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fartcloudfartcloud · 3 days

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What about Logan meeting a reader with more dominance than him? Like what would he do, what would he want to do to them?

*giggles and wrings hands together* You've found my achilles heel mr.69

i dont know if this is what you wanted but im using this as my excuse to write FREAKY SUBMISSIVE LOGAN PORN!!!

warnings: Edging, Logan being mean and then begging on his knees a second later, i do say reader is "5 foot whatever" but if that doesnt apply just ignore it lmao, I do describe him as almost crying every now and then so if that turns u off this might be a skip

This is short (1.5k) but I love submissive men so do NOT be afraid to lmk if you want more :)

Personally, I was raised by a woman way too strong headed to ever be the stereotype of submission, and I'm sure a lot of you share the same sentiment in some way or another. I was always told to never let a man tell me what to do, and I can picture a reader being the exact same way.

Not mean, not bullheaded or rude, but strong. Tough. Logan had expected to blow through you like he had the rest of his team (or at least how he thought he did, though he was a lot tougher in his head than in action). But when he stood up to you, all 5 foot whatever of you, it felt like you were standing eye to eye.

You did exactly as you were taught, chin up and shoulders back as you spoke with confidence, and it easily had you slipping into positions of power in the mansion with ease. He admired you from afar for a while, watched as you seamlessly commanded a room, effortlessly organizing missions and handling insubordinate children like it was nothing.

Logan couldn't describe where the attraction came from. Originally, he thought it was his manly man urges to take a dominant woman and make her pine for him, but you and I both know that's not why you got him going.

If you were to ask him right now in his current scenario, he wouldn't be able to tell you which was his favorite part. Not sure if it's you under him in between his knees, looking up and fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him like has something to behold; or if it's your firm grip around his cock, effortlessly bringing him so close to the edge before you manhandle him back down to earth.

It had only been once so far, but you had gotten him bad. Your hands all sloppy and wet working up and down his length with vigor, your filthy loudmouth a never-ending record of come on baby, let me see it, let go for me.

All that build up, just for you to -right as he whimpers out a breathless "going to fucking cum"- halt all action and grip your flingers tightly around his base.

It ripped a deep growl from his chest, the feeling almost painful as his finish line is so rudely ripped from him.

He should've known, he knows you too well too have assumed he could get you all pretty on your knees without some anterior motive.

"You want something?" You ask him innocently, that stupid pretty smile still spread across your face. He grinds his teeth as the pressure in his stomach slowly simmers down, not enough air in his lungs to formulate a response.

You slowly start stroking him again, an agonizing pace that has his cock flushed a deep red and practically throbbing in your hand. The sound is pornographic and it's all too much for him.

He's whining now, head thrown back and noises getting increasingly high pitched as you keep his release just barely out of his reach. If he could focus enough to use his ears, he’d hear you laughing at him.

He so rudely tries to interrupt you, tries to bring his own hands down to just get himself there, but you wouldn't allow it. You'd make him sit on his hands if you had to, and when you grabbed each wrist and planted them next to his thighs and told him to "stay," he knew better than to disobey.

"Gotta ask for the things you want, Wolvie." You remind him. It's just basic manners, really, frankly he should be thanking you for still touching him after being so rude.

"Don't gotta ask for shit," He spits out through clenched teeth.

See, that was Logans problem. He had too much fucking pride, needed someone to teach him a lesson. Guess today he needs it to be you.

"Mm you're right, Logan," you've got a smile on your face as you speak that Logan can't read. Either way, he's scared.

None of it matters though as your hand picks up speed and pressure, resuming your prior ministrations as your fingers suddenly massage every spot with precision. His breath is gone as his head hangs limp on his shoulders, his fingers gripping the comforter like it would save him from your attack.

"You don't gotta do shit," You're talking but he's not listening. It's all too good, he's being hurdled towards his orgasm faster than ever, he couldn't hear your jests even if he wanted to over the pressure in his ears. He’s gonna cum, he's so fucking close, and your hands feel so fucking good so perfect and it's all so much and-

"But neither do I," and just like that you're off him. Not like before, this time you stand up and physically take a step back from him, watching his form head to toe as he's forced to cope with his second lost orgasm.

The groan he lets out is primal, you expect to see him start ripping the pillows and sheets with how his writhing on your bed. He’s on his back twitching, practically crying from the ache pulsing through the center of his body. It hurts, he's so desperate it physically hurts, his hips rutting into the air in search of anything.

He has no sense anymore, no control over any of his limbs as he falls to the floor and crawls to you, the only thing he can make out in his fogged-up mind is need.

"Please baby," He begs mindlessly, "You're so fucking mean to me," He's kissing your thighs and pulling at your hands, buttering you up and wallowing in any contact you'll give him.

Neither of you know how it happened, know at what point in the night he broke and became a whimpering messy puppy, but God did it feel good to watch, to see him yearn for you so desperately.

His eyes are teary eyed and hazy as he speaks, "I'll do anything princess I'm sorry," He kisses you palm and knuckles and up your wrists, "Please baby I'm sorry I'm sorry just fucking-" His hips involuntarily grind down, his thighs twitching and his hard cock bobbing between his legs. "Please touch me baby I can't fucking take it,"

He’s a mess, his cock is leaking all over his thighs and the floor, and his lips won't leave your body, lathing kisses anywhere he can, worshipping your body as you stand still and look down at him.

"Why can't you just behave the first time?" You ask, wrapping your fingers in his hair and gently tugging his hair back, making him look at you as he speaks.

"Was just playin baby," He kisses the wrist of the hand in his hair, "shouldn't have teased you baby I'm sorry, please baby please," his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he nuzzles into you. It's pathetic, and if anyone else ever saw him like this he's sure he could just explode on the spot.

"Get back on the bed." You order, taking pleasure in the way he scrambles back to his spot, his legs spread for you and his hands pressed back into their spot next to his hips. He’s disheveled, his hair falling over his face and sticking to his forehead, a thin layer of sweat covering him head to toe. Youd keep him like this forever if you could.

You decide to take mercy on him though, the sight of him on his knees begging like a dog more than enough to satisfy your cravings. Now, all you wanted was to do was so how pretty he looked once he actually finished for you.

You find your spot between his legs again, looking up at him all pretty just like before. God you were going to ruin him.

"Go on. Tell me what you want," you give him one last instruction before giving in. His breath is shaky, his words coming out in a whole different tone than before. He sounds small, on the brink of tears as he whimpers out one last desperate, "please," before you spit in your hand and wrap it back around his cock.

Instantly he's gone. He doesn't even have the energy to moan or cry, he's just paralyzed. His eyes roll back and his hand clamps over his mouth, no air left in his lungs as the most mind-numbing wave of pleasure works up from his core. He wasn't even cumming yet and it already was making him shake.

He should've just trusted you, should've known that you'd make him feel so fucking good if he just listened. Never again, he'll never say no to you ever again.

By the time his orgasm actually hit him, he's laid out flat on his back on the mattress, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. Both his hands are wrapped in the sheets, stuck in place by his claws that slowly inch out with every rope of cum that comes from him. There's no sound until it's all out of him, your hands not stopping till he's whining and pushing you away from him.

You watch as he recovers, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he desperately tries to get air back into his lungs, aftershocks still tumbling through him. His eyes flutter back open, not enough energy to focus on anything else though as his claws start sheathing back into his knuckles.

He sits up as you return from the bathroom with a washcloth, gently cleaning off his stomach and anything that was coated in a thin layer of his finish. He’s sensitive, hissing and gasping as you gently clean his slowly softening length and thighs.

Once all evidence is taken care of, you look up at him with soft eyes. He looks so amazing like this, his eyes can't focus on anything while his lips slowly pull into a big dopey grin. You let him take you in for a moment, just staying like this with him till he has the strength to speak.

"Jesus Christ," Is all he says before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before falling back onto the bed.

"Are you going to make it?" You tease, cuddling up under his arm where he lay and resting your head on his bicep.

"I don't think so," He giggles, enough oxygen in his system now, enough strength in him to wrap himself around you and kiss your head. "You were a lot closer to killing me then you think,"

You giggle and smack his chest, "keep being mean like that and next time I actually will,"

#logan howlet x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #writing #logan howlet smut #logan wolverine #wolverine smut #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #logan x reader #Submissive!Logan #ask

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peachysunrize · 2 days

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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: none! A bit of angst, mentions of Aemond’s eye pain, flufffff✨

Word count: 5.6k+

A/n: soooooooo what do we think??👀 shit’s bout to hit the faaaan🙂‍↕️🤭 reblogs and comments are so appreciated!💕🥹 also a special thank you to @namelesslosers & @catinapottedplant for beta-ing this for me<3333

Taglist: it’s closed<3

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 7: country club

“It feels like we’re on a secret mission,” you say as you walk hand in hand upstairs towards Alicent’s study with Helaena.

“You know she only allowed me once in this room? The boys aren’t allowed even near the stairs,” she scoffs and you nod at her, knowing how Aegon would probably turn into a kid all over when he steps into a new area. “But to let you inside this room… she either wants to fuck you over for shagging her son or something serious is happening.”

“Alicent fucking me over isn’t serious in your humble opinion?” you ask her, shaking your head when she grins at you. “You’re exactly like Aegon, carbon copy.”

“How dare you?” she gasps, leading you to the end of the hallway. “Aegon is a whore, a lovely one, but still a whore.”

“I didn’t mean that you are one too, what do you take me for?” You nudge her with your elbows, giggling as you walk closer to the door at the end of the path. “I mean you guys are just chaotic! Both of you think your Mum is too dangerous and at the same time she’s a saint.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll back you up in there if she brings up Grandpa and how he says a new relationship is bad for Aemond.” She pats your head and you gawk at her.

“Bitch, you better,” you slap her hand away playfully. “You set us up, I’m gonna snitch on you if your Mum says anything about this. Also… why is it a bad thing for Aemond to move on?”

“That’s… we’ll talk about it later, yeah?” she says awkwardly, knocking on her mother’s study door before she pushes it open, “Oh! Well… morning, Mum.”

“Hi, hey!” Alicent clears her throat as she tries to appear busy with a line on her wooden desk while Criston turns his back to her and looks out of the window, both of them flushed and blushing. “Morning, girls!”

“Hi, Ali,” you look between the couple, watching with amusement as Helaena tries to stifle her giggles and Alicent is nearly fainting with how red and ashamed she looks. “How are you doing on this fine morning?”

“Amazing!” She claps her hands, and sits down on the chair and points at the loveseats in front of her desk. “As you know Aemond’s birthday is in a few days, three to be exact, and I thought we should do something special for him. I mean, as special as he lets us…”

“I don’t remember if I’ve ever been to one of his birthdays,” you shrug. “So, what is the plan?”

“You know we already have our wine selection, we even told him that it will be for his birthday. But… I was thinking about hosting this party in the Targaryen country club.”

“Wow—“

“Are you serious, Mum? Like actually fucking serious?” Helaena cuts you off, her blonde brows twisting in a deep frown. “You’re joking.”

“Hel—“

“No, you know how he feels about them! You know this and you wanna torture him!”

“What? What’s going on?” you ask, trying to intervene in the situation before Helaena says something she might regret later. “Is there going to be someone other than us?”

“Listen to me, my loves,” she sighs and looks at Criston pleadingly before she averts her Bambi eyes to you, “my family is rich enough to buy thousands of these clubs, but during my divorce with Viserys… his one and only condition was that we couldn’t have access to the club without telling him or Rhaenyra first.”

“Basically, she has to invite them all because of a stupid fucking belief when she knows how much pain they have caused Aemond!”

“Helaena.” Alicent’s voice echoes in the room, and for the first time you see how your best friend shrinks from her mother’s gaze. “Darling girl, I will only tell them about a gathering, nothing more or less.”

“Why do you wish to throw this party there?” You reach to hold Helaena’s hand and she squeezes yours in gratitude, helping her calm down a little bit. “I mean we can do this somewhere else! Maybe a party on your family yacht!”

“Because Aemond is a man of history, and that club has been passed on from generation to generation. It holds kind of a legacy for Targaryens. And knowing Aemond and where he decided to get married, I think he will love it.”

“Yeah, he will if the person who cut his eye out doesn’t show up,” Helaena sighs, rubbing her forehead, “Listen, Mum, I love you and I really respect you but… come on, Aemond will not like it if Rhaenyra shows up, nor will any of us! I don’t think he wants to see eye to eye with Viserys after how his wedding turned into shambles.”

“I’m not inviting them, I’ll just text your father’s assistant to tell him we’ll be there. I doubt he wants to join us anyway…” Alicent rests her forehead on her hands, and in an instant, Criston stands next to her, rubbing her shoulders soothingly. “Thank you.”

“Does this party have a theme or a dress code?” you ask, leaning back on the seat, trying your best not to show your excitement for your boyfriend’s birthday party.

“It will be a formal gathering, a cocktail party of sorts. Luxurious, comfortable, and a bit of a show-off because my father will join us and he is all about image and reputation, so there will definitely be a few photographers. Oh, and my brother will join us as well!”

“Finally meeting this ultra-rich Uncle Gwayne,” you chuckle, nodding at Alicent. “I hope gifts are allowed.”

“Aemond hates gifts—“

“Let her buy something for him, maybe someone out of the family will change his mind, yeah?” Helaena comes to your rescue, winking at you and squeezing your hand, “Besides, Uncle is going to give him something mind-blowing anyway.”

“Alright, but you will handle his attitude yourself,” she points at you, glancing at Criston, who is silently listening to the conversation. “So, the country club, Rose wine, formal clothes, one single gift from you, and a good few days spent together.”

“I’ve never been to a country club!” you acknowledge, already excited for the next few days you will be spending with the Targaryens. “What should I even pack?”

“Can I pack your clothes? Please? Pretty please?” Helaena begs you, pulling you up on your feet quickly before you both wave goodbye and leave Alicent’s study. “You're gonna be so surprised to see what I have bought you now!”

“You’re so fucking crazy.” You both laugh quietly as you walk past Daeron’s room. “Alright, you can pack my bags. But I’m just gonna—“

“Go, go! Go check up on your man, babe.” She kisses your cheek before she departs from you, skipping toward her room to grab a few things to bring for you.

With a soft sigh, you walk downstairs, moving through the endless hallways of the mansion, and finally reaching Aemond’s room. Knocking on his door gently, you wait for a response, but then you only hear a groan in what you can only assume is pain.

