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utterlyotterlyx · 3 months

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Darkest Hour

For the ones who dream of being the only choice x

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Even if hating him is the answer to your problems, your Shadowsinger will always love you.

Warnings - mentions of torture, wing loss, angst, self hatred, depression, heart breaking fluff

The chill of the Night Court breeze drifted across your face, swirls of it scuttering across you bare, scarred back, soothing that roaring hot ache that rippled through your shoulderblades.

It was strange, to feel everything but nothing at all.

Chapped lips and a raw throat encased your rage, the rage that made you shake, the rage that made you tremble and turn cold and sour.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

Your wings. Your beautiful midnight blue wings with trunks of black membrane had been carved from your body, the last test to see if you'd break, to see if you'd give in to Beron's demands of information about Nyx, about Feyre, about the Made Archeron sisters. You gave them nothing, but it had cost you too much.

Only Rhys knew what had happened to you in that chamber after diving into your unconscious mind, even then the flashes of memory were too sickening to share, to the point that even he had gone pale, had gone so far to empty the contents of his stomach in the nearest empty vase.

He adored you. They all did. A little sister of the Inner Circle, so pure and full of light, a never-ending smile, a kindness no one would dare to taint. You were like a breath of balanced air, full of life and teeming with outspoken serenity. You were the safe place, the shoulder to cry on, the daybreak at the end of the storm.

Now, now you were nothing but an empty vessel.

It broke them to see you so pale, so lifeless, staring out of the window with bleak colourless eyes whilst you lay on you front to avoid irritating the still healing scars on your back. They shouldn't have sent you, they shouldn't let you go alone. They knew that Beron thought you were a monstrosity, they knew it and they let you walk into the Autumn Court unaccompanied regardless of their knowledge.

They had failed you.

Words hadn't left your lips. No food had been eaten, even those cakes you loved so much from the bakery went stale on your bedside table. All you did was stare out of that slightly ajar window, whimpering softly when someone tried to close it to keep any form of warmth within you.

Azriel was beside himself. Mirroring you, he hadn't eaten, he didn't sleep; all he did was drown himself in the deserved self loathing that came with the guilt of not being able to find you sooner, to save you from what you were feeling. Large bags of purple and onyx clung to the sunken skin beneath his eyes, he wasn't sure if you felt his presence in the room with you, but all he could do was watch as you slowly stretched your fingertips toward the window with a flash of longing in your eyes.

Then the monster within you had prowled out of its cage, and you turned cold and distant, only allowing Mor and Mor alone to tend to you, but even then you said little if anything at all and barely left the ice cold confinements of your room.

Everything hurt.

Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. Thinking hurt.

You didn't want to do it anymore.

Then, you broke.

The floor was freezing beneath your feet as you placed them onto the wood for what felt like the first time in months, you shakily stood, using one of the pillars of your bed to help you. It was so dark in there bar the slits of moonlight that kissed the ground at your feet, the stars shone brighter as you shuffled along the ground, you loose nightgown swaying with every step.

You had lost weight, you'd felt it drop from your body, and that wasn't just the weight of your former wings. It was you, slowly decaying before your own eyes with no willingness to stop it.

Warmth whooshed into the room once you opened the door, warm light pouring in from the hallway, and the sound of faint laughter drifted up the stairs. Silently, you moved further toward it, not making a single sound as you descended the winding staircase, halting a few steps from the bottom and watching their warm smiles and gentle laugher pool at the centre of their collective consciousness.

They looked happy. Happy.

Azriel felt you first, his head snapping to the right so abruptly that everyone else's followed. The room turned cold and you shuddered and the sudden change, and Azriel wanted nothing more than to go to you. Pale skin and lips greeted them, black-grey veins of exhaustion tugged at your eyes and cheeks, your chest struggled to heave in a breath, and you looked at them with such despair, such hatred, that he had to bite down on his bottom lip to stop it from wobbling.

You huffed out an incredulous breath, almost a scoff, "Enjoying yourselves?"

Rhys tentatively rose to his feet, sensing the conflicting emotions within you, sensing the kettle boiling over into searing hot anger, "Y/N," you saw his flattened hand in the air, he used it when he wanted to calm down a hostile situation, he was using it on you.

"Don't say that name," you had snarled, "I stopped being her the moment I lost them," you felt unworthy, you felt ashamed, "I protected you," your eyes darted to Rhys, then to Feyre, to Nesta and Elain, "I didn't give them a single thing and I'm the one who lost everything. For you. I wish I had given one of you over to him, I wish that I didn't have to give the only thing I had to protect people who wouldn't protect me," you were panting, you hands reaching over your shoulder and ghosting at the tips of the gruesome crescent shaped scars embedded into your shoulders.

A gentle tug pulled your attention away from them, they had all risen to their feet, looking at you with alarm and eyes laced with pity, and guilt. So much guilt. You attention shifted to your feet, to the little winged child that stood there, his bright eyes staring up at you with a tsunami of love, his tiny hand grabbing for you, and you indulged him, letting him take your finger in his hand and send warmth flowing up your arm.

Azriel swore he could see some of the colour return to your skin.

Azriel watched as that one touch broke you, you screwed your eyes shut and tears escaped from them, flowing down your cheeks as sobs stung at your chest, he wasn't sure if you could handle the pressure of them.

The night you were due to return was the supposed to be the night that Azriel told you that he was your mate, after 400 years of loving you and 60 years after the bond had snapped for him. He'd been so nervous to the point he'd enlisted Cassian and Elain to help him plan some elaborate evening for you. A hot bath with the lavender soak you loved so much, brand new books he had convinced the author to release early for you, your favourite chocolates, a bottle of your favourite wine, and a letter from him confessing his love for you. He knew how much you cherished letters. You'd kept every letter from all of them in the 400 years they had known you and loved you, they lay sleeping in boxes under your bed.

It hadn't snapped for you yet but you had unleashed all of your pain down the bond, not even searching for him, but feeling too much of the all-consuming pain that your soul was screaming for a moment of light. Just a minute of something else other than pain.

It nearly suffocated him.

Nesta moved to you, almost knocking her chair over in the process and wrapped her arms around you, shielding you by pushing your head into the crook of her neck. She ran her fingers through your limp hair, finding more knots than perfect glossy strands and felt herself breaking at how thin you had become.

"It's okay to be angry, Y/N. It's okay to hate us. It's okay," she whispered to you, turning her head to the side and pleading to Azriel to come to you.

He did without a moments hesitation.

Nesta passed you into his awaiting arms, night kissed mountains and cedar engulfed you, and you felt yourself relaxing into him as he rubbed soft circles into your back, relieving some of that aching tension that had become unbearable, "Hate me as much as you need to, I can take it. I can take all of your anger and darkness, let me take it."

"I'm so tired," you loosely wrapped your arms around him and sobbed, Azriel knew how exhausted you were, he could feel it in your trembling bones how close you were to passing out from the feeling.

"Okay," he moved to scoop you up into his arms, holding you so gently like he was afraid you'd snap in two in his hands, "That's something we can fix. One day at a time. We can do this."

Since that night, you felt lighter.

Months had passed, and thanks to Rhys and Cassian, you found your strength again. Thanks to Nesta, you found joy again. Thanks to Feyre and Nyx, you found passion again. Thanks to Mor and Elain, you'd gotten that innocent wonder back.

And Azriel, you had him to thank for it all.

He had been so gentle with you, coaxing you into physical therapy with promises of warm baths and healing creams, and making sure you ate and drank and found reasons to be happy again. The first laugh from your lips almost made him faint, it was accompanied by that sparkle in your eyes that he had missed too much.

Colour had returned to your skin, your hair had returned to its glossy hue, your smile was wide and bright, and even without your wings that he knew you missed, you were by far the most beautifully resilient creature he had ever seen.

You had closed the bedroom window, allowing him to light a fire and settle into his embrace whilst you both read your books. He had given you the one he was supposed gift to you and could have swooned at the smile you gave him.

"What do you think about mates?" It startled him, it made his heart physically halt in his chest and he moved his chin from the top of your head to look down at you. "Do you believe that there is a perfect half of your soul out there?"

"I do. I know it actually," he told you and you craned your neck upward to look at him properly, flushed cheeks and all.

"Yeah," you eyes twinkled, "How?"

