking little snooze of his own. As Imogen diced and sliced away at the last of the tomatoes she needed for dinner, Laudna began to bounce on her feet in place as she began to sing a little song to Aria, who was now firmly grasping a fistful of Laudna’s hair. Laudna played with Aria with her free hand as she sang,

The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the water spout Down came the rain and washed the spider out Up came the sun and dried up all the rain And the itsy-bitsy spider went up the spout again

Laudna lightly tickled Aria’s tummy, walking her fingers up her little torso to her chin in tune with the song, and presenting the tiniest bop on the nose when she arrived on “again,” eliciting a joyful laugh from Aria. She yanked at Laudna’s hair, prompting Laudna to whimper the quietest, most patient “ow” as Aria pulled once, twice more. It was less that it actually hurt, but more that Laudna was worried Aria might pull her hair out with something more, and didn’t want to startle her. Laudna delicately tried to get the baby to loosen her grip or at least give some slack on the strands she held, but Aria was unyielding in her grip and refused to relinquish any footing. She was locked in for now.

Imogen put down the last of the tomatoes into the stew, having decided to not let them go to waste by adding a third to the pot instead of the two as intended, and gave it a big stir with everything now in the melting pot. “There we go,” she said as she put the lid atop it’s opening and put another piece of kindling in the wood burner. Laudna turned around, directing both hers and Aria’s attention to Imogen as she cleaned her hands and the counter of her mess. “The stew should be ready in about an hour or two, I think. I need to go finish getting myself ready, though” Imogen declared as she dried her hands once more and met her two favorites in the middle of the kitchen.

“I’ve got our little dearie,” Laudna said as she tickled Aria again, prompting another coo as Imogen moved in to steal a kiss. She gave Aria a few playful nibbles on her cheek, making her laugh out in delight, Laudna beaming from ear to ear.

“I’ll be right back,” Imogen said as she peered up onto her tiptoes to kiss Laudna’s cheek one more time before bounding down the hall. She untied the apron that adorned her body and tossed it over a chair as she exited the kitchen, only for it to fall off the chair and slip to the floor.

Laudna shook her head at this, before she turned her attention back to Aria, saying “come on you, time to get you dressed to meet your uncles” as she proceeded down the hall toward the stairs, heading up to the nursery to get Aria changed.

In the downstairs washroom, Imogen splashed some cool water onto her face and arms and proceeded to take a few minutes to herself to freshen up and unwind. She looked herself in the mirror before closing her eyes, as she opened her mind up and proceeded to listen in on Laudna and Aria, having heard them move upstairs.

From here, as she took a moment in this private space to herself and listened in on her wife and their child, the symphony that was playing in her mind were comparable to that of the symphony that they’d heard a few months ago when they were vacationing in Yios. The strings, the woodwinds, the percussion, the range and tones and overall sound of the vocals, all of it coming together at once; Imogen thought it was the most beautiful music she had ever heard in the world, and she recalled making such remarks to Laudna that night as they returned to their inn that night.

What Imogen could hear now beat that performance. Hearing her beautifully scary wife’s hauntingly beautiful mind presenting such a sweet melodic symphony in unison with the voice and range of their daughter’s mind, their radiantly sweet and joyful daughter, overwhelmed Imogen and brought her to tears. She recalled that night a few months ago that she’d first heard Aria’s mind, before she was born, and how she was moved to tears then. This just intensified them.

Imogen sat and listened just for a moment as Laudna continued to get Aria dressed upstairs. She hummed to herself a little tune, unbeknownst to her the same melody that Imogen was currently hearing, as she slid a fresh onesie on Aria. This one a soft creme white color with little pink dots and bigger purple dots all across it. Aria didn’t fuss much for Laudna tonight, cooperating largely for the most part as they completed this complex ritual they’d come to be very familiar with.