“Little Nerd?” You slowly push the door open, finding Aemond curled up on his side, clutching his duvet hard in his fists. “Baby, are you alright?”

You approach him, padding towards his bed as he trembles slightly, his breaths coming out quickly and unevenly, and with worry, you crawl on his bed behind him, gently brushing his long hair off the spare pillow to rest your elbow on it.

“Hey…” you lean over his face; he is flushed, his good eye is closed and the other is an empty socket. You brush his hair out of his face, caressing his head as gently as you can.

“Darling?” he calls for you, his voice fragile and quivering. You press a kiss on his clammy forehead, rubbing his arm to soothe him a little, finally understanding what he must be dealing with.

“How bad is the pain?” You scoot closer, resting your head on his shoulder while you rub his arm, reaching to caress his fist gently, trying to open his fingers without bothering him. “What can I do for you?”

“Just… just leave,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but let me help you, yeah?” you try to convince him, snaking your arm behind his neck, gently rolling him over so there is no weight on his damaged eye. “Come on.”

“I always do it alone, I think I can cope—“

“I know you do, and I’m proud of you for that,” you cut him off before his pain turns into anger, “but you don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

“I-I forgot to put my eyepatch on—“ He tries to sit up and move away from you but you wrap your other arm around his middle and keep him on the bed. He can easily push you away, but when he doesn’t, you sigh in relief and pull him down so his back rests on your chest, his head tucked in your shoulder.

“Alys… she used to give me head massages,” he whispers, closing his good eye as he slowly lets his body relax in your arms, the pain of his eye still lingering in the empty socket. “Probably the only thing she did without demanding anything in return.”

“Would you like me to do the same?” you ask, pulling the duvet on top of you, cradling his head in your arms. “Or, I can apply some of the creams you have put there.”

“My head is killing me,” he groans again, turning in your arms to lay his head on your chest, and you tuck him under your chin, holding him close as he grabs your waist. “I forgot to take my meds last night…”

“Oh no.” You squeeze him in your embrace, pouting a little as he battles with the agony. “Tell me how I can help you, maybe I can do something to ease your pain.”

“You can’t do anything,” he sighs and looks up at you, reaching to cup your cheek. “Just stay here, the pills will kick in in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” you rest your hand on top of his, bringing his palm to your lips to press a gentle kiss on it, smiling down at him softly, “Do you wanna talk about something?”

“Yeah, what should we talk about?” He rests his head back on your chest, closing his eye as he listens to your breathing.

“Hmm, maybe your birthday?”

“Not a fucking chance—“

“Oh, come on, don’t be a bummer! You're gonna be twenty-six in a few days! That’s exciting,” you chuckle as he groans and hides his face in your dress, smothering himself between your boobs, “and get your face off of my chest. I know your game, Targaryen.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” he groans, wrapping his arm around you to hold on to you tightly as a new wave of pain rushes through his nerves. “Fuck—I wish I could die.”

“Hey, look at me,” you look at him seriously, craning his neck to force him to look at you, “I know the pain is bad, my darling, I know… but you will get through it, you have done it before, you will do it again. Don’t you dare say you wish to— fuck I will never forgive you if you say that again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, his grip tightening on you as you lean down to kiss the bridge of his nose. “I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be.” You prep his cheek with kitten kisses. “As long as you have me, I won’t let anything happen to you. Also!”

“No, please—“

“We should pack your clothes! Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun giving you all of my attention on your birthday!” You squeal when he flips you both over, covering the empty socket of his eye before he leans down to kiss you.

Your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately, yearning for more, but you know Aemond is not in the right place to give in to your urges. Instead, you reach to remove his hand from his face after breaking the kiss.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, baby.” You kiss him this time, letting him slowly relax and get comfortable. He kisses you back, and finally, his pain subsides.

“This is— wow!”

You look around as Aemond drives through the gates of the country club, his free hand mindlessly caressing your thigh. It is a shock that he decided to drive at nighttime, as he mostly lets someone else do the driving at such an hour, but you can sense his nervousness grow with each passing second.

“I know, it’s fucking huge,” he mumbles, rounding the steering wheel as he drives to the parking, stopping the car in front of the doorman. “Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mr. Targaryen.” The man nods at Aemond and you, opening the door for him before he is handed the keys to the car.

You watch Aemond walk towards you, opening the door for you before he realizes his mother is right behind his car, stepping out of the SUV with Cole’s help. You pat his shoulder, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before putting some distance between the two of you, waiting for others to join you and him.

“It’s gorgeous,” you exclaim, looking at the entrance of the building; just as Aemond said, the building itself is huge, but the area leading to it is just as beautiful and wide. You loop hands with Helaena as the group walks upstairs towards the door. “How come we have never come here?”

“Well… Viserys comes here nearly every week. I think Mum didn’t wanna see him at all,” she shrugs. “Anyway, his first wife was obsessed with this place. Not gonna lie, there is a huge portrait of her somewhere in the dining hall… used to make Mum so sad when she caught him staring at her more than glancing at her.”

“Wow, what a piece of shit.” You grimace, giving her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe, he’s just… an ass.”

“Don’t worry, no one hates him more than your boyfriend,” she whispers, and you let out a sad chuckle, knowing how much damage he has done to Aemond.

“I might though,” you squeeze her arms, watching as some people open the door for you. “I wanna curse him for hurting my best friend and my man.”

“Oooh, since when?”

“Since the day we fucked—“

“Forget I fucking asked.” She slaps your shoulder playfully, dragging you inside the building. “Welcome to the Targaryen country club!”

“It’s a shame how I’ve never been here,” Helaena rolls her eyes, “but thank you. This is more than I can ever dream of.”

“Alright, we’ve got two days before Aemond’s birthday! Sleep well tonight, and tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here,” Alicent says and kisses all of you goodnight, and Criston follows her towards the room.

“So, lovers,” Aegon starts, wrapping an arm around Aemond’s shoulders even though he has a hard time reaching his height, “you gonna share a room orrrr—“

“I’m gonna show her around,” Aemond extends his hand for you to take, and you let go of Helaena to reach for him, letting him pull you in his arms as he shrugs Aegon off of him, “and you better shut your mouth about this.”

“I saw nothing,” Aegon throws his hands up, looking at Daeron and Hel, who just nod and shoo you away. “Have fun!”

“They are annoying,” he sighs as he pulls you away from them, walking through the large room with portraits hanging off the wall, leading you to the door which opens to the paths ending with tennis courts, a large swimming pool and a lake nearby.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your head on his chest. “Are you excited for your chic birthday?”

“Hmmm.” He rests his chin on top of your head as you both walk between the tennis courts. “Not really, at least I have you here. That’s something I look forward to.”

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reach a path that’s decorated with willow and other trees, leading to a large golf area. “I like it when I’m with you, I feel… I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Aemond chuckles, kissing the crown of your head, “but I feel the same. There are moments I think I am a better person when I’m around you; less stoic, less uptight.”

“Nope nope, it’s my turn to tell you about how I feel.” You pull away from his embrace, grabbing his hand to step off of the path and walk between the trees. “I’ve never been in a relationship that allows me to be free this much. There’s always been a leash on me and my interests, and to be fair, I’ve never dated someone younger than me.”

“Why the sudden doubt in our age gap?” Aemond asks, a shuddering smile on his face. “Does it bother you?”

“What?” You turn around immediately to look at him, sighing before reaching to cup his face. “No, no, of course not! It’s actually something that crossed my mind a second ago. Two years is nothing, especially when I feel so safe and appreciated when I’m by your side.”

“I just— it’s difficult,” he sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “For me, not-not you. I… I think about how things would have turned out if I was never dumped. I’d never find something more than a friend in you.”

“It’s difficult for me, too.” You caress his cheeks. “This feeling… isn’t meant to be easy. It feels right, I mean what we have is right, despite the odds. You’re fresh out of a relationship that lasted so long, and I’ve been your sister’s friend for so long. It’s kind of sad that if your ex didn’t run away, I wouldn’t be able to even kiss you. That makes me so fucking emotional.”

“Yeah, the heartbreak is still there inside me, somewhere I can’t really reach but I feel it somewhere, more than I’d like to admit. Not because I think about Alys, no, but… did I really deserve that? I absolutely adore you, I can’t put it into words, but I’m lucky to find something—someone worth risking my life for.”

“You don’t know it yet, but you have a tendency to make me melt with your words. It’s annoying, really, how impactful you are.” You make him chuckle, and he dips his head down to kiss you quickly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are your Mum and Grandpa against our relationship?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his grip tightening on your hips, “I know Mum loves you, and she’ll approve. No doubt about her, but Otto… well… he cares about our reputation so much. After the wedding, he’s been reaching out to us nonstop. He wants to make sure the world, or specifically, Rhaenyra and Viserys, know that we are in good shape. Me getting into a public relationship is just… so soon.”

“I understand�� okay, so you don’t wanna tell others just yet, right?” You lean back on one of the trees, wrapping your arms around Aemond’s neck. “I was curious, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable—“

“Hey, no, absolutely not.” He steals a quick kiss from you, caging you with one hand on the tree and the other on your waist. “I’m glad you asked me. I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you hidden from everyone. I’m proud to be with you, and I would show you off to the world the moment I could.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” You giggle when he nudges his nose against yours. “I wanted to also let you know that your father and sister might join us here.”

You see how he visibly tenses, jaw clenching as he thinks about the last time he saw them — the failed wedding.

“Whatever,” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from you to take a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he looks up at the sky.

“Aemond, I tried to say something so your Mum would kind of ditch them, but—“

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He is quick in reassuring you that he knows why they might show up. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Come, I wanna spend one night without anyone bothering us,” you say and he agrees, intertwining your fingers as you both walk inside the building, enjoying a quiet night together.

“All I’m saying is that tea is the solution to all of your problems!” Helaena says, crossing her legs as she sips on her morning tea. The sun shines at the grounds of the country club, and Hel’s suggestion to have breakfast in one of the many balconies is extraordinary.

“Bold of you to say that in front of a coffee person,” you reply and reach for your cup. “Also, thank you so much for packing these clothes! I had no idea I owned them.”

“Well, I can't let my bestie stay in our cultural country club without aesthetic clothes—oh, good morning birthday boy!”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” Aemond appears behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Morning, darling.”

“Hi, handsome.” He bends down to kiss you slowly, making Helaena gag once more. “Why do you look so disgusted? You’re not a virgin, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, well, maybe because I grew up with her and you at the same time. And I’m older than both of you and single. Do you see how horrible I must be feeling?”

“Cut the crap, Hel, I know you’ve been in a very, very steamy friendship with the Stark boy. You ain’t fooling no one.” She turns to you, gawking at you while her cheeks get covered in crimson red, blushing as she looks down at her tea. “Besides, he is hot—“

“I beg your pardon?” Aemond says, frowning at you and you are quick to chuckle and pull him down again, kissing him languidly. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. No one is near as hot as you are, Little Nerd. You are my one and only.”

“Alright, alright, we get it, now sit and eat something. Mum said something about guests coming over today,” Helaena says, and you watch how Aemond’s smile fades slowly. He nods silently and sits down in front of you, taking a sip from the coffee he is sure you made for him as he grows quiet.

“Aemond…” Helaena reaches and squeezes his shoulder. “I know how you feel about them, fucking hell, even I don’t want them around, but it is what it is. Just—I’m begging you, don’t make a scene.”

“As if the last time they didn’t provoke me.” He taps his foot on the ground, sipping on his drink before he sighs and pats his sister’s hand. “I won’t talk to them, don’t worry.”

“I’m worried about you, not them, sweet brother.” She smiles at him sympathetically. “They have the tendency to get under everyone’s skin.”

“Not yours though.” Aemond grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles while he talks to Helaena. “You seem to like them anyway.”

“Right, because I danced one time with Jace shows how much I adore them—“

“You had Aegon vibrating in his seat from anger.”

“Protective much?” you comment, and Aemond shrugs but matches your teasing smirk. “Is it a quality in Targaryen men? Should I be worried?”

“Yeah, if you’d like me to not go to jail.” Helaena scoffs at him, and he continues, “I’d probably kill the man if they lay a hand on you.”

“That’s so fucking hot, but please don’t kill anyone, I need you around.” You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss like you always do, but pull away quickly so Helaena can have a peaceful moment. “Who are your guests anyway? Besides your father and sister.”

“Grandpa will be here too. Daemon, I think? Oh, and there is a good chance Uncle Gwayne will join us tomorrow!” Helaena explains.

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m gonna take you away from these people the moment we are done saying hi.”

“How charming, Aemond.” You grin at him, hearing the sounds of Aegon’s quick steps reaching the balcony.

“Morning, morning.” Aegon bows dramatically. “Anyway, our precious, most gracious guests have arrived. You won’t believe how horrendous Viserys looks. It’s like a snake has been eating him inside out, it’s fucking creepy.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t say that about our father, Egg.” Helaena stands up and helps you up too, looking between you and Aemond. “Don’t give them a reason to make our lives a living hell. You can disappear when we go outside, yeah? Just not now— and you! Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Aemond nods and with one last reassuring smile, you all step off the balcony, and you watch how Aemond’s walls are back up as he walks downstairs; his face is stoic, emotionless as if he wasn’t grinning a second ago. He walks with his hands locked behind his back, his shoulders rolled back and chin held high. You can see no trace of emotion in him anymore.

“There they are,” Alicent says, her voice soft and welcoming, but everyone can feel the discomfort under it. “Morning, my loves. Come, let us—“

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” With a wave of a hand, Viserys dismisses the group entirely, limping towards the dining hall with his cane.

“I apologize, Father is really not doing well,” Rhaenyra tells Alicent, a polite smile on her face. “He is more weary than ever. I hope you understand.”

“He could have said a normal hello, couldn’t he?” Aegon sneers, leaning against the wall as he watches everyone.

“Aegon, please.” Alicent looks at her oldest, and once you look down, you see how her nails are bloody and raw from being picked at. “I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“We will, thank you.” Rhaenyra glances at Helaena, giving her a small smile, before she looks at Aemond. “It is nice to see you well, brother. The marriage stunt was pretty horrible. I’m glad you are well enough to host a party.”

“Yeah, one would think two months after a horrible breakup, he would be in ruins.” Daemon’s booming voice echoes in the hall, and your arm tightens around Helaena’s as you watch how he smirks, his and Rhaenyra’s kids coming into view shortly. “The bridesmaid is here too, I see. You have got good company, nephew.”