"Because I know who it is I hope to see every morning for the rest of my life."

Your smile faltered, "Do I know her?" You shuffled onto your side, your book forgotten on the floor and arm tucked beneath your head.

Azriel mirrored you, settling into the space beside you, "Very well actually. She is bold and beautiful. Her laugh is the symphony of my dreams and memories. Her being herself is always going to be enough for me. It was inevitable really, to fall for her, it was beyond the scope of my control, the first time I saw her I just knew that she was the person my heart had been craving my entire life. She makes me laugh when all I want to do is hide away from the world. She makes it so easy to see the beauty in everything."

"She sounds perfect, Az," he noticed your sad eyes and the way you had curled up into yourself, but still holding on to every single word he said.

"And even when she lost everything, in a way I think it made me love her more, because even in the darkest hour of her life, she still managed to pull herself out of it, to feel and shine again," he turned to you, your brows furrowed and a small gasp floating from you, "I am completely, utterly, totally, in love with you, Y/N. You are the one my soul sings for," his shadows moved to you, curling around your face and torso, the inky tendrils kissing your exposed skin, "And I promise to love you no matter what life throws at us."

Tears pooled at your eyes and he grasped for you, rolling you onto you back so that his face was hovering above your own.

It happened then, that fairy tale snap you had never thought you'd own, the one you'd never thought you deserved. A split soul merging into one, singing in golden light as tendrils of thread sewed your hearts together, "I was so horrible to you."

Azriel shushed you, "I have loved you for 400 years, Y/N. You have been my light for so long, even when I didn't want one, you were there to pull me out," you cupped his face in your hands, "You have no idea how many lives you have impacted by just existing, I can't imagine a moment without you. I'll never tire of hearing what's going on in that strange little mind of yours. To put it in simple terms, there's not one part of you that I don't want, not a single part of you that I don't adore."

Tears fell from your eyes and he wiped them away, his body entangled with yours, "I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me that you love me. Tell me you're mine," Azriel pleaded, his hazel eyes glistening with a love you'd never seen before, not even between Feyre and Rhys, your soul pulsated with that freshly bound power and you sighed, pulling him closer to you.

Pressing your forehead to his you muttered the words, "I love you Azriel, and I am yours forever, in my darkest of hours and most beautiful of days. I love you."

brb sobbing x

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bby-deerling · 4 months

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can't help it (zoro x reader nsfw)

midnight snack (gone sexual!!!)

18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.3k masterlist

cw: light bondage, fingering, soft zoro, devious backshots, semi-public sex kinda? (in the kitchen no one else is around), established relationship, artist!reader but can be read standalone

tagging: @eelnoise @sleepymarimo

A cold, blue-toned light casts in through the kitchen window; the Sunny rocks through a quiet stretch of sea, with most of the pirates on board tucked into bed or at their posts keeping watch, save for two. Leaning over the kitchen counter, you let out a content sigh as the last bites of a chewy snickerdoodle cookie melt in your mouth; the sweet goodness lingering on your tongue is quickly washed down by a cool glass of milk. Remnants of the drink stick to your upper lip until messily wiped away by the back of your hand. The sensation of being refreshed and content clouds your senses, to the point where you lose awareness of your partner’s presence, giving him the opportunity to snatch your wrists and pull them behind your back.

“Gotcha.” Zoro teases. His words have a gravel to them that sends tingles down your spine as he murmurs them into your ear. His bandana, fabric still warm from being tied around his arm, twists and knots around your wrists, holding them in place as he presses himself against you.

“You got me…” you say playfully, adjusting just the slightest bit in his grasp to feel all of him against the thin fabric of your nightgown, “what are you gonna do with me now?” The cool, night air suddenly becomes humid and hot as his wide palms creep up your thighs.

“I think you know.” he whispers huskily; though you can’t see him, you can feel the smirk on his face, and the thought alone is enough to send heat crawling through your body. He’s slow and lazy with his touches, massaging and groping every bit of skin he can get his hands on as he works his way upward. The way he grazes his fingers along your folds elicits a whimper from you; pleased at your reaction, he grips your hips tighter with his other hand, eager to draw out more slutty sounds from you. His teasing touches leave you hot and feverish, making you squirm, wrists rubbing against the cloth that binds them.

“This alright?” he asks tone laced with concern, tugging on the fabric of the bandana to emphasize his words.

“Mhm!” you say reassuringly, nodding your head as best you can while bent over the kitchen counter with your hands behind your back, “You make me feel safe, Zoro.” you add, voice gentle and serene. Something in the air shifts, turning the mood of the spontaneous late-night tryst into something intimate, soft, and meaningful. He lets out a low, content hum as his heartstrings pull and his pride swells at the trust you place in him. “Damn right, I do.” he says as he teases your entrance with his wide, calloused fingers. His movements build a deep craving that doubles upon feeling how ready you are for him, coating the tips of his fingers with your arousal. “Now, quit squirming and lemme take care of you.” he whispers, trailing one of his hands along your thigh as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

It's almost silly, the way you turn into a wet, needy mess for him when subjected to such trivial touches. It was so easy for him to make your heartbeat drop to your core; it was so simple for him to render you a twitching wreck with the press of his fingers against your clit, but as he drags his soaked fingers along your walls, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Want me to give it to ya’?” he teases as he slips his fingers out of you, smacking his tip against your needy bud before dragging it along your slick folds.

“Please, Zoro, I need it…” you whine softly, pressing your toes upward in a failed attempt to get more friction. He’s amused by your impatience, and teases you a few times, pushing just the slightest bit of his tip inside of you until you let out a growl of frustration, fed up and wanting to be filled by him.

“Alright lil’ demon, I’ll give it to ya’.” he murmurs with a low chuckle as he sheathes himself inside of you. Though the emotions hanging between you were nearly tangible, he’s still rough around the edges; each indent left in the flesh of your hips by the tips of his fingers, every deep thrust of his cock as he buries himself inside of you, and the slowly healing red and purple marks from past encounters serve as proof—Zoro loves hard.

“Look at you, taking it so well...” he rasps as his hips snap against yours. He winds you up tightly like a spool of thread with slow, deep strokes; it’s enough to keep you on edge, reeling, and whimpering without sinking your head completely underwater in a pool of ecstasy. “That’s why you’re my girl. No matter what I give ya’, you can take it.” he praises, grasping the plush skin of your ass, making you whimper underneath him.

The way he stretches you out as his head brushes against your sweet spot with each thrust is so dizzying that everything starts to melt away except for the sensations of his cock, his touch, and the cool, drool-coated surface of the counter. Zoro’s hand dips to massage your clit, and stars start twinkling along the surface of your closed eyelids; you’re so close that it’s impossible to hide, and the way you begin to flutter around him makes him give it to you harder.

“Let go for me… wanna feel ya’ come for me, pretty girl.” he rasps, voice shaky as he tries to hold back from spilling into you; the sight of you under his thumb and at his mercy is tempting and tantalizing; with your nightgown pushed up, your hands tied behind your back and your thighs slick with arousal, it’s hard for him to not crack and give in. His rigid self-discipline bends but remains unbroken as you shatter, red hot and spasming around him; soft whines of his name fall off your lips like an incantation, but you’re the one entranced, mind left blissful and blank.

“That’s it—good girl.” he coos; his tone is soothing, but the momentum of his thrusts remains punishing. Unraveling around him only spurs him to give you more as your walls quiver and pulse; the growing pool of arousal that seeps out of your sex lets him give it to you harder and faster, scrambling your brain into a set of mixed-up puzzle pieces. “My good fucking girl, taking all of me—”he murmurs, voice barely above the sounds of the smack of his hips against yours. He’s close enough to start rambling; parts of it are incoherent, but all of it is dirty, filthy, and leaves you speechless and whimpering.

As the afterglow of your high ebbs, he can’t hold back any longer. Thick, white ropes paint your walls; the fresh, red marks where his hands had grasped your hips, complement the sight of his seed dripping out of your core—he’d claimed you inside and out.

You wriggle your wrists out of the now loosened bandana and turn to face him; as he gazes down into your starry eyes, he’s never seen anything more precious. Still flushed, wrecked, and messy, there’s an overflow of raw emotion in your eyes as you pull him down into a soft kiss. He’s always stunned by your ability to melt him, always reinforcing but never reshaping him. And yet he was so irrevocably changed by your grace, into a man who allowed himself small, secret pockets of happiness with you, far from the prying eyes of others.