Laudna began to put the finishing touches on Aria’s outfit, adorning her head with a little bow headband, and giving her a little kiss on the nose after she was done. “You stay there for just a second,” Laudna said to her as if Aria were about to suddenly hop up and walk away. Laudna kept an eye on her as she spun out of Aria’s sight, cleaning up the mess the was made. She put the soiled clothes into a hamper in the corner, and put away the lingering effects of baby care. Once everything had been cleared, Laudna pulled a black and purple harness sling out from the top-most drawer of the chest that Chetney had built for them, and began to put it on over her head and shoulders.

Aria was familiar with this sling, having been placed in it many a time by Laudna when the three of them go for their little strolls throughout the neighborhood. Aria had come to recognize it a little bit, seeming to understand where she was about to be put when it came out, but there wouldn’t be any walk tonight. “No no, tonight it’s just for cuddling,” Laudna said as she picked Aria up and began to insert her in between the sling’s support band and her own chest. After just a few seconds of scooting Aria into place one leg at a time, situating her against the framework of Laudna’s chest comfortably, she craned her head down and kissed Aria once more on the crown of her head before she left the bedroom and headed back downstairs.

Just as she reached the base of the stairs, she turned the corner to see Imogen emerging from the washroom, patting her face dry and slinging the towel over her shoulder. “Oh!” She exclaimed as she spotted Laudna and Aria coming toward her, before sighing of relief and giving a smile.

Laudna closed the distance as Imogen moved to do the same, walking toward but then past her before turning the corner to go upstairs. “Wait, where are you going,” Laudna asked as Imogen began to ascend the staircase.

She bent over the railing of the stairs and kissed Laudna on the forehead. “I need to change after all, I’ll be right back,” she said as she finished rushing up the stairs. Laudna heard her footsteps scamper quickly down the hall and into their bedroom, the door closing behind her.

In their bedroom, Imogen quickly changed out of the dress she had been cooking and cleaning in all day, grabbing the hem and pulling it up over her torso and slipping her head through and out its hole, tossing it to the floor in the corner. She had completely missed the dirty clothes bin she was aiming for by about a foot. She further hurried over to the closet and opened the doors, and began to rifle through the wardrobe’s options until her eyes landed on what she was looking for. She smirked and grabbed it, along with a pair of shoes that were laying on the ground just below that, and made haste getting dressed.

Knock knock knock. “Hello, Temults?”

Laudna heard the rapping at the door following by the calling from Orym a moment later as she was sat in the lounge, watching the fireplace. Their knocking having called Laudna to attention, breaking her out of the trance that watching the flames dance across the logs had put her in, she called out to those behind the door, “one moment!”

Laudna rose to her feet, holding Aria close to her still wrapped in her sling, and swished and swayed around the furniture that dotted the lounge, crossing through the threshold that separated the room from the entryway. Laudna craned her body up the staircase, propelled by one foot off the ground as she lurched around the banister and shouted politely, “Oh Imogen~, they’re here darling.” She said dropped back to the ground as she round in place and took the handful of steps toward the door.

Just as Orym and Dorian had stepped across the threshold and Laudna was closing the door, Imogen exited the bedroom and made for the staircase. The three of them below were in the middle of exchanging pleasantries when the sound of block heels knocking on wood interrupted their greetings, as Imogen began to descended the stairs. She had indeed changed as she told Laudna she going to, and was now wearing a beautiful soft violet dress that fell to just above her ankle, with a pair of black sandal heels that were adorned with a handful of jewels all along the various straps that bound to her foot. They were a pair Laudna recalled Imogen having received a a gift from Fearne’s friend, and Dorian’s friend as it were, Opal; Laudna then further recognized this outfit immediately as the one from their date night in Yios.

“Oh, my,” Laudna said out loud, respectfully, as she put a hand to her lips in sheer delight as her beautiful bride reached the bottom of the stairs and waved to their newly arrived guests.