“I do,” Aemond replies with the coldest voice you have ever heard from him. You watch him breathe softly, masking his feelings easily, but he is an open book to you; he is nervous, a bit angry, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders are evident.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Mr. Targaryen,” you say quickly, not really thrilled with how Daemon gives you an overall look, his smirk widening as he chuckles.

“Yes, yes, very nice,” he looks at Rhaenyra and extends his arm to her. “Shall we, niece?”

“Of course,” Rhaenyra answers and looks at Alicent. “We will not be joining you for lunch. I wish to show the kids around.”

“Make yourself at home.” Alicent nods politely, glaring at Argon before she sighs and reaches to grab Aemond’s arm. “Darling, don’t listen to them, alright?”

“Yes, Mum,” he nods, his fingers fidgeting behind his back. “Don’t worry.”

“Wow, Helaena, you are glowing.” Jace, you remember Hel telling you about him, approaches the two of you. “You look resilient—“

“Back off,” Aegon snaps, pushing himself off the wall, but Daeron is quick to wrap his arm around Aegon’s shoulders to keep him away from his nephew.

“Thank you, Jacaerys,” Helaena responds politely, but grins when she sees her cousins. “I’ve missed you two!”

Baela and Rhaena step forward, and your best friend lets go of your arm to hug the twins.

You glance at Aemond, finding him staring at his nephews while they greet him not-so-enthusiastically, and you take the chance to step in and comfort him with just having his back.

“Hi, I’m Helaena’s friend.” You shake Jace’s hand, but when you see his younger nephew smirking a bit too maliciously, you back off and stand next to Aemond.

“Yeah, I think I remember you!” Jace exclaims, smiling politely as he tries to engage in a conversation with Aemond, but he only replies with low hums and nods.

“I remember you too! At my uncle’s wedding, right?” The younger one whose name you do not remember says, reaching to shake your hand. “Lucerys, pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to see you.” You give him an awkward smile, remembering that he was the one who got into a fight with Aemond when they were kids, sighing when the images of that night play in your mind.

“Babe! Come, come, meet Baela and Rhaena!” You pat Aemond’s arm, lovingly mumbling a quick ‘later’ before you walk towards Hel and hug the twins quickly, enjoying how spiritual they are.

“How about we go and take a quick walk around the building? Maybe we can settle for a game or two!” Daeron says, clapping his hand as he tries to break the tension between his siblings and nephews.

“I’m gonna go for a ride,” Aemond announces, moving away without waiting for any response, but stops and looks at you. “Have you seen our stables?”

“The stables?” you ask quietly, and when Aegon nudges you from behind, you catch up on Aemond’s thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning. “No! No, I haven’t! I would love to though!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Aemond walks upstairs, and with an apology you bolt upstairs, following Aemond to his room so he can change, but he stops you and kisses you quickly when you are out of sight. “Wait here, we don’t want anyone to be suspicious, yeah? I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” You peck his lips again before pushing him inside the room gently. “Go, go, can’t wait to see you in your riding clothes!”

He only winks and smiles, shutting the door. He changes into his riding leather pants and black shirt, pulling on his knee high boots before he ties his hair in a ponytail.

“Fuck me.” You eye him when he steps out, biting your lip as you rest your palms on his chest, running them down his body as you ogle at his tight pants, enjoying how delicious he looks in his riding clothes. “Why have you been hiding this from me, handsome?”

“Because I knew how much of a pervert you are, darling.” You notice how less nervous he is now, and you kiss his jaw, pressing yourself against him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Glad you are aware of how much I like to fuck you, because right now, nothing seems as wonderful as making you hard in these clothes.”

“You’re a fucking tease,” he groans against your lips. “Stop torturing me.”

“Never. Now come on, I believe you owe me a tour of the stables!” you say, letting him pull you downstairs by the hand, looking around to see if someone is around before he leads you to another path. You walk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face as you walk hand in hand.

“This is my other lady,” he tells you as you walk through the stable, stopping in front of a black mare, running his palm over its long neck. “She doesn’t have a name, unfortunately. Nothing fits her.”

“She’s gorgeous.” He reaches for your hand, gently placing it on the mare’s back, rubbing it softly. “Will you bring her out now?”

“Would you like me to?”

“I would love it very much!” You step aside as Aemond pushes the wooden door open, grabbing his horse’s reins to guide her outside the stables, and you follow him, watching as he mounts the black mare, and bolts his horse to the field. Someone opens the fence for him and he rides through it.

You rest your hands on the fence, smiling at the sight of him rounding the field with his horse, sun shining bright on his silver hair, casting an angelic glow on his face. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

He smiles at you, stopping in front of you before he points for you to hop over the fence and you do hesitantly, stepping next to his horse.

“Come on, ride with me.” He reaches for your hand, pulling you up with ease, making room to help you sit in front of him. “I remember how scared you were the first time you caught me in our old stables.”

“Please, don’t remind me!” you laugh, throwing your head back on his shoulder. “It was horrendous! I nearly let your father’s stallion stomp on me.”

“Yeah, well, I saved you, so you can thank me for that,” he whispers in your ear, kissing the side of your neck. “Do you wanna step down? I feel you shaking.”

“I’m shaking because the amount of affection I have for you is too intense.” You crane your neck to look at him, and he pulls on the reins to stop the horse as he looks down at you.

“How bad is this affection?”

“So bad that I wanna kiss you in front of everyone.” He leans down, resting his forehead on yours. “Maybe later, yeah?”

“Yeah, you handsome idiot, now kiss me when no one is watching.”

He does kiss you, but unbeknownst to you, there is someone watching.

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fluff #🍊dreams

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drgnflyteabox · 12 hours

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red ochre [1]

part one -> minium || part two -> tbd

pairing: viking goap x fem! nun reader summary: you become the unlikely treasure of two vikings who raid your convent looking for gold w.c: 4.3k tags/warnings: religious themes (DLDR), minor suicidal ideation, mention of viking raids (slavery, violence, death), kidnapping, threats, dubcon bathing + touching, mean simon (ish), established goap, reader is underfed and beaten in the convent (corporal punishment), difficult travel, some food description

Near the coast the wind scratches at you when it blows, full of sand and salt.

Once, you'd imagined this as your calling; committed to asceticism, married to God, serving under the abbess. Enclosed, you find yourself stifled more than devoted, pressing your face to the stone barrier that blocks the convent from the outside world.

Isolation, never being quite full, the slow and steady stripping of your identity. This is your life - hollowed out, like meat sucked from a crab, cracked open and used and hollow.

You couldn't have predicted Christ to be such an inconsiderate husband.

"Girl!" the voice is the crack of a whip in empty air. You don't jump, but the hair on your body raises, the welts on your thighs sting.

"Yes, mother?" you put your chin down to your chest, turning, pressing your back to the wall. Demure, submissive, utterly devoid of fight. And still, her grip finds you hard as iron and rough as the rock you'd just been touching, pulling you hard enough to make your shoulder ache back toward the heavy wood doors of the dormitory.

"You shirk your duties again, child? Leave your sisters to pick up your slack?" you didn't mean to, truly. It's only that you ache so deeply you're afraid you might never recover from the feeling.

"Please forgive me, mother, I lost track of time," you murmur. Your uniform is damp from the spray outside, and you relish in the scent and feel of it. Freedom, that's what it is. "Allow me to make up for-"

"Hush!" spit touches your cheek. You don't wipe it away. "You'll finish the tapestry tonight. No matter how long it takes you."

Desperately, you wish for God to strike you down. If you're there, father. You close your eyes. Please, please kill me now.

He doesn't listen, and the abbess pushes you to supper.

Dark bread, boiled turnips, fish and wine. Average, filling, but you'd hoped for more of the crumbly white cheese from yesterdays supper.

You know not to complain. And truly, you are grateful. With your family, it had been gruel upon gruel, often bear, and rarely flavour. Salt kisses your tongue now, and the wine makes your sore muscles relax.

The monks have it harder; you'd visited them once as a girl with your father to pray, but there was still labour to be done here. Cooking was often your job, as was doing the washing and the tilling for the vegetable garden.

Today sister Colette had assigned you weaving so that you wouldn't be out of practice. The muscles in your back and fingers ached from it already, and dread made your stomach sour to the food you ate at the thought of more work.

Mealtimes were quiet, as required. The other women eat mousily, looking down at their plates and pulling their food apart into small little bites, trying to make it last. Obedience, poverty. How silly it was now that you'd dreamed of this.

"Sister?" a whisper, next to you. Margaret was almost a friend, too pious to really confide in but so kind it was impossible to ignore her. "What were you doing?"

"I felt compelled," you shrug, lips oily from the fish. "I felt confined."

"Oh sister," Margaret pushes her bottom lip out, dark eyebrows pulling up. "You should never feel confined here."

You knew, and yet you did. It was like living in a stone coffin. All the work felt pointless since your heart had strayed from God. Even now, touching Margaret's elbow to comfort her in her worry for you, you're sick to death of even clearing plates.

There was one secret they hadn't found. None of the sisters, not even the abbess, had found your secret booklet.

Paper was more valuable than gold since the church needed so much to copy and produce texts. The writing room at the very top of the convent, where you were so seldomly asked, was full of it and guarded by lock and key.

Over months, you'd scrounged, stealing enough to make a booklet. In it, you felt sustained. Free. Titillated, sometimes, when your hand found its way beneath your soft worn blanket under your shift and you drew indecent drawings of men coming to save you. Of the farmboys from your village.

They were nothing like real art, not so detailed, but they lit inside you a spark of life. Without them, you'd be snuffed out.

Candles line the hallway toward the workroom, where you'll likely spend the rest of the night. It's near the very entrance of the convent, so that visitors may see the sisters hard at work and find reason to donate.

Really, it's a temptation. Those massive doors, ready to open and let you free.

But what could you do, really? If God were a kind man and Christ a good husband, they'd turn you into a horse so that you might run, might feel your hooves beating the earth and the coarse air on your skin.

Regrettably human, you sit to work on the tapestry. Curse the abbess and let the holy father hear your thoughts. This is worse than hell, you think. Your fingers cramp and the chair is hard, flat wood. It's made to be uncomfortable on purpose, everything is. After you finish you only have a thin mattress to look forward to, even thoughts of drawing hunky carpenters doesn't draw you out of the misery that is embroidery in the dark.

Is this string strong enough to hold you, should you hang yourself? You're being dramatic, but you feel you've earned the right.

Footsteps walk down the hall towards you. They're sure, heavy. Maybe sister Catharine, tall and splendid, is coming to release you from torment?

"Hello," you say jovially. Please be sister Catharine.

"Look what we've got here, Ghost," it's a male voice. You freeze. The accent is unfamiliar. Had you missed the visit of a monk, an abbot, a priest? "Darlin' little lass, all by herself."

Shivers overtake you. It hurts to straighten from your hunched position, but you have to do it to see properly.

You come face to face with a skull, towering over you from the doorway.

A scream builds, filling your chest, hanging off the tip of your tongue.

Stopped only by the glint of candlelight against a blade, and the quickness of the another man reaching you.

You shake, all sound stuck in your throat, feeling arms as strong as petrified wood circle your arms and pull you toward the door. The pressure, the scrape of rock against your feet, it's unreal and barely registered against the terror that builds when you look to your left and see the skull, sewn into cloth, with the soft clank of bones hanging from his waist.

His eyes find yours, dead and mellow in the eyesockets, piercing through you. Blood rushes through your ears, deafening you, until you leave the room and reality sets in.

Devils, come to sack the convent.

Who will likely kill you and all your sisters. Even the abbess, with her punishment cane and severe face, doesn't deserve that.

You shriek, finding your voice, twisting like a cat in a bag. Their hands tighten against you, growling orders at you to be still, girl.

It's then that you hear the cries, the crashes. Sounds of chaos, a cacophony of harsh voices and the search of the convent. Some of the women weep, some pray, you scream.

"Hey!" Skull snaps, shaking you hard. "Behave and we won't kill you." You comprehend that, but the animal urge to struggle for your life still has a grip on you.

The other man twists towards you, lips snarling. "Ye want to die, then? I'm not opposed to slitting ye open throat to cunt, if that's what ye prefer."

You still, sag, mouth turning downwards in misery. Sweat sticks to your skin, from fear and exertion.

"Good girl," Skull says.

The nuns have been crowded back into the dining room, cowed and cowering, trembling lambs against the storm of awful armoured men ravaging the sanctity of the space.

Some have already found gold, crosses and busts of saints and reliquaries. The abbess weeps to see the bust of Mother Mary, thrown so roughly to the ground that baby Jesus snaps off.

You watch it all happening, eyes wide, shaking despite yourself. Adrenaline makes your legs cramp in their position, curled, back to back with another sister.

"Cap," a younger man runs up, hands full with an ornate chest. "What'cha think of this one?"

"Lookit this one," the man from earlier is giddy, slapping the young one on the back. He holds St Augustine, gilded in gold and jewels. "Not too shabby, eh, Gaz?"

"Not too shabby at all," Gaz grins back at him, turning towards the third man.

"Good job, boys," he says. He's mustached, tall, steadier and calmer than the rest. A leader, clearly.

It smells of smoke, or blood, but you can't see anyone bleeding.

Maybe that's their natural scent, violence clinging to them cloying like they'd bathed in it before coming.

"Soap," Gaz calls. He's run through the library, tossing shelves to the ground, taking one or two books. Walked through the dormitories, throwing open the chests at the ends of each bed. "Take a look at this one!"

A little booklet. Your booklet, tiny in the hand of the devil.

Anxiety crawls up your spine. There's no way they'd know it was yours, but you're still afraid of another kind of raiding, should they discover your sin.

The men laugh, looking with hungry eyes, glinting, mouths stretched and wet.

Look at the ground, be quiet, be still. You want to survive, you want to draw again and feel the air against your skin. You're scared of these men, huge and muscled as they are.

They wear furs, leather, clinking chainmail, wrapped shoes. Weapons hang by their sides and are clutched firmly in hands, though no nuns nor abbesses have been harmed.

Yet.

"Gold ain't the only treasure, eh?" Soap looks down at you while others use pillowcases for bags, stuffing their bounty inside with loud clangs.

His foot nudges your thigh, and you shift away as much as possible, still looking away, still scared.

Skull comes back. Soap calls him over and calls him Ghost, so you switch the name in your head.