“Need another snack now?” he teases, his lips curling into a smirk.

You giggle; the song of your laughter is cut by a raspy hoarseness in your throat.

“No, but some water would be nice.” you reply with a smile.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #mdni #i love him so much #so so so so much

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itsvelyria · 5 months

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"sleepless nights w the f1 boys"

Charles Leclerc

his fingertips, rough and dry, are warm as they sketch circles into the back of your hands. you're uncertain of whether he's even aware of it — gaze lingers on your lover, distracted by his gentle charting of constellations in the midnight sky. his voice, a steady murmur, narrates the story of cygnus' lost love and delphinus' persuasion. the chilled air is held at bay as you remain nestled at his side. soon the night softens, inky blue yielding to pinks and oranges as you trade dreams and stories, your heart filling as fatigue settles into your bones.

Carlos Sainz

late-night drives through deserted city streets unfold like a poetic journey. the hum of the engine blends seamlessly with the laughter that fills the car. childhood stories are shared, echoing through the serene space beyond. with each turn, memories are etched into the fabric of the night, becoming invisible threads that linger in the quiet hours that follow. carlos’ handprint on your upper thigh tingles long after parking, sending sparks up your spine as you two head back up to your shared bed.

Danny Ricciardo

the moonlight casts a soft, clandestine glow, accentuated by the fairy light someone had left hanging. rusty bulbs flicker as danny pulls you up by the hands, the out-of-bounds rooftop transforming into an impromptu private dance floor. below, the city is sleepless and alive with its pulsating energy, serving as your silent witness. the faint notes of your paramour’s cologne, a blend of skin and soap, envelops your waltz as you rest your heavy head against his chest. he hums an all-too-familiar melody and in this suspended moment, time seemed to stretch.

George Russell

on cozy nights in, you both find yourselves entwined in a nest of blankets, a sanctuary of warmth. the orange glow from your nightstand delicately paints the walls, creating a cocoon that shields you from the chill outside. amidst the quietude, secrets and dreams are exchanged like cherished treasures. a small flame is kindled in the tranquil space you've carved out for each other — a haven where the moments hover, suspended in the the warmth of your shared breaths, as sleepless nights turn into timeless memories.

Lando Norris

in the realm of virtual gaming marathons, the hours extend into early mornings, a landscape illuminated by the lights of your screen. shouts of triumph and screams of anguish punctuate the air, interweaving with playful banter that colours the room. oceans away from the love of your life, his laughter still resonates through your headphones as he achieves a triple-kill. you cherish every digital heart he sends through your private chat, a reminder of the connection you share despite the physical distance.

Lewis Hamilton

in the tranquillity of midnight, a serene park becomes your canvas for shared introspection. the world transforms into a tapestry of silver and shadows as you two embark on a quiet stroll, hands entwined. conversations unfurl like the delicate petals of snow-white lilies, their fragility mirrored in the hushed murmurs. the night air carries whispers of dreams and aspirations that mingle with the rustle of leaves underfoot. in the hallowed stillness, your footsteps fall into cadence on the gravel path, heartbeats synchronizing like a ballet telling the story of forging connections.

Max Verstappen

beneath the vast expanse of twinkling stars, you both pitch your tents on damp grass. the crackle of a campfire and the rustle of pine trees create the soundtrack to this new chapter in your relationship. flickering flames cast dancing shadows on max’s face as he concentrates on roasting marshmallows. the stars above interrupt every shared gaze and every brush of your hands. the magic sparkling in the inches between your frames settles deep into your bones, destined to be a memory never forgotten.

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nahoney22 · 1 month

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One Night With Royalty***

🫧 Pairing: Prince Rex X Female Reader

word count: 3.5k

prompt:

“Can you be good for me?”

Summary: When the Prince Rex is admired by your beauty, he takes no time in taking you by your hand, offering you a dance and perhaps offering you a little more.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. AU fic. Cinderella Inspired. Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Dirty Talk, Praises, Face Sitting, Oral Sex ie Cunnilingus, Creampie, P in V Sex, Soft!Dom Rex, Female Reader Wearing a Ball Gown (your choice of colour), Reader Flees at Midnight.

Authors Note: I loved this idea anon! Fitting with the theme of Cinderella I’ve also done it that Reader leaves at midnight same as the film for ✨ drama ✨ i hope this is okay and you enjoy 😊

Entering the palace was like stepping into a realm of enchantment. With each stride you took brought forth a spectacle of grandeur that left you breathless. At first, you thought maybe it was the mountain of stairs you just had to climb in heels that had the wind knocked out of you but it was the crystal chandeliers that illuminated the vast expanse of marble floors with a soft, ethereal glow that had you captivated.

The soft hue casted intricate patterns of light that danced in harmony with the melodies of the orchestra; an unfamiliar sound to you. Not only that, but the air was a symphony of laughter and conversation, carrying with it the mingling scents of exotic flowers from an array of different planets.

The sights of Princesses, Noble men, Senators, and Jedi alike moved gracefully, their elaborate gowns and finely tailored suits exuding an air of regal sophistication. Making you feel like you stood out like a sore thumb as you navigated through the ballroom. Holding onto your dress to avoid tripping over yourself, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of sparkling tiaras and impeccably polished shoes from the guests.

Despite the overwhelming opulence surrounding you, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind - "I so don’t belong here…"

With a twist of fate and defying your disapproving family who didn’t even want you here tonight, a stroke of luck shined your way. But you couldn’t even think about that right now. You just wanted to take this all in.

Though all eyes were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Prince Rex - the main reason for the ball - your focus remained captivated by the beauty of your surroundings; caught in a reverie. It hardly felt real.

Overwhelmed by it all, you sought for a moment of calm in the serenity of the outdoors. The far left door beckoned, leading to a spacious balcony offering a panoramic view of the landscape bathed in the stunning glow of a deep purple sunset.

As you stood there, momentarily lost in the beauty before you, a voice shattered the tranquility, causing you to startle. Turning, your eyes widened in astonishment as the Prince himself stood before you.

The tales of his valour in the Clone Wars had preceded him, his attire matching the hues of his armor - a finely embroidered doublet of blue and white. And the praise regarding his looks was indeed warranted, as he was undeniably handsome. It felt like a crime to even look at him.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" His voice was soft, his gaze kind as he regarded you.

"Yes, it is," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness as you instinctively dipped into a formal address, feeling suddenly small in his presence.

His smile was warm, his demeanor charming as he took a step closer, one hand casually tucked behind his back. "I hope you don't mind me coming to say hello. I noticed you when you entered and realised you were alone."

You struggled to comprehend how he could have singled you out amidst the bustling crowd, let alone why he would choose to engage with you. "Not at all, Your Majesty," you managed, your words tinged with a mix of surprise and admiration as you offered a quick curtsy.

He chuckles, laughter almost was infectious, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he drew nearer. "The pleasure is mine," he replied, his charm putting you at ease.

Stopping before you, he extended his hand with a gallant gesture. "Will you do me the honor of having the first dance with me?" he asked, his gaze unwavering.

Caught off guard, you stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, a mixture of disbelief and elation flickering across your features. "I...I would be honoured," you stammered, finally accepting his offer, your heart racing with excitement as you took his hand.

As the Prince led you back into the ballroom, this time to the dance floor, you couldn't help but notice the hushed gasps and murmurs that followed your entrance. You chew on the inside of your cheek as a sense of unease crept over you, a stark reminder of your perceived insignificance among the sea of nobility and royalty.

Sensing your trepidation, the Prince offered a comforting squeeze of your hand, his reassuring touch momentarily easing your nerves. With a subtle nod, he guided you to the center of the room.

As the orchestra resumed its melody, the Prince's gaze met yours. For a moment, there was a glimmer of something unmistakable flickering in his eyes. There was a hunger there, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

With each step, the Prince's presence enveloped you, his firm yet gentle touch guiding you effortlessly across the ballroom floor. As you stole glances at the onlookers, their reactions ranged from smiles of admiration to expressions of confusion and even disdain. You’re nervous, the weight of their scrutiny threatening to dampen your spirits, but the Prince's reassuring voice cut through the noise.