Orym and Dorian even let out gasps of awe and admiration; “you look very pretty, Maude,” being a direct compliment paid by Dorian to her as he greeted her upon stepping inside. Imogen was immediately caught off guard and laughed at this loudly, before giving Dorian a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Oh, I missed you Dorian, c’mere,” she said with a laughed as he gripped the place where she punched him, feigning discomfort, before she pulled him in for a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

His face lit up with a bright smile as he embraced Imogen, “it’s so nice to see you too, Imogen.”

Dorian was sporting a suit appearing to be of semi-formal attire, a dashing blue jacket with matching pants — and a bold choice to not be wearing an undershirt, but something that Dorian was pulling off well given his physique. For Orym, his appearance this evening was heavily inspired by earth-tones, as he’d chosen to wear soft shades of green and brown in the form of tight fitting slacks and a button down shirt that left a few buttons undone to show off some of his chest hair.

Imogen led their guests into the lounge and offered each of them a seat. “Would you like something to drink? We have a few delicious bottles of wine that we were saving for special occasions like tonight, if y’all were in the mood?”

Orym and Dorian both nodded and Imogen left to prepare a few glasses. Laudna entertained them as they waited, beginning to exchange commonalities and mundane pleasantries. How are you’s, how’s Zephrah this time of year, where is the Silken Squall and how are your parents, has anyone heard from Dariax or Deni$e, the banal topics. Imogen soon sat down and joined them in a drink, sharing a toast to themselves and their comrades.

“To Bell’s Hells; hopefully, we can get all of us together sometime. Wouldn’t that be a treat?” Imogen said as the others took their sips, before taking her own.

Laudna set her glass down and began to remove a fussing Aria from the sling. “That it would be, wouldn’t it” she said as she lifted Aria up from the sling, as though she were being asked the question herself. Now that she was freed from her containment, Aria cooed and began to give grabby-hands at Laudna as she gave her a smile. Just then, a spit bubble started forming slowly and Laudna knew what was about to happen; being a learned parent now, she was quick to catch Aria’s spit-up with a handkerchief and managed to clean her up quickly, without any issue.

Imogen excused herself to check on dinner, which gave Laudna the opportunity to ask Orym and Dorian which of them would like to hold Aria first. “We didn’t want to play favorites, so you two can decide amongst yourself,” Laudna said.

Dorian was quick to deflect to Orym, but not as quick as Orym was to deflect to him first. They both spoke over one another: “You haven’t visited them in so long, you should go first;” “right, I haven’t visited them in so long, so you should absolutely go first instead.” They politely went back and forth for just a few seconds before Laudna interjected: “Gods, where’s Letters to flip their coin when you need them?” She stood up and walked over to Dorian and extended her arms, presenting Aria to him.

Orym gave a slight grin, figuring he had won that round, and gave a little chuckle that no one else seemed to pick up at the moment.

As Dorian took the baby into his arms and pulled her in to his chest, holding her close, he began to rock back and forth softly. “Hello little Aria,” he said as he presented a finger to her. She gripped it in her hands and held it tight and firm.

“Careful, she’ll pull it off,” Laudna cautioned playfully, motioning to the bit of scalp that it turns out had come loose during Aria’s earlier tug-of-war session. Dorian laughed at the comment initially, before he saw Laudna’s motion. His laugh turned to a grimace at the sight as Laudna patted the skin flap back down into place; Orym kept his eye focused on Aria, only watching Laudna out of his periphery, not quite keen on wanting to see it directly.

After a few minutes, Aria started to get fussy. Dorian attempted to get her to calm but was finding it to be futile, as she began to squirm, kicking out and arms starting to flail, hands getting grabby. Laudna encouraged him to keep trying and holding her, knowing that sometimes Aria is just working out new people and situations. Just as she began to act up a bit more beyond that however, Imogen returned and announced that dinner was nearly ready. She noticed that Aria wasn’t behaving well anymore, and walked over to Dorian and put her arms out. “It’s okay hon, I’ll take her from here, she’s probably just hungry.”