Ghost is big, but he glides through the air.

"See that, Ghost?" Soap nudges him, the way he nudged you. Eyes crazed.

"Mm," Ghost grunts. He hasn't looted, not like the others. Just walked through the halls and gathered one or two other stray nuns shuddering in various corners. "You want 'er?"

You blanch, breath leaving you.

"Can we?" He looks back at you and leans down, thick fingers finding your chin, tilting your face up. "Pretty little hen, so scared, aren't ye?"

"Take 'er."

With Ghosts permission, Soap moves his fingers from your face to the meat of your arms, dragging you up, using your stupor to help him.

"Dinnae worry, hen, we'll take good care of ye," it's not reassuring. You think you feel your knees hitting each other from the force of your shaking. "Awe, don't cry."

Two rivers have sprouted form your eyes, tracking searing hot salt down your cheeks, hands twisting in your habit.

The men regroup. You were right about the mustached man being a leader, and learn his name is Price. He commands them like any armyman you've ever seen, clearly holds a lot of authority.

You're the only nun that's a part of the spoils.

The only one tied with coarse rope around the wrists, chafing, tossed between Soap and Gaz through the convent until you reach those big wooden doors.

Those doors you'd dreamed about opening, those doors that you dread opening now.

"Keep walking," Gaz says. He's mellower than the others, but you'd be a fool to underestimate him.

Or ask him for help.

Reality hasn't set. You're in purgatory, stumbling across the wet grass in just wool socks, growing wetter by the minute from mist and dew. The men hoot and cheer and clank their gold, throwing fists and weapons in the air.

A bloodless victory, unless they change their mind and decide to kill you.

Soap jumps, accidentally pulling you forward in a jerk that brings you to your knees. The tears come back, and the pebbles nearing the beach digging into your knees makes you sob.

"Careful!" Ghost barks. Behind you, he reaches under your armpits and helps you up. His hands are still rough, but he lets go of you quickly to yank the rope out of Soaps hands. It doesn't help that it's still near-pitch outside, not yet morning, hard to see.

"Ach," he rubs a hand behind his head, watching you cry and walk like a deadwoman. "Got a little over-excited, darlin. Forgive me."

"I'll be better to ye, don't worry," he falls in beside you, using a knuckle to brush away your tears.

When you reach the beach, you see a few boats, supplies, but that's all. No camp, nowhere to sleep. Did they jump straight from the boats, marching up the hill to the convent to pillage?

God, they're so big. Warriors. Why just you?

"Right," Price calls them to attention. You're stuck next to Ghost, sniffling, shivering a little, praying mentally for the first time in a long time. Dear God, please help me, please strike these men dead and let me run back up the hill.

You miss what Price says, whispering under your breath with your eyes closed and palms together until Ghost puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you forward again.

"Walk, then get on the boat," his voice is a growl.

"Dinnae worry," Soap chips in. "We brought meat."

They did - dried fish hangs like your laundry across each boats. The gold is loaded alongside you, stuffed to one side, and you're left trying to avoid the men tossing things in your direction.

Ghost ties your wrists to a wooden loop on the side of the boat.

It was built for this. For prisoners, slaves, taken in conquest.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Price shouts, the men answer. It's loud, a cacophony of voices and waves and the scrape of the boat against the sand.

You're going, going, gone. Floating. Adrift. Tied to the side of a viking ship with nothing but your thick, woolen habit and woolen socks. At least they provide some warmth, the air colder over the water.

Eyes look you up and down, not just from the two that took you. Gaz smiles to himself and punches Soap in the thigh, then they play wrestle.

You wonder what will happen to you- are you being taken as a slave? A prize?

The positive side to your time spend as a nun is that you know how to work, and you know that if something awful happens, you could find a way to meet God early and put yourself down.

Blood rushes in your ears again.

You register from somewhere outside of yourself that you're panicking again, caught wanting to run and having nowhere to do it. Tied down.

A hand touches your nape, and you turn with wild eyes and desperation all over your face to Ghost.

"Take a breath," he says, low enough that only you hear it, firm and commanding. "In and out, girl. Do it."

You do, if only to save yourself passing out. In and out, in and out, you breathe.

"That's it," he leans down, brown eyes finding yours. The skull is bleached yellow, old, but you try to ignore it. "You're alright."

"No I'm not," you shock the both of you by speaking, voice high and wavering. "I'm not, you're going to kill me or worse-"

"You think we'd take you just to kill you?"

"You're a heathen, aren't you?" you gasp again, wiping your face on the fabric of your sleeves. "Sister Catharine says heathens sacrifice virgins. Please don't."

He startles you by laughing, a ragged thing ripped from his chest.

"Not gonna sacrifice you, lamb," his hand squeeze your nape, his thumb rubbing the edge of your jaw where he can reach. "Gonna be a long journey, you'd better settle now."

It's hell. You were mistaken before, and you'd do anything now to go back to embroidery. You'd let the abbess cane you bloody, you'd kneel and pray with the passion of Christ himself if it meant you could come off the boat.

The boat, the men. The godforsaken fish, too-salty, not much better than the biscuits Soap insists on feeding you by hand.

"Your hands are tied, pretty lamb, how are ye gonna feed yourself?" He breaks it up, wiping crumbs from your cheeks.

You hope Ghost will step in, but he doesn't. He watches, a specter, still wearing that mask on his face. You wonder if it's because of you, or if he's just like that. Private, hidden. Intimidating.

"Open wide," Soap seems fond of holding your face, squishing your cheeks and puckering your lips. He's extra zealous since catching a sea-bird, keen on making you taste it.

The thought makes your stomach roil, despite being sick of the fish and biscuits. You turn your face, trying to avoid him, whimpering when he squeezes a little too hard.

"Come on, hen," he leans closer. "Fresh meat is good, no?"

"Johnny", Ghost saves you again, finally. Pulls on Johnny's shirt until he's sitting back on his heels. "Let her be."

"Awe, just wanna giv'er my catch, Si," if a heathenish, kidnapping devil could whine and pout like a child, it would look like this.

Horrific, is what it is. You tuck your face into your elbow and close your eyes.

You've been doing that most of the journey, closing your eyes and breathing deeply like Ghost taught you. Or Simon, what you've heard Johnny calling him.

Dread sneaks in every once in a while, wakes you up from fitful sleeps or seizes your ability to speak. Nobody else has spoken to you, not even Gaz who keeps glancing at you. Nobody but Simon and Johnny.

"Here," Simon says. You look up.

In his hand, an apple. Your eyes go wide, prickling, and you look even further up to him.

His eyes reveal nothing. Brown, flat.

"For me?" you ask.

"You see me offering it to anyone else?" from the corner of your eye, Soap is staring at you, smiling.

"I can have it?" an apple. You could dance. Days and days of travel after living in the same town and then the same convent to taken by force on a boar. An apple.

"Take it before I give it to Johnny," he grunts.

Suddenly, you feel a kinship with Eve.

Seasickness luckily doesn't affect you, and the melancholy is kept at bay by the apple. You think of it when you think you can't take anymore, remembering it's sweetness.

Simon becomes the safest person, and often if you feel scared your eyes find him.

When a minor storm rocks the boat, pelting rain, waves beating against the front, you tuck yourself close to his side and let Johnny take your hands into his.

Too easy to lean into them, to accept Johnny wiping your face gently with a cloth and eat fresh fish from Simons fingers. You're exhausted, and Simon doesn't push.

He just remains steadfast against chaos, even when Johnny fights with another one of the men and he has to pull them apart by their shirts.

"Si'down!" he barks, the loudest you've ever heard him. It makes you flinch, hiding again, until he sits heavily down beside you and you scoot as close as possible again.

"Not the smartest, are you?" he looks down. That hurts. You're just scared, is all. "Doesn't matter who's there, you'd cling right to them, wouldn't you?"

No, you want to say. But you just hide your face in your arms and cry again. You want to tell him the apple was special, that you know nobody else has one or got one, but you don't.

Your heart beats hard against your ribcage, that dread coming back again, feeling heavy and small under the weight of your predicament and his judgment.

"He didnae mean it," Johnny croons. He strokes your hair away from your face, thumbs finding your tense brows and smoothing them out. "We know you're a good girl. S'why we took ye."

You sniffle. The rocking of the boat has become both maddening and soothing.

You wonder when this journey will end.

Your clothes are stiff with salt, wetted and dried and re-wetted. Your skin itches, wrists burning, welts unhealed from before when the abbess has caught you sneaking mead.

She had accused you of indulgence, of trying to get drunk. Truthfully, you'd just liked the taste of honey and missed it.

Nuns didn't eat honey, at least not there. Cheese and wine were already over the top, God forbid anyone ate anything sweet. That's why you loved the apple, had held each bite long on your tongue, letting the sugars sit there a moment to savor them.

"Hey," someone nudges you, bringing you out of your half-sleep. Easier to be less conscious, less aware, trying not to feel your anguish and your physical pain. "Come on, get up. We're here."

"Hmm?" You're so tired, hissing and whimpering when your wrists are jostled.

Untied. They're being untired. Your head lifts too quickly, making you dizzy. Gaz is squatting in front of you, holding your leash.

"You awake?" he squints, tilting his head. "You look rough, sorry 'bout that. You good to stand?"

Too many questions. You're forced to lean on him heavily to try to stand. He's as solid as the others, just leaner. Kinder, honestly, as he mostly carries you off the longboat.

Muscles like a new foal, you take a seat on the soft wet sand and slump onto a crate. It's a struggle to walk on solid ground.

Men move around you, dumping and lifting and talking. Less excited than the last time they were on the beach, but there's still a buzz aflutter.

"Can I bring'er up?" Johnny is looking at you, his hand on Simon's forearm. Their affection is the quiet kind, something you only noticed the last couple days of the journey. Small touches, murmurs.

"Go ahead," Simon touches him back, moving towards Price when Johnny comes towards you.

"Awe, lamb," he coos, hauling you up with an arm around his shoulder. His other arm goes to hold your waist, squeezing. "Dinnae worry, I'll get ye in a bath soon 'nough."

He's not lying - after a painful, difficult walk, you make it to a wooden cabin. Looking around, there are a few of similar make, a little town.

"Go on in then, sweet hen," he pushes you just enough for you to shuffle your feet in the door.

Modest wooden furniture greets you, a one-room house with a large bed, fireplace, and table. The rest is beyond you once you spot the tub.

"Sit, let me get it ready for ye."

You nearly fall asleep, or maybe you do, because when you open your eyes Johnny has steaming water filled to halfway in the tub, wooden slats fragrant. He's crumbling a dried flower in as well, humming to himself.

"Alright, s'ready," he helps you up again. Modesty is forgotten, you're too tired and weary to care when he slips the woolen habit off and leaves you in a plain shift, finally untying your wrists. "Pretty girl." He says it under his breath, like he can't help it.

The water is better than the apple. You hiss when it touches your wounds, your sore muscles.

You're tired to your marrow, could weep about it, eyes still opening and closing. Around you, Johnny searches through various bags and chests until he finds a bar of soap.

The soap is better than the water.

"Feels good?" he whispers, dipping his hands in and lathering up. How he's up and about, you have no idea. Even his hands near your bare breasts don't phase you - that's how wiped you are.

"S'good," you mumble. "Thought I ws'gonna die."

"We wouldn't've let that happen, sweet girl. Too precious, our treasure," a kiss, on your shoulder. He rubs the soap on your skin, your arms and down to your fingers, washing them each one by one.

"N'ver want to do that again," and then, because you forget he's your captor. "Please."

The attention is soft, patient. The soap washes away salt and dirt and sweat, even tears when he wipes your face with a rag. This is a second baptism, a better one, with gentle hands massaging your scalp and the barest brush against your nipples.

"Sit up," he pushes you forward, rinses your hair, washes your back while you're there.

The rag swipes over your cunt when he gets there, once, twice, eyes boring into you. Your exhaustion mutes the squeeze of anxiety in your chest, closing your eyes to avoid his gaze.

"Right, all done," he helps you back out and into a long, thin shift.

The bed is soft, so soft, covered in furs and actually stuffed enough to cradle your body. You sink into it immediately, just barely registering the door opening again.

"She asleep?" It's Simon, carrying luggage.

"Aye," Johnny says. You hear them kiss, wondering if they think you're asleep. "Anything else?"

"No," he's gruff, to-the-point. Drops bags in the corner with a clank and a chest by the door with a thud. "She give you trouble?"

"Sweet as a lamb, our girl," he sounds proud.

You open your eyes, one last attempt at self-preservation, and see them looking down at you.

Simon swipes a thumb over your cheek, under your eye, still wearing the skull.

"It's alright, go to sleep," he murmurs. Johnny leans his head on Simons shoulder. "Perfect girl, knew we did good takin' you."

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liahaslosthermind · 2 days

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~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘 𝒐𝒇 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒍 ~

Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 3 of Betrayal Summary: With renewed purpose, Azriel heads to the library to see what he can get about resurrection spells. He also has to deal with a family intervention. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Hurt/No Comfort, Death of a loved one, Grief, Cheating, Betrayal.

Azriel raced to the library after giving Adelaide a goodbye kiss on the forehead, hoping it was the last time he would do so while she was dead.

He grabbed anything he could find on magic such as this, and scared the shit out of the priestesses in the process. He would usually take good care to show patience and nothing but kindness to them, but the desperation, lack of care, and now suddenly, hope, he couldn't bring himself to hide his feelings.

Azriel started to walk back to her room when he stopped by his door.

Maybe he should shower? Change clothes?

These weren't things Azriel cared to do much anymore. He kept himself from smelling, and changed every time he did so. But that was out of necessity, and he did it as fast as he could. It was never to make himself feel better or because he cared enough to want to.

It was a weird feeling in his chest when he put on the warm clothes the house had given him. Happiness? Fear? Hope?

He didn't know what it was. He couldn't really call himself happy, only two hours ago he was planning on taking his life, but he felt he could soon be happy, he now had a future to look forward to.

A future in which his best friend was once again by his side.

In other new developments, when Azriel's stomach made enough noise for him to truly realize how much he was starving, he decided he did want a proper meal, not just the scraps he had been forced to eat by his family because he otherwise wouldn't have done so.

It was the middle of the night, a time that usually meant it was safe for him to leave her room without being disturbed. His shadows would alert him if anyone had been there, but since he had come to the decision to take his life, they hadn't been speaking to him, certainly upset at his choices.