"Ignore them," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Look at me."

You tore your gaze away from the judgmental stares, focusing instead on the Prince's intense eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Yet, despite his attempt to shield you from the prying eyes of the crowd, you couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of inadequacy that lingered within you.

"I..." You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the turmoil churning within your mind. "I can't help but feel... out of place."

The Prince's brow furrowed with concern, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he sought to understand your inner thoughts. "What are you thinking? If you do not wish to dance just say. I will not take offense," he observed, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your insecurities threatening to overwhelm you. "It's just... I know why this ball is happening. You're seeking a companion, marriage. Someone who is worthy of your stature and position. And yet, here I am, dancing with you, unable to offer anything of value."

Your confession hung heavy in the air, the vulnerability of your words laid bare before him.

“So you are not a Princess or a Senator?” The Prince's unwavering gaze held yours, his question hanging in the air with a weight that made your breath catch in your throat. As more guests joined the dance, their attention momentarily diverted.

Summoning your courage, you met his gaze head-on. "No, Your Majesty, you are not mistaken. I am neither of those things."

For a moment, silence hung between you, the weight of your admission settling over the space like a heavy fog. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckles.

"May I tell you a secret?" His voice was low, conspiratorial almost. Anyway, it was enough to draw you in with its intimacy.

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. "Of course," you replied, your curiosity piqued.

"I do not wish to marry. Not yet, anyway." His words were like a revelation, catching you off guard and causing your mind to reel with disbelief. "It is simply my duty. I did not want this Ball to take place knowing I had to marry a stranger."

The two of you danced more together, neither of you seeming to want the music to end. But there was something now different in the way he held you.

His touch was possessive, almost afraid that you were going to slip away from him at any point or have another man come and take you from him. His movements deliberate too, each step charged with an unspoken intensity that left you breathless.

The Prince's hold on you was undeniably suggestive, his every movement a tantalising invitation that stirred something primal within you. You felt foolish for getting so heated by him but there was a curious thought in your mind.

“Why have you asked me to dance with you if you’re not looking for something?”

Your question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty, as you searched the Prince's eyes for answers. His hand, once intertwined with yours, now caressed your cheek with a tenderness that elicited an audible gasp from your lips, your eyes fluttering shut at the unexpected intimacy.

As his fingertips brushed against your skin, a rush of sensations coursed through you, igniting a fire that seemed to burn hotter with each passing moment in the bottom of your stomach. How could a simple touch evoke such a visceral reaction?

"Who says I'm not looking for something?" His words, laced with suggestion, sent a shiver down your spine, your eyes snapping open to meet his gaze once more. You saw the hunger in his eyes, a desire that started to mirror your own.

Heat rose to your cheeks, the feeling of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "I cannot lie and say that's not flattering," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands trailed across your body with an intimacy that left you stunned.

Leaning in close, his lips mere inches from your ear, he whispered words that sent a jolt of electricity straight between your legs. "Have you ever been with royalty?"

With a sense of excitement, the Prince guided you through hidden corridors and secret passages, away from prying eyes and into the seclusion of his personal chambers. Each step was imbued with anticipation, yet you were eager to see what was to happen.

As he opened the door, granting you entry into his private domain, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you. The tapestries that draped the wall, the size of his bed… all of it. But before you could fully take in your surroundings, the Prince stepped up behind you, his hands finding purchase on your hips, his lips brushing against your ear in a gesture that sent shivers down your spine.

"Do you want to do this?" His voice, soft yet commanding, filled the room with an intoxicating allure that left you breathless.

"Yes, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your desire evident in every trembling breath.

"In here," he murmured, his hands trailing down your back as he began to slowly, deliberately, undress you. Each touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body that has your knees shaking, “you can call me Rex.”

As the fabric of your dress fell away, leaving you exposed in your corset and undergarments, a flush of heat flooded your cheeks at the Prince's appreciative gaze. "You are beautiful," he whispered against your skin, the warmth of his breath making your head roll back and rest in the crook of his shoulder. His lips found your exposed neck, gently kissing along your skin that makes you whimper under his touch.

Your body tingles with anticipation as Rex then led you to his bed. As he sat down, his gaze roamed over your form with a soft smirk, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he kissed over your knuckles softly that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "Can you be good for me?" he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Yes, Rex,” you replied, your voice husky with longing. “Anything for you.”

"Good girl," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as he quickly undressed you until you were now fully nude, him following suit before he reclined on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The air crackled with tension as you crawled towards him, your movements deliberate and sensual.

As you drew closer, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you both. His lips were warm and delicious, tender and precise whilst his hands roamed over your body with an urgency.

But then, with a subtle command, he guided you into position, his gaze smoldering with desire as he whispered, "I wish for you to sit on my face."

A smile of anticipation spread across your lips, your eyes shining with desire as you straddled his face, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin. With a low moan of pleasure, you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his tongue exploring your cunt sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

"You taste so fucking good," he moans into your heat, his tongue working wonders as it explores every inch of your dripping arousal. Gripping your thighs firmly, he holds you in place, his determination evident in the fervour of his actions.

His hand roams upwards, teasing your sensitive skin until it finds purchase on your breast, kneading and pinching your hardened nipples. “R-Rex,” you whine beautifully, gazing down at him between your legs, his brown eyes staring back at you with desire as he sticks his tongue deep in your hole; the noises lewd, sloppy and messy

Feeling bold, you begin to move your hips, grinding against his face with increasing urgency. "That's it, ride my tongue," he encourages, praises, his words muffled by your slicked cunt that sends vibrations through your core.

You're on the brink of ecstasy after a few minutes, your body trembling. "I'm gonna cum, Rex," you moan, your fingers brushing against his buzzed-blonde hair as he pushes you closer to the edge with his expert ministrations.

"Go ahead, cum for me," he demands, his grip tightening as he doubles his efforts, pushing you over the edge into a euphoric release. With a satisfied groan, he laps up your essence, savouring the taste of your pleasure.

As you catch your breath, he guides you onto his lap, his solid cock pressing against you. "Are you ready for more?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours, his desire evident in the hunger of his kiss. “You’ve got such a beautiful pussy… I just need to bury myself inside you.”

Your mind is reeling from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins as Rex's lips devour yours, leaving you yearning for more. “Yes, yes fuck me please!”

He grins against your lips and flips you over, positioning himself above you, anticipation coils in the pit of your stomach. His cock presses against your slick folds, the size both intimidating and exhilarating. "You're so big, Your Majesty," you purr in desire.

"I told you," he replies softly, his breath hot against your skin as he begins to ease himself inside you, eliciting a hearty groan of satisfaction. "Call me Rex."

With each inch of his length filling you, a symphony of pleasure floods your senses, driving you to new heights of ecstasy. His hands grip the sheets beside you, his movements deliberate and controlled as he savours the sensation of being buried deep within you.

"Stars, you're tight," he murmurs. "It's been so long for me..."

You offer no words of reassurance, only the soft sounds of your moans and the tightening of your legs around him, urging him to delve deeper into each moan you make.

His pace starts slow but then quickens quickens, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "You've got such a lovely cunt," he coos, his eyes locked on the intimate union between your bodies, his cock glistening with your slick arousal. "You feel so good."

"M-More, I need more, Rex," you whimper, your body arching against his, desperate for the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

With a deep grunt, he obliges, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he plunges into you with unrestrained passion. "Beautiful," he praises, his voice thick with desire as he loses himself, gazing into your brown eyes.

The room fills with the sounds of passion, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and lust. Your body is ablaze with desire, every nerve ending ignited by the intoxicating pleasure of Rex's touch. With each thrust, he elicits a chorus of moans and gasps from your lips, driving you to the brink of madness.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his voice a husky whisper against your skin as he buries himself deeper inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he practically folds you in half. "So tight and wet for me, just begging to be fucked."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, the sheer intensity of his desire sending shivers down your spine. "Yes, Rex, please," you whimper, your voice a desperate plea for more of him, more of the overwhelming pleasure he brings.

He responds with a sigh, his movements growing more urgent and desperate as he seeks to fill the hunger that consumes you both. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his voice raw with need as he loses himself.

You want more. You need more. "Harder, Rex," you beg, your nails digging into his skin as you urge him to push you further, to take you to the edge again.