Dorian shifted Aria around in his arms and brought her head up to his lips and gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead before passing her back off to her mother. Imogen smiled as Aria’s uncle embraced her for the first time, thinking to herself how happy she was with their little found family of so many aunts and uncles that their baby now had.

Imogen held Aria close and sat down in the chair she previously occupied, beginning to lower just the top of her dress to expose her breast. “Orym, is it alright if I feed her before you take her,” she asked as she lifted Aria up to it and placed her gently at her exposed nipple, trying to get Aria to latch and begin feeding, which happened rather quickly. Imogen shifted both their body’s weights so they were both comfortable before Orym could even answer.

Orym smiled and nodded, “oh of course, you don’t even need to ask. There’s plenty of time, and actually…” his voice trailed off as he hopped down from his spot on the couch besides Dorian and walked back over to the entryway. “We brought some gifts for you all.” Orym grabbed a bag that he had set down just inside the doorway and came back into the lounge, reclaiming his seat. He opened the pouch of the bag, which was a moderately sized brown satchel with a buckle clasp on the front, and stuck his arm inside. It must have been a Bag of Holding, because Orym’s entire arm disappeared into this bag, and while Orym was not the biggest person here by any means — Aria would soon outpace him surely — this bag was not that tiny, either.

After just a moment of reaching, Orym first emerged with an envelope that he set down at his side. “That can wait a sec,” he said as he plunged back into the Bag, seemingly reaching deeper than before. His tongue was exposed between his lips as he searched before finally a tiny “got it” was uttered, and he pulled his arm out once more. “Ta da!” He exclaimed upon revealing what it was that he had pulled out: a small gift basket full of various trinkets, lotions, spices, and odds and ends from Zephrah. “This is from me, from home. There’s a little bit of everything in here,” he said as he passed it off to Laudna. “I thought it might help to serve all of you.”

Laudna examined the items up close as she was handed the basket. It was chock full of jars and tiny pouches of spices for cooking and baking, a cookbook of recipes from Zephrah housewives, soaps and lotions for washing and cleaning; Alma, Orym’s mother, even packed in an assortment of colored onesies and cloth diapers, as well as some wooden toys and dolls for Aria specifically.

Tucked away beneath all of that however was a special stone that had the iconography of the Ashari on it. “It’s special,” Orym explained as Laudna plucked it out from the basket. “It’s a sending stone. It works once a day, but it’s always working. It won’t work again after this for today, but —“ he picked up the stone and waved his hand over it once, twice, a third time “—just listen closely and tell me what you hear.” As his hand passed over it the third and final time, a sound began to play. It was quiet at first, but as he passed the stone over to Laudna and she put it to her ear, she could hear it.

“Is… is that Zephrah?” She asked.

Orym smiled. “Yeah,” he was beaming. “It’s the sounds of Zephrah. It’s always listening, so once a day, you can turn it on and listen to the ambiance for a little while. I thought Aria might like it in her bedroom.” Orym turned back to where he’d put the envelopes down and grabbed them in his hand. "But here, I have another gift for you both,” he said as he handed the envelope out to Laudna, face up. “There’s one in here for another place, as well as a special message.”

Laudna looked over at Imogen a bit puzzled before taking it in her hand. Imogen returned her look, confused herself as to what it could be. She averted her gaze down to Aria briefly to check on her as she fed. No problems. She looked back up as Laudna now had the envelope in her hands, and turned it over to reveal to wax seals adorning the flap keeping them secure. Laudna inspected the seals closely; one she recognized as a symbol of Vox Machina, from when Bertrand showed it to them on his lapel all those many moons ago. The other took Laudna a moment to recognized, but then it became clear to her because it was the first time she had actually seen this: it was the new (to her) Chamber of Whitestone seal.

Laudna’s mouth opened for a moment in surprise. “This… is from Whitestone? From … “

“The DeRolo’s,” Orym said.

[iheartmoons]

regulus is calling james the devil incarnate bc he's getting tempted by him 🙏🙏it's getting good yall