But they also didn't leave his side. They had been a constant companion these past 6 months. At first, he begged and begged them to leave him alone and while they would keep their distance when asked, they were never not only a few feet away, tucked into the corner of the room.

The hardest moments, when his chest felt like it was caving in from grief, they became a shield from the outside world, covering him and giving him a safe space. He could feel them providing a heavy weight upon his skin, not as to crush him, but to keep him grounded.

He had appreciated it, thanking them when he remembered to. But now, he cursed them out when he walked into the dining room to see his entire family sat at the table, staring at him, surprising him.

6 months ago, something like this would never happen. The Spy Master never allowed anyone to sneak up on him, to surprise him.

But he didn't feel like the Spy Master anymore.

"Sit, boy." Amren commanded. Not unusual of her to do so, but there was more in her tone than just snappiness. Hurt? Despair? Two emotions he rarely saw from her.

He felt his shadows nudging him to the empty chair at the head of the table. Where she used to sit, Rhysand at the other end, Azriel usually by her right side.

But his usual seat was taken by Gwyn, one of the priestesses he had become almost friends with before... everything. He would train with them sometimes and he would usually go to her when getting books for himself or Adelaide.

Despite the shadows' nudging, he didn't move an inch.

"What is this?" He asked, a thousand thoughts running through his head. Everyone looked... somber. Desperate. Angry.

"Please, Azriel" Elaine managed to get out before sobs left her mouth. While whatever they had in the past had faded, they remained good friends, thats why he finally sat down at the table with his family for the first time in months.

"Gwyneth came to us after you went to the library. She said- she said there was something wrong with you." Rhysand said, grief heavy in his voice. A rare occurrence, when the High Lord couldn't mask his emotions.

"No more than usual." Azriel snapped back. This was a waste of time, and he had not forgiven Rhysand for his actions, no matter how much his brother groveled, no matter how much Azriel knew he was mourning, no matter how ashamed he was of what happened.

How could he? When at the end of the day, Feyre was the one holding his hand and comforting him, while Adelaide, sweet Addie, was lifeless in a cold marble box.

"Your family said as much to me, but it was different, Azriel. I hadn't seen you in a few months and while I know this is a difficult time, I couldn't recognize you. There was, there was something else." Gwyn spoke up.

"I went to check on you in her room, expecting to see you in the same chair, but you weren't there, just a note in your place.'" Nesta explained.

Bury me with her, thats all I ask, that was Azriel's final request, his final message to his family, after 500 years together.

Sobs came from somewhere but he couldn't tell who it was. The ringing in his ears, the blurry vision, the feeling of his stomach dropping, it was all too much for him. He should have gotten that note the moment he came back.

Cassian, who was to Azriel's left, was shaking as he tried to stop his emotions from taking over his body, spoke in a soft and pained voice, "Nesta came back to us, holding the note and looking as if she- as if she'd seen a ghost. When she read it out, to us, Rhys and I winnowed to her resting place. You weren't there, the only sign you had been was your blanket, drapped over her. We thought- we didn't know if-" Cassian couldn't finish his sentence as Rhysand interupted him, seething with anger and hurt.

"Haven't we lost enough? Why would you do this, Az? Are you truly that selfish?" He screamed. He only stopped and took a breath when Feyre put her hand on his arm, trying to offer a comforting touch. He now spoke with a more level headed tone. "Why not talk to us, talk to me? I know you are upset and hurt by my actions. Gods know I will never forgive myself for the rest of my days, but I lost the woman I had loved my whole life. We both lost her, I- all I wanted to do these past 6 months was grieve with the one other person who loved and knew her as much as I." Feyre retracted her hand, clearly jilted from Rhys mentioning his love for another woman. "You didn't lose anything. You immediately had a replacement lover! I lost everything, and I had to stay by her side as she died, watching you betray her in her final moments. You are calling me selfish for wanting to end my life, but you would have been in the same position had you not had your mate to eagerly take her place." He spit out the word mate in disgust. He had spent his whole life wishing for a mate, but seeing all the pain they seemed to cause, he now wished to never have one.

He had liked Feyre, initially. She hadn't been anything but kind to him, but she jumped at the chance to be Rhys' one and only, and the few weeks before Adelaide had died, Feyre had acted as if she had claim to the High Lord. As if a mating bond could undo centuries of love.

But Azriel guessed it could, seeing as she was now warming his bed.

"Azriel," Cassian spoke up, trying to stop him from saying what he was about to.

"No! Fuck this. You were replacing her as she was dying. Don't talk to me about how much you are mourning her. If you ever feel even a sliver of the misery I have felt for the past 6 months, it would kill you. And I hope it does."

"Azriel!" Feyre yelled, shocked at how he could speak this way to his oldest friend.

He turned to Feyre, finally addressing her for the first time in half a year, "I know you aren't, you are too self centered to, but I also hope you feel shame and disgust every second you spend with him. I hope it eats you alive and you grow to hate yourself because of it. I wish you nothing but a long and unhappy existence."

"How dare you speak to your High Lady like that." Rhysand screamed. In 500+ years, Azriel had heard him yell like that but never had it been directed at him.

The world simultaneously stopped turning for everyone in that room as it sunk in what he just said. What he just revealed. All Azriel could do was look at his family, seeing each of them not surprised at the information, but ashamed, and disgusted, and scared at what was to happen next. They all knew.

"What?" he said, with as much venom and hatred in his voice it was a shock the High Lord didn't fall dead because of it.

Rhysand was now pale, apologetic. He knew he had fucked up, and he had fucked up hard.

Swallowing his guilt and fear, Rhysand tried to calmly explain, more care in his voice than before: "A few months ago, Feyre and I accepted the bond. We then immediately married. It was a secret and intimate affair, no one else but the officiant and us two. I then declared her as my High Lady."

Silence, as they all awaited the Shadowsinger's response. He didn't move for several moments, but his shadows became thick and heavy, almost suffocating everyone in the room. The High Lord and the General had seen him do this, but that was when he was about to torture someone, as he was about to hurt someone who he hated.

Using his wings to propel him forward, Azriel launched himself at his brother, intent on giving him a slow and painful death.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #rhysand x oc #rhysand x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand #feyre #cassian #elain archeron #nesta archeron #azriel x oc #acotar angst #~ lia's betrayal series ~

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luvyeni · 1 day

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MODERN DAY ROMEO AND JULIET ,, 이희승

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ you're becoming such a drug to heeseung ヾ

BADBOY!이희승・ FEM!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎4.1k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️content warning. corruption kink , oral sex ( male & female receiving ) , smoking , unprotected sex

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 after many many many MANY requests , here's part two to the sinner and the sin ... 「 read part one here 」

it was safe to say your parents weren't happy with your little escape — no upset wasn't the word to use; at some point you believed you parents were ready to send you an all girls boarding, you saw the pamphlets on the table; you almost ran away from home again that night.

they took away everything; not like you had much to begin with — but you did have the phone heeseung gave you, they didn't know about it so keeping it hidden was easy; at first , before the bedroom checks , then you resorted in hiding it in between your mattress and box spring.

seeing heeseung was even harder now , since your parents tracked your every move— his parents wouldn't even look at your parents , they were so ashamed of what they thought their son did; and your parents allowed them to believe such; they didn't want the church to find out and think differently of not only you but their parenting.

it was definitely a challenge, but you and heeseung made it work — it took a lot of sneaking around and you learning how to climb out of your bedroom window in ‘one of your cute little dresses’ heeseung liked to call them, just to make you blush.

you remembered the first time you snuck out of your bedroom window; it was after your sister caught heeseung in your room , and told your parents , which resulted in nightly check-ins. so there you were at 1 am in the morning , climbing out of your window , heeseung at the bottom “encouraging you” — more like looking up your dress as you trembled in fear. “baby you got this , just go slow.” he said, which made you scoff , a whimper following. “of course you want me to go slow , so you can see under my dress.”

that made him snicker; holding his arms up. “come on princess, you got this , just jump.” he said. “i'll catch you, i promise.” so you did, jumping off the roof , straight into his arms. “see , i caught you.” he whispered in your ear. “didn't i tell you i was going to.” he held you in his arms. “you sure your parents didn't catch you.” you nodded. “they're sleeping and my sister is sleeping over at a friend's house.” he held your cheek in his hands. “good , let's go!” he held you in his arms, running down the to his car. “heeseung slow down!” you shrieked , giggling as he lowered you on the hood of his car. “maybe we should just do it right here.”

you cheeks heated up at his straight forward and crude language. “we’re in public.” you bit your lip. “oh but princess , that's the best part.” he bit your cheek. “stop it.” you pushed him away, legs shivering from the cold. “im cold.” you said. “oh we definitely can't have that can we?” he helped you off the hood of the car , opening your door. “what a gentleman.” he tipped his head. “only for you.”

“so where are we going?” you asked once he got into the driver's seat. “somewhere safe don't worry.” his hands found your thigh. “just enjoy the ride like always.”

that night you didn't only learn how to jump off the roof of your house — you learned how to do something else , something that only heeseung could teach you. “do you like…” you started gaining the attention of your boyfriend. “like what baby?” the radio low , your window down so you don't inhale the smoke that he was smoking. “you know doing it with me?” you picked at your nails , the man in front of you. “you mean fucking you?”

“yo-you didn't have to say it like that.” he smirked, taking another puff. “that's what it's called, baby.” he said. “but he's , i love it so much , so fucking much that im risking your dad calling the sheriff every time im with you.” he said. “well i just feel like you do so much and i just lay there…” you frowned. “you lay there and take it like a good girl.” you blushed. “just how i want you to be , why are you asking me this?”

“well jake asked me something a few nights ago.” heeseung knew it was a bad idea to have jake pick up , but sunghoon was busy. “what did that dumbass say?” he said. “he asked had i gone down on you.” you said. “and i told him i didn't know what that meant.” you clutched his jacket around your arms. “he told me to ask you.” you looked at him with such confusion , he wanted to punch jake , but secretly buy him all the beer and weed the boy could ask for — because fuck he was waiting for you to ask him this. “so what does it mean?”

“it means when you take those sweet little lips you use to kiss me here.” he reached over , kissing your lips , you smiled as he pulled away , his eyes much darker. “and wrap them around my cock.” he smirked as you pulled away with wide eyes. “an-and that feels good?” he blew a puff of smoke , nodding. “the best feeling in the world , besides you know being inside you.” you slapped his arm , still a little sore from the recent tattoo he had gotten — a butterfly, your favorite. “don't say it like that.”

he laughed , you pouted. “baby you want to learn how to suck me off?” you gulped. “will you teach me?” he nodded , his already hard in his pants. “fuck of course i will baby.” he said. “as long as you don't go around using it for other dudes.” you gasped. “of course not.” you said. “never.” he smiled , throwing the butt of the cigarette out the window into a puddle. “good girl , you should only use anything i teach you for me only.”

you waited for his move. “pretty girl , let's move to back seat, don't want to hurt your pretty tummy.” you obey, quickly climbing in the back seat , flashing the boy. “fuck okay.” he followed behind you. “now you don't have to take all of it this time.” he said , lifting his hips up , pulling his pants down along with his underwear down. “i know it's probably a lot for you to take.” his cock standing tall , mushroom head red and leaking with pre-cum. “fuck you keep staring baby , you're drooling.” you looked at him with wide innocent eyes. “baby I'm gonna burst if you look at me like that.” he gave his cock a few tugs. “fu-fuck , you wanna learn how to please me princess?”

you nodded , your eyes trained on his cock , of course you've taken him before , but it was so much more intimidating knowing he was going into your mouth. “good girl , ready?” you whimpered. “wh-what do i do?’ he brought his free hand to your cheek , running his thumb across your bottom lip. “open up baby.” pushing his finger inside. “now suck.” he groaned , watching you suck his thumb , you've never sucked him off before , but if was anything like that he was sure he wasn't gonna last. “good fuckin girl , now all you have to do is do that to my cock.”

pulling his thumb out of your mouth. “touch it baby , with both hands.” your hands replacing his hand. “now.” he grabbed the back of your head. “follow my lead.” he lowered your head until you were face to face with his cock. “you look so pretty down there baby , open up that pretty mouth.” you obeyed , opening your mouth. “now wrap those sweet lips around the head of my cock.”

the moan he let out when he felt your velvety lips on his tip sent a shock wave of pleasure to your lower region. “suck it baby , like those lollipops you love so much.” groaning when you did exactly that. “oooh fuck , like that.” he hissed. “now try and take more inside.” he let you set the pace , slowly lowering yourself on his cock , he could already feel the back of your throat and he wasn't even fully inside you. “yeah , fuck , now move your head up and down.” he instructed. “don't use your teeth though , yeah good girl.”

his head thrown back in bliss as you got the hang of it , bobbing your head up and down on his length. “oh fuck you seriously haven't done this for anyone?” he was glad he was you first in anything , he could mold you into the perfect slut for him. “all this for me?” you moaned around his cock. “fuck you doing all this just to please me?” you tried to take more of him , only to gag , drooling around the base of his cock. “oh fuck baby , don't do that , gonna cum too soon.”

tears streaming down your face, his hand slowly guiding you. “fuck baby , gonna cum.” he groaned. “i need you to get off of you don't want me to cum down that tiny throat of yours.” you in fact didn't get off of him , you kept sucking him off. “sh-shit baby , you want to cum in your mouth , nasty girl , where's my innocent baby gone.” he hissed. “fuck im cumming.” you tried to take him but he was cumming too much , you pulled off of him with a pop! coughing and teary eyed. “you looks pretty.” he pushed the remnant of his cum off your lips into your mouth. “good girl , you took my cock like a pro.”

you smiled , lips swollen. “did you like it hee?” he tucked himself away , pulling you into his lap. “i fucking loved it baby.” he said. “i definitely can't let you go now.” he said. “can't let anyone know you have these skills , need to only be used for me okay?” you nodded. “okay.”

you looked at the clock. “i have to go back soon , my parents will wake up.” you frowned. “i don't know when the next time i’ll see you again.” he caressed your cheek. “we made a way tonight and before , we'll make a way again i promise.” he kissed you. “okay.” you said. “good girl , now lay down.” he said. “why?” you asked , he didn't say anything , just laying you down in the backseat. “did you really think i was gonna let you go like this , all dripping for me.” you whimpered out his name. “gonna eat then fuck this little pussy before sending you back home.”

safe to say you made it back home and back into your bedroom , and in bed right before your mother came in to check on you.

you pulled out your phone , a message for heeseung already waiting for you , to make you smile before you finally shut your eyes.

that was the last time you saw him; which was about 2 weeks ago , and it was killing you inside. “why are you so depressed?” you sat at the table, eating breakfast; it was sunday, church day. “your mother and father are ruining my life.” you picked at your food. “by not letting you hang around bad influences , sure we're ruining your life.” your mother said. “just be grateful we got you away from him before it was too late.” you rolled your eyes. “i can't wait until i move out of this hell hole.”

the drive to the church was boring and uneventful; that was until you pulled into the church house. “all we want is the best for you.” you dad said. “that lee boy is nothing but trouble , and will lead you down a dangerous path.” your father said. “whatever , im just counting down the days until im free.” you stepped out the car , making sure to slam the door to formally express your anger with your parents.

heeseung no longer came to church , his parents giving up on him , the church no longer welcoming him. “let's sit down.” your mother guided you to the front where you always sat , your parents greeting everyone else. “hey.” you heard a voice behind you , making you turn around. “jay?” you furrowed your eyebrows. “what are you doing here.” he pointed to your where your parents and his parents were talking. “you're not the only one that has to keep up with appearances.”