With a fierce determination, he complies, his thrusts becoming one again rougher and more intense as he drives you towards the pinnacle of release. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growls, kissing your neck before resting his forehead to yours, locking gazes. “You look so cock-hungry.”

It was sudden, your orgasm hitting you like blaster-fire. With a shared cry of release, you surrender to the overwhelming tide of pleasure, your walls contracting on his cock.

You screamed his name, grasping at his body desperately as he gives strained grunt before he spilled deep inside you. He holds you tight, still slowly thrusting in and out, and you kept clawing at his back, murmuring incoherently.

Rex soon stops, staying inside you as you just laid there together, catching your breaths. “You are wonderful.” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly.

You smile lazily, your legs still twitching as you slowly come down from your high, gasping quietly as his softening cock slips out of you.

“May I draw you a bath?” As Rex offers to run you a bath, he covers you with a part of his duvet and you can’t help but feel touched by his consideration for your comfort, and a blush warms your cheeks at his respect for your dignity.

"I feel like I should be asking you," you chuckle softly, meeting his gaze. "After all, you are the Prince. But I'd like that, if you don't mind?"

"I would not have offered otherwise," he assures you, placing a tender kiss on your cheek before retreating into the refresher, the sound of running water filling the silence.

Alone in his room, you allow yourself a moment to reflect on the whirlwind of events that led you here. You had only wanted to have a bit of fun tonight, sneaking into the Ball without your family's knowledge and experiencing just splendor, only to catch the eye of the Prince himself. And what followed was beyond your wildest dreams. He had been kind, sweet, and utterly captivating.

But reality soon creeps back in, reminding you of the inevitable constraints of his royal obligations.

With a heavy sigh, your gaze lingered on a clock and your eyes widened as realisation hit. Time is slipping away and you must leave—fast.

Hastily, you gather your clothes, struggling to dress yourself. The intricate laces of your dress prove to be a challenge, and frustration mounts as the seconds tick by.

The sound of your hurried movements catches Rex's attention, and he emerges from the refresher, a quizzical expression on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"I..." you falter, meeting his gaze, the softness and confusion in his eyes tugging at your heartstrings. He looks almost like a wounded creature, not wanting to see you go. "I have to leave. But I've had the most magical night, Your Majesty."

As you turn to leave, a pang of regret grips you tightly. "Wait! I... I don't even know your name," Rex calls out, his voice laced with a hint of shame at his oversight, mentally cursing at himself for never asking. Supposedly it was because he felt like he did know you.

But time is against you, and you have no choice but to flee his chambers, leaving his question unanswered. With an apologetic glance over your shoulder, you bolt from the room, your heart pounding in your chest as you navigate the labyrinth passageways of the palace, praying you remembered the way he led you in.

Meanwhile, Rex scrambles to dress himself, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He curses his own foolishness for not asking your name sooner, knowing that now, you're gone, slipping through his fingers like sand.

As he races down the stairs of the palace, clothes askew and heart pounding, he scans the darkness of the night, searching for any trace of you.

All he has now are the memories of your eyes, the warmth of your touch, and the lingering scent of your lips to remind him of the moment you shared.

But Rex is determined. He will find you again, no matter the cost.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

#Captain Rex #captain rex x reader #Rex #Rex x reader #rex x you #captain rex x female reader #nahoney22 writes #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper smut

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officialdaydreamer00 · 7 months

Note

can i req cuteness aggression headcanons for the tweels :3

im gonna shake them around like a pinball, or they'll gonna do that themselves lol

reader is not yuu, reader is gender neutral, reader is the object of their cuteness aggression

awe shrimpy, you're so cute he could just eat you whole!

very vocal about just how adorable you are and how much he wants to bite you.

might have "accidentally" squeezed you until you turned blue a few times before.

shakes you around like a ragdoll, takes great pleasures carrying you on his shoulders like a potato sack.

bites you. a lot. fully utilising his sharp chompers to mark your uncovered skin.

yeah he's not gonna hold back the aggression, bestie. good luck.

also wants to bite you, but tries his best to suppress it.

probably nearly strangled you with his hugs before.

attacks you with barrages of kisses and borderline squeezes.

he's nearly as bad as, if not more than, floyd when it comes to you lmao

you're just too cute for your own good, dear prefect. that's why he has that mighty urge to litter your skin with bite marks.

sometimes the temptation wins, and people will see you the next day with bright red marks peeking out from your shirt.

again, good luck bestie.

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @identity-theft-101 @aqua-beam @siren-serenity @dove-da-birb @krenenbaker @cave-of-jade @axvwriter @mermaidfanficlibrary @thehollowwriter @moonlit-midnight @cheezy-moon @cookiesandbiscuits @minimallyminnie @jaylleoo14

reblogs are very appreciated!!

#irene's writings ♡#twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst x reader #jade leech #twst jade #jade leech x reader #twst jade x reader #jade leech fluff #jade x reader #floyd leech #twst floyd #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #floyd x reader

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admirxation · 2 months

Text

Messy Beauty ~ Astarion oneshot

spawn!Astarion x afab!tav!reader

summary: after an impactful day, you decide to retreat into the lake and relax with Astarion, but you can't help but notice how handsome he is and stare, and he notices this.

cw: this fic contains heavy smut and features vampire blood tasting, this is 18+ only and please read the warnings, continue at your own discretion // heavy smut, consensual vampire neck biting, blood tasting, handjob (m receiving), oral (m receiving), self-pleasure (f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), mild tit play, and coming inside. (word count: 1.8k)

You trudged wearily into camp, your muscles protesting every step, needing any rest that was available to you. The journey was doing a number on everybody. It was such a gruelling quest that repeatedly tested the fragility of life, with constant dangers lurking in every corner to drain all your energy.

To help you, you stepped away from the warm and comforting atmosphere of camp to venture with Astarion into the secluded lake nearby for some much-needed leisure for just the two of you. Both of you waited for everyone to sleep or retreat in solitude in their tent before entering that cold cascade of mysterious tranquillity.

As you approched the lake, you both felt a symphony of sensations about to unravel, both of you undressing and exposing your forms before steeping into the cold water. The air was crisp with pine, mingling with a faint fragrance of wildflowers that danced within the concoction of differing and intriguing scents. Furthermore, there was a silver mist of moonlight that cascaded down, and transformed the water into a liquid mirror that shimmered and rippled with inviting ethereal beauty.

The chill of the water, at first, sent shivers down your whole body and elicited soft gasps as you both waded further and felt that refreshing embrace that lake gave to you as your naked bodies dove right in, your bodies now acclimated to the coldness that left goosebumps along your skin. There was a sense of serenity washing over you and Astarion as the moon hung low in the sky, its radiant glow casting a spellbinding beauty over the surrounding landscape, silver beams dancing upon the surface as you danced along in the rippling water that painted midnight blue and a soft hue over you two.

Your heartbeat quickened and deepened when you got close to him, his features bathed in that soft glow, his pale body subjected to that otherworldly light that emphasised his beauty; you couldn't help but watch how the droplets rolled down the curvature of his stomach, feeling a tingling sensation in your core accompanied with that heat that smoothed around your inner thighs — you couldn't help but bite your lip to yourself and play off that you weren't staring right at him.

When it was time to come out of the water, you turned to face him, seeing the water droplets glistening like diamonds in his white hair, then trailing down his body like liquid silver. Still, you turned around and tried to stop staring at him, proceeding to squeeze the remaining water that nestled within the strands of your hair.

You heard the grass press down underneath Astarion's feet as he walked closer to you. He slowly placed his cold hands on your hips, forcing a jolt of surprise to run through you, then proceeding to curl them around you and bringing his lips close to your ear.

"You know it's rude to stare?" that voice, oh that beautiful voice that was filled with a deep smoothness, emulating a sweet treat you long craved. "I'm guessing you liked what you saw?" that teasing voice got to you, making you twirl around and have your gaze meet his red eyes that was intermingled with a lustrous look, and one of admiration of your beauty.

"Am I not allowed to like what I see?" you cooed in his ear, feeling his hand wrap around you waist before reaching one his hands to your cheek, you proceeding in an automatic movement of nesting the plush of your cheek into his hand.