“have you talked to heeseung?” he asked. “only on the phone , i haven't been able to get out , my parents are really cracking down.” you frowned. “don't worry i got you.” he said. “what do you mean?” he smiled. “just follow my lead.” he sat down , your parents joining you soon after. “this is mrs. and mr. park.”

you bowed politely. “nice to meet you.” you smiled. “oh what a polite girl.” mrs. park complemented. “that is jay.” his mother pointed out. “mother we go to the same school.” he said. “i know who she is.” she chuckled. “i hope she is doing well in school.” your mother said. “she recently went through a rough patch a few weeks ago.” you rolled your eyes. “oh i heard it, so awful what that heeseung boy did to her , you must've been so scared.” you opened your mouth. “actually— we're just glad it's over , now she can focus on her studies.”

“speaking of studies, me and yn have a test coming up.” jay said , you turned to him. “we do?” he looked at you. “oh yeah , it was for history i think , super big test.” you never know how good you were at lying until you met heeseung; after that it seemed like that's all you were doing. “oh there's a nice cafe they can study at.” his mother said. “that's quite fine , just be home by midnight.” so quick to allow you to go with jay when she thought he was a nice church going kid…

you sat through the sermon , so ready for it to be over. “hey try and pay attention, you don't have that long.” jay whispered , you nodded , still unaware about what he was talking about.

soon the sermon was over; you stood up , stretching your stiff body. “yn.” jay came over to you. “you ready to go?” he held his hand out. “huh?” he looked at your parents who was talking to his parents once more. “you wanna go see your boyfriend right?” you smiled. “really?” he nodded, holding his hand out. “let's get you out of here.” he said , you grabbed his hand , making your way over to your parents. “well don't you two look adorable?” your mother said , you rolled your eyes. “we're gonna go now.” your parents nodding. “midnight yn.”

jay let your hand go as soon as you were out of your parents eyesight. “don't tell heeseung , he'll kill me.” he said, opening his car door for you. “where are we going?” you asked. “well my parents are home , so i can't have you two there , luckily sunghoons parents aren't home , his house is just as nice.” he got into the driver's seat. “it's only a few minutes away , your boyfriend is already there , he stays there when my parents are home and his parents are up his ass again.”

the ride to sunghoons was quiet , and short , but your hand shook with anticipation; it was only two weeks , but it felt like eternity to you. “we're here.” jay said. “that was fast.” he nodded, turning the car off. “you know , he really cares about you.” he said. “really?” you blushed. “i’ve never seen him climb into a window for a girl before.” you smiled , getting out of the car. “i really like him.” you said. “yeah i kinda figured that when you ran away from church , we've been going to the same school for years and i've never seen you do something even remotely as bold.” he said opening the door. “go ahead , they're all in there.”

“jay is on his way over.” heeseung sat slumped in his chair. “he had to do something with his parents.” heeseung looked at his phone. “bro she's probably in church , it is sunday.” jake said. “it's been two weeks since i saw her , her fucking parents are so strict.” he hissed. “i can't even see her in class , because her fucking friends keeping her away.” heeseung felt like he was losing his mind , he never felt this way before about someone — it was almost painful that he wasn't near you , you were his new drug and he was going through withdrawals.

“jesus i've never seen you so down bro , give it time , you'll see her real soon.” the door opening. “that must be jay now.” sunghoon said. “we're in here jay.” heeseung looked down at his phone. “oh isn't this a nice surprise?” heeseung looked up , swearing his eyes were deceiving him. “yn?”

you smiled seeing the boys face after two weeks. “heeseung.” he stood up from his chair , running over to you. “oh my god , you're here.” he hugged you. “jay helped me.” you said , heeseung gave the boy a handshake. “thanks bro.” jay nodded. “i have to get her home by midnight.” heeseung was squeezing yours. “that should be enough time to do whatever you want.” before jay could even heeseung was dragging you up the steps. “hey modern day romeo and juliet, the room to the left , please don't use my parents bedroom to fuck.” he yelled. “don't use mines either!” you giggled as heeseung dragged you up the steps. “heeseung slow down.”

he turned , grabbing the sides of your face , kissing you. “i missed you so much.” he said in between kisses. “fuck two weeks is too fucking long without seeing you.” he said. “never gonna let that shit happen again.” he was kicking the bedroom open , pulling you inside. “i-i missed you too.” you stuttered , he sat down on the bed , you standing in between them. “it was so hard not seeing you.” he smirked. “yeah baby , how hard?” you chewed your bottom lip. “come on, pretty talk to me , let me hear that voice.”

“so hard.” you sat down in his lap , wrapped your arms around your waist. “yeah?” he kissed your neck. “he-hee.” you moaned. “you missed me that much baby?” he sighed , his tattooed hand coming up to your boob, squeezing. “you're moaning so prettily for me , i barely even touched you precious.” he chuckled in your ear. “you've been waiting for the next time i fucked you?”

“ye-yes please.” you whimpered, subconsciously grinding against him. “oh fu-fuck baby , lay down.” he said. “need to taste you before i fuck you.” you climbed on the bed , eyes doe like and blown out as he hovered above you. “so cute baby , your little innocent eyes , i know you're not that innocent anymore.” he kissed your neck. “my little sinner aren't you?”

his hands lifting up your dress , revealing your panties. “so pretty baby.” he smiled. “so ready to be eaten , i bet you're real sweet for me.” he spread your legs. “it's so messy in between here baby , just a few touches got you so wet for me.” he pulled your panties down , laying on his stomach. “such a pretty pussy baby.” you gasp feeling his lips on your thighs. “you smell so nice.” your clit swollen. “pl-please heeseung.”

you moaned , feeling him licking up your folds. “so sweet , like candy.” he groaned , pressing his face against your mound , eating you like he had been starving. “oh my god , heeseung please!” you gasped , pulling at his locks. “fe-feels so good.” you moaned , his thumb coming up to your clit , rubbing the neglected bud. “so good baby , so fucking good.” you grinded against his face. “keep doing that baby.” his voice muffled. “keep fucking my face , make yourself cum.”

you gasped , yanking his hair as tight as you could , your legs closed around his head as you came. “oh my god!” he didn't even care about the lack of oxygen , just getting you to your climax. “oh fuck.” he pulled away breathlessly , giving your clit little kisses , watching you twitch. “good girl , good girl cumming so well for me.” he kissed the inside of your thighs. “fuck baby , im so hard right now.”

“bet you that pretty pussy missed me didn't it?” he freed himself from his pants , his cock in need to be touched. “thought about fucking you for two weeks.” he groaned , stroking his cock. “jerking off to the thought of your tiny little cunt wrapped around my cock just isn’t enough.” he pressed his tip against your hole. “need to feel it.” you moaned as he slowly slid himself inside you , both of you moaning. “fuck that's it baby , swallowing my cock like a good girl.”

he pulled out , his tip nestled inside you. “take it all for me.” he slammed back inside you. “hee!” you shrieked , clutching his arm as he began to pound into you. “fuck precious , tiny cunt is so good.” he grunted. “hee-heeseung you're so big.” you moaned out loudly , your hands lifting up his shirt , his toned stomach on display. “yeah baby? you can take it right , you always take my cock so well.”

it felt like he was consuming your every being , his scent sticking to you. “oh baby gonna take of you baby.” he groaned. “gonna take you away from here.” he whispered in your ear. “would you like that?” he said. “leaving this stupid city and going somewhere just me and you?” your brain fuzzy , you nodded to whatever he was saying. “pl-please heeseung , take me away from here.” you moaned. “please.”

his thrust became faster , his hair covering his face , sweat dripping from his body. “not much longer , fuck.” he cursed. “just after graduation,” he said. “gonna give you a good life.” he hit the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “heeseung I'm gonna cum.” you screamed. “cum for me precious , cum all over my cock.” he howled out. “fucking cum.”

your back arched off the bed as you came. “oh my god!” you shrieked. “fuck baby im cumming!” he moaned. “gonna cum.” he thrusted a few more times. “shit!” he pulled out of you , just as he was cumming. “fuck we made such a mess.” he moaned , his white sticky substance , covering your cunt. “fuck this is what falling in love is…” you giggled. “is it?” he leaned in kissing you. “yeah it is.”

you guys spent those sacred few hours in bliss , holding each other , your fingers tracing his tattoos , all alone in your own world — until you had to once again face the inevitable , even then heeseung couldn't let you go. “once you graduate im gonna follow behind you.” he said. “or you could graduate with me.” jay laughed in the front seat. “it's a little too late for that , i have some money saved up , just for a place , i can get a job.” he said , you smiled. “you really thought about this?”

“since the day i saw your little pink bra at the church that day.” you slapped his chest. “stop bringing that up.” you smiled. “i love your plan.” of course it had a lot of kinks and needed a lot of work , but it was a plan. “of course it needs work , but we have time for that , just worry your pretty head about other things.” he said. “with what?” he smirked. “church.”

as you approached your house , he hid in the back seat so your mother wouldn't see him , you giggled. “you look ridiculous hee.” he smiled , you got out of the car , waving goodbye to jay. “bye heeseung.” you couldn't help but laugh at the man crouched down below , blowing him a kiss.

“my precious girl…”

©LUVYENI translations to other sites prohibited, reblogs are appreciated but not forced !

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jinnie-ret · 3 days

Text

placebo

stray kids x hybrid!ninth!reader (fem)

genre: light angst, mostly fluffy

content warnings: small swearing, mention of disease, mention of vaccination

word count: 1.8k

summary: the boys are shocked at how your hybrid features present themselves when you are feeling particularly emotional

requested: @shua-f4lmings

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

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How could it ever work being a Kpop idol when you were forced to hide a part of our identity every day? Well, you managed somehow. Despite the fact that you were a hybrid, JYPE still accepted your audition and allowed you to become a trainee. You felt fortunate that you didn't face direct discrimination from the company, considering you were part of a rare few, an experimental collective, of children that had turned into hybrids against their will. You see, there had once been terrible news of a new outbreak of an autoimmune disease breaking out, during your childhood, so when a vaccination was created, your parents had rushed at the opportunity to make sure you were safe. Little did you know, did anyone know, that it was in fact a scam. The disease - a hoax. The vaccination - contained a serum that caused you to experience genetic mutations and develop physical attributes very similar to a cat, all because of some deceiving scientists that wanted to experiment.

Luckily, you had learnt to love yourself and your feline features. Your fluffy black ears that helped your hearing become more sensitive, and perhaps even more attuned to music, your tail that would swish and perk up anytime you saw your members or somebody you loved, these all became things that you appreciated. It truly showed your strength and determination to not let anybody get you down, particularly when you used to feel like the black sheep, or, black cat, of the family.

You remember that it was not too long after Chan had gathered you all together as a unit, pre-debut, that you decided to reveal this side of you. After all, you could only wear baggy sweatshirts and beanies for so long.

"Guys, can I tell you something?" you spoke up after you were all sat evaluating a dance practice.

"I think we really should practice this dance again, can it wait?" Chan pondered, not wanting to miss any rehearsal time, especially since the new TV debut show was on the horizon.

"Please, it's important," you had urged them all, your future group members, not wanting to withheld this information from them for any longer.

"Ok, sure," Chan nodded and turned his phone off, before everyone was looking at you as you stood up.

"Is everything ok?" Hyunjin frowned.

"Yeah, I just want to share this side of myself to you. I've not been honest," you began, confident in yourself, just unsure about what their reactions would be.

"If we're going to be a group..." Changbin tilted his head.

"-that's why I'm telling you now! Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. Umm," you apologised, feeling guilty.

"It's ok," Changbin nodded, seeing the weight of the situation in your eyes.

"Please can you just tell us? The suspense is killing me," Jisung groaned, whining after when Minho smacked him on the back without even looking.

"I don't know how to say it so..." you had taken a deep breath before pulling your beanie off, ruffling your hair back into plsce and ultimately revealing your ears. It had seemed like some sort of headband at first, but seeing the way your ears twitched and pointed at sharp intakes of breath or gasps in the room, showed that they were very real.

Poor Felix was incredibly confused. It was hard enough for the Australian boy to follow the conversation, and even harder to make sense of things as he saw your fluffy cat ears on top of your head.

"What the-" Jeongin's jaw dropped.

"Why are your ears moving like that..." Seungmin was astonished.

"I'm a cat hybrid. There was an experiment gone wrong a while back, masked as a 'cure', a vaccination, when really it was an experiment. So, umm, yeah, I'm sort of like a test subject.." you trailed off as Chan came to stand in front of you, raising his hand slightly.

"Can I touch your ears?" he questioned, which honestly wasn't what you were expecting. Instead, you thought it was time for him to go into his words of wisdom mode, but really even he couldn't avoid his own curiosity, as he waited for your response.

"Oh, yeah sure," you shrugged, a smile working it's way into your face as you felt a soothing scratch and pat to the head. It was so relaxing that you shut your eyes for a moment.

And when you opened your eyes...

"My turn! My turn!" Han was suddenly in front of you, Seungmin and Jeongin surprisingly waiting too.

"Wow, so cute!" Hyunjin was looking at you with the biggest heart eyes, and you could also lightly hear Chan explaining to Felix what had just transpired.

"Cute, haha," Changbin chuckled, stood next to you and observing your reactions.

"So you guys don't find it weird then?" you laugh as you ask, knowing that they were entranced.

"No! Never!" Seungmin shook his head.

"Me?" Felix came up behind Seungmin, half hugging his arm before asking permission to also pet your ears.

"Yes," you smiled reassuringly at the shy Felix.

The only one of the boys who hadn't interacted with you after you revealed your big secret was Minho, and perhaps that was because he simply couldn't comprehend that his fellow band member he had naturally grown protective over was also part cat. His favourite animal by a mile.

"I knew there was something feline about you," Minho hugged you tightly, the only one not to go straight for the ears.

"That's all the approval I needed."

Post revelation, you were able to feel even more relaxed around your members at the dorms, and wow, when they saw your tail, to be frank, they lost their shit. That was a story for another day though. You had more important things to think about them, such as the meeting that had been scheduled with the company before filming began. Understandably, in your opinion, they had found some medication, hybrid suppressants, that would hide your features. Some people would have been offended by the gesture but in reality, you were relieved. You just wanted to debut and you didn't want to take any attention away from the boys with your obvious differences in genetics. Although the first day of taking the pills felt rough, especially with your body having to withdraw physical features, you went through with it, initially explaining to the boys that it's what you wanted. Whether they believed you or not at the time, you weren't sure, until today...

"No way!" you gasped, clutching the blanket for dear life as you sat up from your comfy spot curled up on the sofa. Once again, you had chosen to use your vacation off from work as a chance to binge watch your favourite show, and finally, you had made it to the end.

"Don't roll credits, don't roll credits, don't- NO!" you cried out in disbelief. As if they had just killed off your favourite character. You sobbed, curling into yourself, ears flat against your head and tail curled up against you, like you were trying to protect yourself from the TV screen even though you had already turned it off and thrown the remote away from you in distress.

You hadn't realised that your hybrid features had popped out, not that it would be a problem as you were on break, but you must have forgotten to habitually take your tablets, the ones you bad taken the previous day finally wearing off. Even with the box being on the coffee table in front of you, the idea had left your mind.

It was long forgotten now.

It was a pitiful sight, the way you were trembling as you cried, but with your physical hybrid features also came mental ones, emotional ones, instincts that you couldn't help but follow. That emotional attachment that cats found with their people, happened to you and your favourite TV show. You felt hurt, betrayed, distraught.

"Rori?" Minho was the first to call out in concern, as the boys piled in from their outing at the beach. Yes, Rori, that was your stage name. It was a running joke between you all that Minho adopted Dori and her namesake was because of you. They weren't that dissimilar right?

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Felix called out in confusion, still taking off his sandy shoes by the front door. The boys had wanted you to come along with them, but you hated water, and would much rather laze around in the comfort of your own home.

"Aigoo, your tail is all fluffy," Jeongin patted your head, yet you continued to cry. The eight boys looked between each other in confusion until Jisung spotted the medication on the table and looked at Chan pointedly, hoping he took would connect the dots he had just found.

"Oh, Rori, we thought you didn't like taking the, it's ok. It'll be ok, we'll sort this," Chan rubbed your back gently.

"We can announce it to the fans," Hyunjin suggested, and the others nodded along.

"We'll have a word with the company," Changbin added, their plan already formulating before your very eyes.

"They'll still love you," Jisung didn't like seeing you cry.

"They won't care, you're still the same person," Seungmin spoke up, last to enter the room. He had soon caught onto the situation though, only after rinsing his feet from the sand that lingered. He couldn't barely the itchy feeling.

"What are you talking about?" you sniffled, lifting your head out from your arms and your ears lifted in curiosity.

"Aren't you sad because of, you know, having to take the tablets...?" Chan was confused, so much so that his hand had even stopped it's comforting motions on your back.

"No!!" you cried out, tail fluffing up even more, irritation flaring up ever so slightly as you wished you didn't have to explain yourself. It would much easier if these humans just knew what you wanted!

"Oh," Minho pursed his lips in thought.

"Then what's wrong?" Jeongin urged, eager to hear what was truly wrong.

"-died! It's not fair! They were my favourite and they were so kind and-" you whimpered tearfully, already having flashbacks of the final episode you and just watched.

"It's because of a show?!" Felix rose his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back to try and see your whole face.

"Really?" Seungmin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's not just a show!!!" you wailed louder, tail swishing now as you felt a mix of sadness and annoyance.

"Ok it's not just a show, we know that, chill, kitty," Jisung patted your head but Minho nudged him warningly, knowing you didn't like that nickname.

"Ji-" you huffed.

"But it's definitely not because of the suppressants, right?" Changbin cut you off, which was annoying at first, having being interrupted twice in a row, yet you were appreciative of the change in topic.

"No, no, I don't care about taking them. I'm fine with that," you took a deep breath and wiped your remaining tears away, "I just might need 2-3 business days to recover."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 2 days

Text

I'm not one to police how "dark" people should make their fan content, or to act like there's something morally wrong with making a character go through hardship or with having a kink, but man, there sure is a noticeable pattern in how zutarians imagine Katara.

Every attempt to "empower" her always comes with some for of humiliation, violence, trauma or loss of identity.

No one is allowed to love her and treat her well. Not her dad, not her brother, not her friends, not her canon love interest. She needs to be just babysitter/cinderella to them. She needs to be made to feel lonely, isolated, disregarded and unloved until Zuko shows up to the rescue.

Gone is her strong connection to her tribe, that made her want to honor it even when she was traveling the world like she dreamed of. Instead she'll long to be part of the nation that almost erased her culture, commited genocide against her people and killed her mother. Gone is her right to be mad at them for it, even though she canonically always stops herself from letting that anger cross the line into blind hatred.

Instead SHE is the one who needs to learn a lesson on "not judging people just because they're different", and making them learn basic empathy towards someone they see as "other" is no longer on them, or on the guy that literally stepped up for that role of his own free will. Nope, that burden should be on Katara's shoulders instead. It's her job to convince the racists that she is, in fact, a human being and deserves to be treated like one.

And she should always be wearing red instead of the colors of her tribe, her children should grow up in the Fire Nation palace, preparing to inherit that throne (aka their father's legacy), and any waterbender she gives birth to will absolutely be taught bloodbending as that is supposedly Katara's legacy - even though she never wanted to learn it and refuses to use it 9 times out of 10 because she finds it immoral AND it is a source of trauma for her, as it was used by a predatory adult to violate her body.

She should not be "Just the Avatar's girl" and "Aang's reward" (even though she was always her own damn self before anything and their romance was a "reward" to both of them), but instead should be just the Fire Lady - after all, in their eyes, Zuko "deserves her more" and that's somehow Not The Same.

Gone is her right to remain a kind, compassionate soul. Instead she needs to let anger consume her and push her to do things she finds morally wrong, like murder or bloodbending, because she needs to hate pacifism so she can hate Aang by proxy.

In fact, Aang should be made to be the REAL source of oppression and violence in her life (combined with her tribe and family of course).

Compassion should no longer be something they both believe in, it should be an idea Aang tries to force into her head. The scars on her hands after he accidentally burns her should be permanent, not healed by Katara herself, to make her more of a victim (with "parallels" to Zuko) and Aang more of a bastard. Aang not wanting to let go of her should be a result of obsession and entitlement, not a combination of his own trauma, the natural desire to be with those he cares about, and the very explicit fact that Katara did not want to be let go of (see her reaction to him leaving in The Awakening).

And more importantly, Aang horribly failing to read the room and kissing her when she didn't want to be kissed, and immediately chastising himself for it because he meant no harm, should be turned into him full on forcing himself on her, preferably more than once. The more traumatizing the better, so Zuko looks like even more of a hero when he saves her.

But that is not say that he needs to be a perfect gentleman when rescuing her, oh no. It's totally fine if what "frees" Katara from the "burdens" that are her family, friends and culture is being taken to the Fire Nation against her will, especially if she's not just a regular prisoner, but instead made to forcibly marry Zuko - or be his sex slave. It's totally fine is this "rescue" involves her being beaten into submission and assaulted until she learns to like it. It's for her own good. It's "feminist" when Zuko does it to her. It's only abuse when Aang does it.

And obviously any anger she has ever felt towards Zuko, even when he sent an assassin after her group, is really just her being "mad at herself" because, secretly, she TOTALLY wants him to do exactly that.

Truly the perfect way to "empower" a character. Mutilate them until they fit in the box you designed for them - and then call people "fake fans" who just "don't understand or care about the character" when they say they liked the original version way more.

Zutarians really shot themselves in the foot with that "holier than thou" attitude. It's IMPOSSIBLE to take their version of "respecting Katara's character" seriously.

#anti zutara #pro kataang #pro aang #katara deserved better #pro katara

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ozzgin · 5 hours

Note

Hellöchen popöchen

I hope no one has asked this before, but does your Rent-A-Monster offer study motivation?

Either a tutor, that can teach me the stuff I have to learn or maybe a monster that will just force me to sit my ass down and study. They could reward me with a "good boy" and I'd probably melt, trying to study even better next time I rent them, just to make them proud again and hear them call me a good boy,,

Maybe I could also get motivated by the monster with the promise of,,, certain rewards 👀✨

Anyway, I have to study for exams and I just can't seem to really do it well and I think that a big hot monster would find a way to motivate me hhh

Hope you're doing well :D -🌚

The hallöchen gave me violent flashbacks from my German uni WhatsApp group 😭

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW

Monster!Tutor has been tasked to help you with your homework and studies. Despite, well, his monstrous appearance, he is soft spoken and polite. You found it rather comical to be greeted by an unholy beast as he clumsily adjusted his glasses, sheepishly welcomed you in and asked if you’d prefer tea or coffee.

Monster!Tutor couldn’t ask for a better student. You make him so proud, and he loves taking his time with you. He’ll praise every achievement, no matter how little, as well as your efforts. He knows you’re trying. That’s all that matters, really. For everything else, you can rely on him. You can count on him to support his favorite little human.

Monster!Tutor is determined to have you succeed at all costs. He’s noticed your dusted cheeks whenever you glance in his direction, or the way you twiddle your fingers when he comes nearby. Thus, he’s decided to use it to his advantage. “Oh, you can just sit here instead”, he’ll suggest cheekily, patting his lap. “I didn’t quite hear you”, he’ll say with a grin, pressing his large, clawed hands onto your shoulders and lowering himself close to your face. “Care to repeat?”

Monster!Tutor might have gotten a little too involved in the game he’s devised for your academic success. He yearns to see your flustered expression, so much that he forgot his original intent. It is only when he’s tracing your bare skin, gazing upon your heaving, used body, that he suddenly remembers. “The homework, of course!”, he’ll mumble, embarrassed by his lack of professionalism. “Perhaps I should…clean you up first.”

Monster!Tutor needs you to succeed, because he craves the reward as much as you do, maybe more. Won’t you bring a good result home? Then he can have his way with you again, until you’re a drooling mess and can’t even form coherent sentences anymore. Don’t worry, he’ll explain everything to you, as many times as needed. Besides, cheating is allowed every now and then.

“Do you even need to wear glasses?” you asked once, intrigued by his bizarre choice.

“Not really, no. I hoped to look more human-like for you. Does it work?”

“Uh…sure” you nod, holding back a chuckle.

#monster tutor #rent a monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia #🌚 anon

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mirisss · 1 day

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Atz reaction to their s/o being financially broken

Ateez x gn!college/university student! reader

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write this but I hope you enjoy this! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to a poly relationship or not so I wrote it as if the relationships are separate, so each ATZ member has their own s/o.

Wordcount ≈ 1.2k

Warnings: Anxiety, overworking, exhaustion, financial problems, (Not that angsty though,)

Reactions under the cut

Seonghwa, Yeosang, Mingi, Yunho, Jongho

He had noticed that you didn’t seem to have a lot of time to hang out with him recently as you constantly had to study or work. At first, he didn’t think much of it, thinking it was just because of exam season that you were so stressed. But once this kept happening for over a month, he could barely reach you, you never answered his calls, or barely any of his texts, only answering “Sorry, busy studying, talk to you later”. He understood that something must be going on, his first thought would be if he had done anything wrong so one night, he went over to your apartment, knocked on the door but no one opened it, he assumed that you were at the restaurant/bar where you work so he went over there. Once at the door to the restaurant, he saw you running around inside, immediately noticing that you looked sick and feverish, you didn’t even notice him as he stood in front of you. One of your colleagues noticed him, quickly ushering him over.

“You should really convince them to go home, they’ve been working double shifts for two weeks, and even trying to pick up more shifts every now and then,” He was shocked to find out just how much you had been working. He walked over to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, love, can we talk?” You were surprised to see him but said yes and went to the back of the building, where he technically wasn’t allowed to be as a non-employee but you were with him so it was fine.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you finally sat down for the first time in probably 12 or 15 hours. “That´s what I want to ask you, your colleague just told me you’ve been working double shifts for 2 weeks straight, you look sick, you definitely have a fever, you’ve been distant for over a month, I just want to understand what’s going on,” He saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” “It’s obviously something, please, (Y/n), tell me what’s going on, I’m your boyfriend, you should be able to rely on me,” You sighed and then proceeded to tell him everything.

“My landlord raised my rent a lot about a month ago and with my old schedule, I couldn’t afford the rent or the cost of uni and everything so I had to start working more to earn enough not to be evicted, but having to work for 20 hours each day doesn’t leave a lot of time to study or sleep so I’m falling behind on classes and I don’t know what to do because no matter what I think of, there’s no solution that actually works,” He just looked at you in shock. “Why haven’t you told me about this? I could help you, I have asked before to move in together, that would help a lot with the cost of living for you,” “I can’t just rely on you for this, it’s my problem,” “Hey, we’re in this together, besides, I earn enough to support us both for a while so that you can focus on studying. I love you, (Y/n), it pains me to see you so overworked, I want to help, so please rely on me,” You couldn’t say no anymore, fatigue, fever, and finally feeling like you could have some rest catching up with you so you just nodded, whispering, ‘yes please’, before falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

Hongjoong, Wooyoung, San

They would never let it come to the point of you being financially broken or exhausted mentally, nope, these two are just very attentive or their partner and would notice the second something seemed to be off with you. The first clue was when you canceled last minute on a date he had planned for over a week, to celebrate the anniversary of your first kiss together, he would take you to a fancy restaurant, something you usually enjoyed but this day you canceled on him the morning of the date just saying “I’m not feeling like doing something fancy”. He was shocked but nonetheless, he canceled the booking at the restaurant and asked if you should just order takeout and a movie night at his place, but you shot that down too with the excuse of exams coming up.