He moved slowly, and you reciprocated as you two pressed your soft and glossy lips against one another, intimately sharing a connection that got deeper with every interlock; that heat you had firmly felt in the lake was now coming back in waves, yearning rolling inside you and begging for more of Astarion's touch — your stomach felt like it was in knots as you felt him tenderly kiss you, and feeling his tongue glide along yours. With no further thought, you instinctively moved forward, feeling his hardened length press against your cunt, which was getting wetter as you anticipated and begged for his next movement. You heard his breath hitch as he felt your warmth against his inner thighs.

"My, my... Aren't you excited?" you blushed at his words; he always had a way with metatheatrical romance, his expressions and mannerisms effortlessly being able to serenade and entice, but it was different with you; you could remember your first night together. It was great, but looking back, you knew he was only exercising what he had learned from automatic actions over those years of torment. But with you, he could be natural, with no acts up his sleeve and no extravagant language to make you surrender to him; it was just a beautiful moment of mutual wanting.

You felt him pull your lower half closer to his, tilting his head slowly to reach your neck: "Such a beautiful... delicious girl," he cooed in your ear. He softly left pecks on your supple neck, leaving a small trail of licks as he continued to make you shiver with anticipation.

You tilted your neck, trusting him and letting him do whatever he wanted, closing your eyes and biting your lip gently as you waited to feel those sharp teeth pierce through your delicate skin, to feel that sharp pain jitter through you and shake you to your core; with invitation, you felt his sharpened teeth graze along, but only feeling a slight scratching pain as he pricked the surface of your skin, breaking a small barrier as he let that line of blood trail down the curve of your neck, and using his wet and rough tongue to collect the pool of warm red blood, sucking your skin with hunger.

"Gods," you whispered as you let out multiple heavy and laboured breaths under his control, feeling his cock hardening against you and prodding in between your thighs.

You took the opportunity to trail your hands down and collect your fingers around the base of his length, feeling him twitch under his grasp as his breathing got deeper and his movements quicking as he swirled his tongue with more urgency along the broken layer of skin.

Your hand moved to tease the tip of his cock, already feeling the dribble of precum nestling the tip; you could feel how tense he was with how your fingers glided up and down the base of his shaft, feeling your core tighten and your slit getting wetter as you felt him tense and shake under your grasp. He whined as you continued to pump your hand slowly and gently, squeezing the base, shuddering and lightly moaning as you reached your spare hand and trickled your fingers through his damp hair, your opposite hands fingers still covering his throbbing erection.

It felt torturous as your hand continued to feather up and down his hot skin, taking the moment as he kicked his head back while he groaned to descend and feel that mossy grass underneath your knees slowly. Now, you were eye level with his twitching length that was begging for more.

"You don't have to," he told you in a whispered hush.

"Oh shush, I want to," you answered as you continued to stare into his red eyes, continuing to journey your hand along his elongated and protruding vein along his large and thick shaft.

Your lips softly surrounded the head, swirling your tongue around as you gently squeezed the base until you forced your mouth around him, releasing muffled moans as he placed his hands and let his fingers venture through the strands of your silky hair.

"F-fuck," he whined as he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as he pushed his hips further into you, biting his lip as he continued to feel your mouth cover his cock, his hands tangling your hair as you continued to gag on his length as he fucked your throat and stared into your beautiful eyes.

That tingling sensation between your legs couldn't be ignored anymore as you reached your fingers along your folds and pressed your ring and middle fingers together to rub your puffy clit in unison to pleasuring Astarion. He was practically a mess as your head continued to bob up and down, not wanting to leave this moment... Until he could hear your muffled moans increase in variety and volume and not want you to do it all by yourself.

He placed his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look up at him and stop your movements: "I can't let you do all the hard work," he said with seduction and charm as he knelt down, cupping your warm face that was overwhelmed with blush on your cheeks, leaving you a quick kiss before gently and slowly pushing you down and climbing on top of you; you could feel him push against your wet pussy, making you release a gentle and breathy moan as Astarion positioned himself in between your thighs as he aligned himself with your wet entrance.

Before continuing, he bent over to leave a trail of kisses, then licked that previous bite that left a red stain and bruise, continuing to leave soft kisses on your chest before placing his honeyed lips on your pebbled nipple, leaving a short and gentle bite and pull that made you release a sharp gasp. His tender kisses moved down to your stomach and navel before lifting himself up to stroke his cock along your slit, prodding your entrance.

"P-please, A-Astarion, I want you so bad," you whimpered, begging for that sweet release that had been building up inside you for so long. You were met with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips and a simple 'Of course, darling' as he slowly pressed himself inside your wet hole, your breathing getting heavier with each moan, your chest getting heavier under his altered will.

"Gods," he muttered as he felt your walls surround him, "so. Fucking. Beautiful," he complimented you in between thrusts as he pushed into your tight entrance that squeezed him, rocking his hips back and forth and your moans filling the surrounding landscape as you felt very inch of him go deeper and deeper within you.

You continued to moan as Astarion grabbed onto one of your breasts, pounding himself inside you as your huffed groans kept going.

He gave you no warnings as his pace quickened, the head of his cock kissing that special spot inside of you that made you whine his name at enlarged volumes, and that made Astarion so close to his own release as he watched your chest rise when you reached your orgasm.

"Fuck," he spat as he felt your tight walls get even tighter in your sweet release, making him spurt inside you and letting his hot cum trickle inside and pool out.

He couldn't help but admire what a messy beauty you were in the moonlight.

authors note: I’ve been craving to get some Astarion content out, I’m so in love with him, and I was inspired by watching a streamer play a shadowheart romance, and the swimming scene is engrained in my head haha. I hope you liked this and all engagement is appreciated, have a lovely day/evening *kiss kiss*

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tropinano · 11 months

Text

List of As Many Fiction Podcasts As I Could Think Of

NOT ORGANIZED! This is a big list of fiction podcasts with no descriptions, meant for the sole purpose of picking one based on the title and just trying it out. Just a big ol' list of titles. Kindof like a blind date! Explore a couple of the ones that intrigue you and come back later for more.

The Hotel

The Night Post

I am in Eskew

Whisperling

Residents of Proserpina Park

The Daedalus Compound

EOS10

The Magnus Archives

Francis Forever

SMILE GROVE

Janus Descending

The Godfrey Audio Guide

Old Gods of Appalachia

Camp Here & There

The Way We Haunt Now

Jack of All Trades

SUPERSUITS

Illuminati Interns

Death by Dying

Life with Leo(h)

Hello from the Hallowoods

Malevolent

The 12:37

Spirit Box Radio

Lost Terminal

Desperado

Neighbourly

The Switchboard

The Mistholme Museum of Mystery, Morbidity and Mortality

Aurora Everlasting

The Swashbuckling Ladies Debate Society

CARAVAN

The Amelia Project

Jar of Rebuke

Monstrous Agonies

Where the Stars Fell

Kisses In The Dark

The Town Whispers

Uncommon Commons

The Author's Anathema

Elevator Pitch

Brimstone Valley Mall

Kane & Feels

Middle:Below

The McIlwraith Statements

Caledonian Gothic

I have seen Niagara

Petrified

In Darkness Vast

The Outside Tapes

Seren

Gather the Suspects

This Foul Earth

John from Home

Glasgow Ghost Stories

The Tower

The Antique Shop

either

Tales from Aletheian Society

The Secret of St Kilda

The Green Horizon

Road X

THE NOWHERE MALL

Seven of Hearts

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio

SubverCity Transmit

The Nuclear Solution

Inkwyrm

Jim Robbie and the Wanderers

Burst

With Caulk and Candles

This Planet Needs a Name

The Glass Appeal

Mar's Best Brisket

Nym's Nebulous Notions

Midnight Radio

The Bright Sessions

When Angels Visit Armadillo

The Mysterious Secrets of Uncle Bertie's Botanarium

Nowhere, On Air

Dark Ages

Welcome to Night Vale

The Silt Verses

Care & Feeding of Werewolves

The Bridge

The Far Meridian

ars PARADOXICA

Among the Stars and Bones

Counterbalance

Primordial Deep

Hannahpocalypse

Someone dies in this Elevator

Mabel

Seen and Not Heard

Abyss FM

Bodies in Space

Among the Stacks

Station Arcadia

Station Blue

Mnemosyne

Wolf 359

Tranthologies

Mx Bad Luck

SAYER

Limetown

What will be here?

Wake of Corrosion

The Pasithea Powder

SINKHOLE

Tell No Tales

The Vesta Clinic

Dreamboy

Georgie Romero is Done For

The Domestic Life of Anthony Todd

Alice isn't Dead

Stellar Firma

Unwell

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

The Heart of Ether

The Orbiting Human Circus

Wooden Overcoats

Greater Boston

Valence

Moonbase Theta Out

The Penumbra Podcast

Desert Skies

Deviser

Leaving Corvat

Red Valley

Back Again Back Again

Sidequesting

#camp here & there #chnt #tma #wtnv #ch&t #welcome to night vale #indie podcast #podcast reccomendation #the penumbra podcast #the hotel #the night post #hello from the hallowoods #old gods of appalachia #i am in eskew #podcasts #audio fiction

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chosopie · 3 months

Note

I love the conquer Sukana but imagine this. You baby brother Yuji, met Sukana on a walk last night after sneaking out and 'befriend' him so y/b obviously is worried cause who this Sukana so she goes with Yuji and meets Sukana herself. Sukana falls in love and rizz her up successfully so technically Yuji Unknownly set Sukana and Y/n up

MISSION: LOVE - RYOMEN SUKUNA

It was night time—the forbidden hours. Yuji mustered up the courage to bring himself outside without asking you for permission. You were sound asleep, without a single worry in your head as your mind wandered into the land of dreams. He felt guilty for going behind your back, especially since all you ever did was take care of him and try to keep him safe from the dangers of the world.

Yuji was already 15, and he was very much capable of taking a night stroll. Except it wasn’t really night anymore, it was midnight, 12:34 A.M. to be exact. You were going to kill him for going out this late, but he knew it was going to be worth it as long as his plan works.

You have been single for quite a while and Yuji thought it was time for you to meet someone. It was his way of giving back after everything you did for him. He wanted you to have someone else in your life. Your routine was pitiful to look at, for it was an endless cycle of work-cook-clean-attend to Yuji. He felt guilty for being your responsibility at all times, since your parents were no longer there to do that job.

“She must be so miserable,” Yuji sighed.

The cold breeze blew his face, and he smiled in delight, taking in the serenity and freedom the midnight had offered him. He raked his hair with his fingers as he continued to walk towards the nearby convenience store. There had to be someone there who could be a perfect candidate. He pondered, his mind replaying the exact words you told him when he asked you what your type was.

“Someone strong, capable, tall, and intimidating. I kind of like the bad boys, you know?” Those were the exact words you said.

Yuji kept repeating your words in his head like a mantra while he walked towards he glass doors. He pushed them open, and his eyes got to work, scanning every person in the room. His eyes landed on the cashier guy. He was quite short and nerdy-looking. He has a nice nose but he just seemed too uptight.

Nope. Next.

There was this tall man in a blue shirt who was checking the fruits. He looked like a foreigner. He had blonde hair, a tall and muscular stature, but he also seemed like some goody two shoes type of guy.

Next.

“Woah,” Yuji gasped as he stared at the big and tall man who was checking the beers in the refrigerator. He had pink hair, tattoos, and an ear piercing. He had this grumpy and intimidating aura. “He’s perfect.”

He quickly walked up to him, but suddenly got shy and scared. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up at the guy. “Excuse me… are you single?”

The big stranger grimaced. “Fuck off, will you? Aren’t you a teenager? Plus, I ain’t into that gay shit.”

“No,” Yuji squeaked, clearly embarrassed and regretting his choice of words now. “You might be interested in my older sister.”

The man thought about it, then looked back at Yuji. “Is she hot?”

“I don’t know how to answer that…”

“Alright, whatever. Give me her number.”

“I’ll just tell her to come here,” Yuji took his phone out and dialed in your number. “Uh, what’s your name, sir?”

“Sukuna.”

“What the fuck?” You groaned and rubbed your eyes. Your phone loudly rang and vibrated.

“Yuji” the contact name was displayed on your screen, causing you to panic. You quickly tapped on the button to accept his call.

“Oh my god, where are you? What happened?” You frantically asked him.

“It’s my new friend Sukuna. Convenience store. Now.” Yuji quickly dropped the call before you could ask more questions.

“Who on earth is Sukuna?” You groaned and rummaged your closet for some clothes, preparing yourself for whatever mess Yuji had gotten himself into. The frustration was getting to you, not only because you were tired and sleepy, but also because Yuji had decided to venture off at night all alone without your permission. What was he even thinking? Of course, you were more worried than mad, especially when you heard the name of another man. A million scenarios raced around your head, your mind trying to pick the most probable situation.

“Yuj!” You pushed the door open and searched all the aisles until you reached the alcohol section where Yuji stood with a stranger. “Who is this?”

Yuji deviously smile, mischief glinting in his eyes. “What’cha think about him? He’s your type, right?”

“Are you kidding me, Yuji?”

Now you were really angry. All that trouble because Yuji was trying to set you up with someone? What if he met someone dangerous? You shook away your frustrations, your attention now on the mad that stood before you. Shit, he is handsome. You hated to admit but Yuji succeeded.

“Yeah, he is,” you quietly mumbled, and you felt your face grow hot.

“What’s that?” Sukuna pointed behind you.

You quickly turned around, and found nothing. “Huh?” When you turned back to face them, you felt a finger poke your cheek.

“What a fucking dumbass,” Sukuna laughed.

“I wouldn’t fall for that if we were friends, but you’re just a stranger,” you protested. Your face was now as pink as his hair.

“Let’s change that, dumb woman.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine, I’ll stop, only because you’re pretty…” Sukuna sighed.

“Good,” you beamed.

“…Pretty dumb.” He added, his big hand ruffling your hair. Ignoring his corny remark, you couldn’t help but smile at the oddly sweet gesture.

Yuji triumphantly smirked, his arms crossed while he watched the two of you. “I’m way too good at this.”

#rev.writes #fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader

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ripleylove · 4 days

Text

Drunk in love.

pairing: Rhea Ripley x fem reader.

genre: fluff.

summary: you were exausted after a night out at the club,and your girlfriend Rhea is here to help you.

A/N: writing this while im waiting for my brownies to get cold :)

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

It was 2 A.M. and you were wasted.

All the the adrenaline started to wore off,and your eyes were starting to close,but you suddenly thought about something: Rhea.

Your wobbly hands reached out for your phone,and you texted her:

You: Rheaaahahahahsowoejd

You: cpme pick mw up at the clu

You: club

Rhea: baby? are u okay?

You: yessssssss hahahahajwh2kwwhksp

Rhea: come on honey,send me ur location so i can pick u up

You: noooooooooooo i wann stay herw

Rhea: if u come home,i will cuddle u

You: *location sent*

Rhea: good girl.

Rhea: im coming in 5 mins okay? wait for me and dont do anything crazy pls

You: *seen*

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

While you were almost falling asleep on the bar counter,you heard the door open,and you felt familiar hands wrapping around you.

"Baby,I'm here. Wanna go home?" The australian accent was strong,and you turned around in her arms.

You wrapped your arms around her waist,and you softly put your head on her chest,her loud heartbeat blocking out the bar music.

"I'll take that as a yes,then." Rhea chuckled,and she picked you up effortlessly, as if you were a feather.

She paid all of your drinks,and she proceeded to leave the club.

You were heavily asleep in her arms,her warmth and her strong hold lulling you to sleep.

"You know that you will have to get rid of you clothes and your make up when we get home,right?" Rhea teased,and you groaned.

"Nooooooo please noooooo" Your words were muffled by her leather jacket,and she laughed.

"You're really something else." Rhea said breathlessly, whilst continuing her giggle session.

You finally reached Rhea's car,and you started to drive to your shared house,while you were snoring (and Rhea was struggling to not laugh).

It was 2:45 a.m. when Rhea softly put you on the bed,starting to take off your sparkly midnight blue dress,and putting on your cute mickey mouse pj's.

"Okay,now let's remove your make up." Rhea talked mostly to herself,since you were sleeping like a bear.

She found some cotton pads and micellar water in the vanity she bought you,and she started to carefully remove your make up,as if you were a porcelain doll who could break in any moment.

Your eyeliner was the hardest thing to clean up, (maybe it's because she almost lingered the cotton pad on your face,scared to hurt you.) but she managed to do it.