The second, and final clue to something being wrong, was when he walked by the office where you work part-time, in the middle of the day, when you definitely had classes, but he found you at the office, looking more stressed than ever before.

“Hey, love, what are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” “Oh Joong/Woo/Sannie, um, no, I, um, don’t” It was obvious that you were lying to him, and he wondered why, as it never happened before. “I know you’re lying, (Y/n), what’s actually going on?” You just sighed, looking down at the ground. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” “I won’t judge you, honey,” “I’m going to be evicted from my apartment, I took a pay cut about a week ago and with it, I can’t afford to pay rent, and my landlord isn’t one to be understanding of me being a student so they’ll kick you out the second even a penny is missing from the rent. So I’ve been taking on more shifts here, even trying to find another part-time job at a café or something, but with that, I can’t go to classes, so I’m falling behind, and I just want to die, because I’m failing everything, even our relationship,” You were crying and almost hyperventilating at this point. He pulled you into a tight hug, to try and comfort you. His heart was hurting, how hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was this bad? “Jagi, no, you’re not failing our relationship, come live with me? You wouldn’t have to pay rent that way,” “I can’t just let you pay for everything,”

“Then how about this, you move in with me, you keep your part-time job here but you back to your regular schedule, you can pay a fourth of the rent for my apartment, that’s about equal looking at what we each earn, and that way you still have plenty of time for classes, and for me, your boyfriend,” “How can I say no to that?” “You can’t, I’m just that irresistible,”

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 day

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I can't bring myself to imagine this shit of a man (Cyprus) with these sappy 'If you love me if I were a worm' questions like Yves because he gonna spitting this.

"A worm, huh? Pretty fucking specific. What kind of worm are we talking about here? A cute little earthworm or one of those gross-ass parasites?"

I will be a parasites for Yves ✊😔💕♥️

Tw: dub con, smut, afab reader

It has been a long day of work, you and Cyprus are both exhausted and ready to just end the day. He settled you into his bed first before diving in, smothering you in his big arms and beefy pecs. He whispered good night and pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. You made yourself comfortable on his chest, as usual, using him as a pillow.

After a few minutes, you softly called his name to get his attention.

"Hmm?" He sleepily replied to you, his large hand absentmindedly squeezing your rear as he waited for your response.

You asked him if he would still love you if you were a worm. He immediately snorted in amusement.

"Another one of your internet trends, baby?" He shuffled around so that you were lying on your side, facing him directly. "Alright, I give up. What's the answer to this week's riddle?" Cyprus tickled under your chin with his index finger, causing you to squirm and pull away; to which he chuckled.

You said this isn't a riddle, and you just want to know his answer. There is no right or wrong, just whatever he thinks is an appropriate answer.

He hummed again, before suddenly crashing his lips onto yours. You let out a muffled yell but it was cut short when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hands wander under your shorts and shirt, sensually caressing and prodding at all the sensitive spots. You couldn't escape as his legs trapped yours in place. Soon, the question was forgotten as you allowed yourself to sink deeper into pleasure, he has always been a damn good kisser.

You fell into a daze, watching his silhouette take his tank top off as he straddled your hips. Although it's dark in the room, you could see that he has that handsome smirk on his face, you could feel it.

He started kissing and nibbling on your neck- surely leaving hickeys for you to shamefully cover up or flaunt the next day. His hands work hard to slide your shirt and shorts off your body. But then, you regained a bit of agency and stuttered whatever was on your mind: the question regarding love and worms. You stumbled on your words but the meaning behind them was still obvious.

Cyprus snickered against the nape of your neck, "You didn't specify how I should answer that, doll." Your breath hitched when you felt him needily pressing against your already slick entrance.

You whined, telling him to tell you his answer. But before you could even finish your sentence, you gasped when he thrust himself into you, making you feel so full and stuffed despite thinking that you had gotten used to his size.

"You and your funny internet questions..." He muttered before pressing another kiss onto your drooling lips. Cyprus momentarily pulled away and massaged your hips, "Fine, you want words? I'll use words." He brushed messy strands of hair away from your stunned face.

"If you were a worm, I'd be on you like a fucking trout." Cyprus lets out a loud, hearty laugh at his own answer, finding it silly and cheesy, yet he's proud of it. You were too far deep in h(ell)eaven to even register what he said, all you could focus on was how he kept ramming deep into that sweet, sweet spot.

Although you two were originally dog-tired, Cyprus somehow managed to worm the energy in to fuck you all night. Or at least, fuck the question out of your mind, so you wouldn't ask him that anymore.

Actually, he doesn't mind if you do. Because he likes the answer he came up with for the question, very much. He especially likes the part where you cummed on his cock twice before he could even finish inside of you once.

His answer is so good, that it kept blanking your brain. And Cyprus takes great pride in that.

#yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere #male yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #oc cyprus #tw afab reader #tw smut #tw dub con

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sugar-coated-prat-dragon · 2 days

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Title: Merlin is so powerful he can slow down time without even realizing it

@tansyuduri @thenerdyalien @samwinjester @cereamicwastelands @himegimiki

- Merlin slowed down during the Black Knight episode and didn’t even realize it. Which is why he was the only one to see Sir Owain stab the knight.

- Merlin used this ability again when the assassin Myror tried to use a spiked lance to stab Arthur during the joust.

- Merlin also likely used it a third time… when he followed Aulfric Tirmawr to the lake of Avalon and allowed his magic to slow down time so he could see the fast moving Sidhe.

One of the things that I find most interesting about this ability and it’s not talked about enough in the fandom… is the different ways in which Merlin can slow down time without a spell.

Most people would think of Merlin slowing down time in the pilot episode, when he slowed Gaius’s descent from the railing after his fall or perhaps when he slowed down the blade thrown at Arthur?

But those are only the beginning.

In the episode, “Excalibur” Merlin accidentally slowed down time during the fight between Sir Owain and the Black knight without even realizing it. He didn’t know he’d done it, until he realized no one had seen the fatal stab wound except him.

In the episode, “The Once and Future Queen” Merlin lets out his magic sweep across the arena and slowed down time in order to see the assassins lance with the deadly spike that slides out.

Yet, on both occasions, no one realized time had slowed.

Even when Merlin slowed down time near the lake of Avalon, the Sidhe (some of the most powerful magical creatures) didn’t sense any change and never suspected his presence.

That’s extremely powerful.

Pages from the book, “Sword and Sorcery”

As Merlin watched, the young knight seized his chance. 'One well-aimed blow!' Arthur called from the stands, and there it was - Owain ran his sword through the Black Knight's chest.

Merlin cheered. But to his amazement, no one else took up the cry. What was wrong?

Hadn't they seen what had happened? And why hadn't the Black Knight fallen?

'Should we tend to his wounds?' Merlin said to Gaius as the Black Knight passed them. It wasn't that he cared if the knight was hurt - but it was part of the rules.

Gaius looked surprised, though. 'Owain didn't land a blow?

'He did, Merlin insisted. 'I saw it - Owain's sword definitely pierced him' He wondered then if he had only seen the blow because of his magical abilities - for him, time could slow down. Usually it was deliberate and he could control it, but perhaps as he had been concentrating so hard it had happened all by itself. Anyway, he knew that he hadn't imagined it.

Pages from the book, “The Sorcerers Curse”

Merlin let the power climb inside him, filling him with fire. The heat rose behind his eyes, giving them a golden glow. Everything slowed as the magic swept across the arena. He saw the spike slide out of the end of the assassin's lance.

Time returned to normal for Merlin. He hurried over to Arthur, catching the prince as he almost fell off his horse, and together they staggered towards the tent.

#merlin emrys #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin lore #merlin book #merlin avalon #the adventures of merlin #merlin sidhe #merlin novel

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 2 days

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title: hannah’s avery

pairing: avery grambs x jameson hawthorne

synopsis: it’s the anniversary of hannah’s death and avery can’t admit to herself that she’s not okay

warnings: mention of death

a/n: I adored writing this!! should I do more avery x jameson?? bc this is my first fic with those two (crazy right??)

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket

Avery Kylie Grambs doesn’t cry. It’s been something I’ve told myself my whole life. I didn’t come crashing down when problems came my way, I braved them and didn’t let them see my pain. I’ve always been a stubborn girl and nothing would stop that.

But sometimes… sometimes Hannah’s Avery cried. The little girl in her mother’s arms when the going got tough. She cried and when she did, she wasn’t weak, she had her mother’s strength to carry her through. My mom’s arms had always been a safe place, she was the only person I could crumble into and fall apart on. She allowed me to be every version of myself. Good or bad.

I hadn’t been Hannah’s Avery since the night my mom died but suddenly I found myself as Hannah’s Avery once again on a dull Monday night. And it was more bittersweet than I ever would’ve thought. I felt a sense of nostalgia, like the girl I used to know was back, the girl I love so dearly that I’d lost. But there were no arms to sob into this time. And what was Hannah’s Avery without Hannah?

I reluctantly pushed myself up off of the bed I’d been curled up on for lord knows how long, in an attempt to pull myself together. I walked the bathroom and splashed my face. The icy cold water hit every cell, sending a jolt of shock through me. I needed to stop this nonsense. I wiped my face and breath, staring at someone unrecognisable in the mirror. Hannah’s Avery was long gone, that little girl had died with her mother. Avery Kylie Grambs seemed to be gone too. So who was she? Reflected in the glass? The girl I was looking at wasn’t any version of myself. She was new.

I turned away, uncomfortable with the change, the newcomer. I walked back the bedroom, looking up at the ceiling. And as pretty as the pattern was on it, I don’t think that was why I was looking up. I slumped down on my bed and ran my fingers through my knotted hair, helplessly tugging out the tangles.

“Heiress?”

There was only one voice like his.

“Yeah?” I replied, with a feigned smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked, approaching closer, faster.

His voice was contorted with concern. Why could he tell I wasn’t okay? How could he tell? No one can ever tell. They aren’t meant to be able to tell. I silently cursed myself for not sticking on my mask well enough tonight, the cracks were beginning to appear and Jameson could see right through them.

“Fine,” I replied, not sounding fine at all.

“What’s wrong?” he was quick to ask.

“Nothing I’m fine,” I said sharply, meeting his eyes. Big mistake.

“You’ve been crying,” he barely whispered, touching my cheek gently.

His touch was so soft I shuddered and pulled away. I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, I couldn’t afford to be manipulated by my feelings, give in so easily. I was stronger than that.

“I don’t cry,” I snapped, my voice hard, harsh, unfamiliar. I didn’t like the way it sounded, it was so unlike myself, like the girl in the mirror from earlier.

“Oh Heiress,” he said, his voice sweet like honey, “everybody cries.”

I shook my head stubbornly, so paralysed by denial I thought I could still move, “not me.”

“Come here,” he replied, sitting down on our bed and opening his arms.

“No, I’m fine,” I repeated. I could see what he was trying to do. “I don’t need comfort, I’m not upset.”

“I know,” he shrugged, “but just come here.”

I crawled into his open arms and curled up against his chest. I laid there as he traced the features of my face with a tentative fingertip. Some of my previous emotion began to subside and I began to feel better. It would leave, whatever this was. It would be gone in a minute. Or that’s what I thought. I was a naive fool. Within seconds of my optimism the left side of my chest physically ached, pulsations of jagged agony rippled through. I fumbled for the words to explain what I was feeling but my mind drew blank. I physically couldn’t. I looked up at Jameson, our eyes locked together.

“Call it,” I murmured, an unwanted tremor creeping into my voice.

“What?” he asked quietly, stroking my hair.

“Call tahiti,” I whispered, gazing into his large green eyes.

“Heiress,” he said gently, his face mellowing, “I don’t have to do that.”

He was right. He could’ve called tahiti the moment he saw my tear-stained cheeks, or sullen face but he didn’t. He waited. And even thought it was probably killing him, wracking his brain, ripping his heart from inside out, the word never came near to passing his lips.

“I want you to,” I said, sitting up, “I want you to call it.”

“Okay,” he replied slowly, almost hesitantly. Jameson Hawthorne didn’t hesitate. “Tahiti.”

I paused for what felt like hours, the words didn’t want to come out of my mouth. It was like they’d been stuck to the sides on my throat with superglue. I hadn’t ever admitted this pain out loud. I didn’t realise how deep I’d buried it.

“My mom,” I whispered, holding in a sob.

I couldn’t look into his eyes, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if I did that and I couldn’t afford to fall apart for the second time today. Avery Kylie Grambs doesn’t do that.

“Oh Avery,” Jameson said with softened eyes.

Not Heiress. Avery. The tenderness in his voice melted my heart and all of my insides. And with those two words I knew he immediately understood, I didn’t have to say anymore.

I loved him more than anything on this earth, I wanted him, I needed him. But needing someone and letting yourself needing someone are two very different things. But that day finally chose the latter. I fell into him, collapsing in a heap of loud, ugly sobs. I’d never felt more exposed to my own feelings, so raw with emotion.

“It hurts,” I choked, coughing up the words that I’d buried alive in my weighted heart.

“I know, but I’ve got you okay?” he comforted. I could hear his beating heart against my ear, reminding me of how lucky I was. For him, for all of this, for the life I was living. “And it won’t hurt forever,” he continued.

“What if it does?” I asked, my voice so childlike it ached.

“Then I’ll always be here to hold you,” he whispered, stroking the length of my hair softly, his fingers rhythmically weaving between strands in a calming manor.

And he was. He didn’t let go. His grip never wavered. He just held me, all of me. He held Avery Kylie Grambs, Hannah’s Avery and the Heiress. I hid my face into his chest and shed the remnants of my pain, his scent offered me comfort, his touch was warm and familiar.

“I love you Jamie,” I said into him after a while. It was so quiet I didn’t know it he’d heard me.

“I love you too Heiress,” he replied with a kiss on the top of my head. He’d heard me.

He always hears me.

a/n: thanks for reading!! hopefully I got the dynamic right?? anyways this is in honour of our lovely excerpt yesterday 🤭🤭

ALSO I am very aware that I promise PART 4 of the mysterious blonde would be the next fic up but I had this random idea and I needed to write it!! and the mysterious blonde pt4 is a much longer fic than this one…

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