You were all fresh and clean,and Rhea was too,so she got into bed next to you,cuddling as she promised.

Feeling her embrace around you,you unknowingly smiled in your sleep,calm and serenity overtaking your senses.

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley oneshot

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papiliotao · 11 months

Text

꒰ 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, wanderer, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, mutual pining, cuddling in kazu and scara's, a bit of a confession in kazuha’s, tranquil beach scenery with kazu, scara is in his wanderer era, you travel with the wanderer, watching fireworks with xiao

summary: under the cover of an enchanting night, romance blossoms.

a/n: i love mutual pining. also, the idea of xiao and scara being soft towards only the reader makes me melt. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

Tonight, waves lap at the shore, ebbing and flowing in a steady rhythm, creating a repetitive beat — a baseline for nature’s songs. The sea reflects the darkening skies above, displays of vivid blue and violet lined with subtle shades of rose gold. Sand shifts as you walk barefoot along the shoreline with your closest friend, each grain absorbing the remnants of daytime warmth.

“KAZUHA, hurry up!” you yell, rushing ahead despite the resistance of the miniature dunes beneath you. Playful giggles fill the air as you run and Kazuha chases after you, trying his best to ensure that you remain within his sight.

“Ah, wait!” he calls back, following after you.

Although your legs carry you far, you eventually begin to pant, and your body feels far too heavy to continue on. In a single motion, you dramatically fall to the ground, thankful for the sand below acting as padding. You crash, but fortunately, you’re not injured.

Seconds later, Kazuha catches up. He stands above you, gazing down at your breathless face and smiling softly. Embers of adoration ignite in crimson eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, burning brightly as he offers a hand to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing one of your hands firmly. In one swift motion, he pulls you to your feet, and you nod.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say between gasps for air. You’re still tired, and you suppose you should have conserved some energy instead of attempting to run at the speed of light. However, you know you’ll recover eventually.

Kazuha stares at you for a second, irises mirroring shades of sunset flickering over your each and every feature before he shakes his head.

“You look like you need a rest,” he tells you.

He sits down on the sand and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him. You do as he instructs, and soon enough, you find yourself on the ground beside Kazuha, your shoulders nearly touching.

You glance over at him, admiring the way his snow white hair, highlighted by the dying crepuscule, billows in the sea breeze. Autumnal pools of molten rubies fill with small flecks of gold as he keeps his gaze fixated upon the tranquil sea before you. But nothing rivals the smile that comes to adorn his features — full of wonder, an encapsulation of the sun’s brilliance and the moon’s serenity.

Ethereal. That’s the word that comes to mind while you stare at the beautiful boy next to you, and yet, you fear it’s still not enough to describe him.

He’s perfect. His allure rivals that of the panoramic scenery before you.

You wish you could stay in the moment forever — or at the very least, permanently etch every last detail of today into your memory.

Soon enough, the last threads of warmth are pulled from the earth with the disappearance of the sun, and a chill begins to radiate as the cold light of the moon overtakes the sky. Every hint of marigold, coral, and canary completely vanishes. In their place, a deeper midnight blue ebbs into the heavens. As the wind passes by, you feel a slight shiver run down your spine.

And your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you cold, my dearest?” Kazuha asks you.

The term of endearment causes a warmth to rise to your cheeks. Although affectionate words aren’t rare with Kazuha, your friend is making it sound as though the two of you are a couple.

However, your embarrassment fades as another gust of glacial fervor drifts by to steal the heat from your face, you force yourself to nod. You know that even if you lie, Kazuha will be able to see right through you. You’ve been friends for a while now, and given Kazuha’s attunement to nature, it’s nearly impossible to deceive him.

The wandering samurai wraps an arm around you, igniting a warmth akin to the caress of golden sunrays. His embrace is so warm… so comforting…

You feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and your head involuntarily falls to Kazuha’s shoulder. Slumber begins to overtake you. Tendrils of tantalization pull you deeper into a realm of oneiric euphoria, blurring out the waking world in the process.

But through it all, thoughts of the boy beside you, the one who embodies transient autumns in both looks in personality, never leave your mind.

Just as you feel yourself falling into a plane of enchanting fantasies, you hear six soft words spoken in tandem, whispered by a voice more delicate than the marine zephyrs surrounding you.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Wow, you’re really bad at this,” the WANDERER huffs. “At this rate, we’ll freeze to death.”

You can feel the Wanderer’s indigo gaze, a flawless mimic of the night sky, piercing into the depths of your soul, scrutinizing your every move. At the moment, the only illumination is provided by phantasmagoric stars dotting a canvas of murky navy and violet, but it seems to be enough for him to make out your silhouette against the surrounding shadows.

You sigh, tangible frustration permeating the otherwise serene evening air as you exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I guess I’m just tired or something.”

For a few seconds, a defeaning silence fills the atmosphere, transforming the ambience into one of awkwardness.

And then you feel the Wanderer sit down beside you.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “You’re clearly exhausted and in no state to be starting a fire.” For some reason, his tone of voice is far less pointed than usual, changing from an embodiment of everwinter storms to something more akin to a honeyed warmth — a tranquil portrait of summer’s joys.

You open your mouth to apologize again, but before you can speak, you hear grass rustling as the Wanderer stands up. Your gaze follows his barely-visible figure as he walks a short distance from where you’re sitting back to the small tent you set up earlier. He rummages around for a second before returning and draping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” he says, sitting back down next to you.

Your traveling companion looks up at the star-speckled sky, and you swear you can see galaxies full of vibrant magenta and ocean blue reflected in his irises.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you ask, breaking the fragile, short-lived silence into fragments with words that echo in the midnight air, seemingly amplified in the midst of a peaceful moment.

The Wanderer simply shakes his head in response.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” he says.

And yet you still can’t help but feel guilty. You’re nice and cozy underneath the protection of a velvety blanket, safe from the frigid fingers of encroaching night. Meanwhile, the Wanderer is left to fend for himself.

What if you just share the blanket?

The idea is certainly tempting, but you’re a little too scared to follow through with it. Throughout your time with the Wanderer, you’ve gotten the feeling that he’s rather unfond of touch. After all, with his snarky attitude and unfriendly demeanor, he’s the antithesis of a cuddly person.

However, as you shift to sit in a more comfortable position, your fingers accidentally brush against his, causing you to flinch.

He’s cold. Incredibly cold.

And yet not a shiver runs down his spine.

Is he pretending to be alright for your sake?

The mere thought is enough to send another wave of warmth through your body, and suddenly, you feel less alone in the midst of enigmatic darkness. You realize that although he doesn’t outright show it, the Wanderer cares about you. Your heart flutters with the delicacy of a butterfly’s iridescent wings.

“You’re looking out for me,” you whisper under your breath. A small smile dances across your lips, and you decide to take a risk, jumping off a ledge of certainty and into an abyss filled with unknown feelings and fragile bonds.

With one swift movement, you take the end of the blanket closer to the Wanderer and wrap it around his shoulders. Now you’re sharing, and you can feel him pressing up against you. You swear you can feel the tempo of your heartbeat intensifying, each thump resounding in rapid succession.

To your surprise, the Wanderer doesn’t try to push you away. Instead, he scoots towards you.

“You don’t mind this?” you ask him, anticipating his response with bated breath.

For a second, silence fills the night, sending your mind into a polarizing frenzy and your heart into a panic. However, when the Wanderer speaks, you feel the tension leave your body.

“I don’t…” he starts, pausing briefly to consider his next words. Perhaps the surrounding darkness gives him courage, or perhaps he simply can’t suppress his feelings anymore because his next words are entirely unexpected, “but only because it’s you.”

Petals of red and gold bloom into voids of darkness, illuminating endless night in a display of phosphorescent flowers. But the sky isn’t the only thing that undergoes a stunning metamorphosis due to the luminous grace of the fireworks painting the shadows. In the edges of your vision, borders frayed from staring at the breathtaking sight before you for far too long, you catch an spark blaze alight within the honeyed amber of XIAO’s eyes. A subtle smile graces his features.

It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.

You turn your attention to the beautiful boy beside you, absolutely captivated by the grin adorning his face. Displays of happiness from Xiao are rare, occurrences rivaling the convergence of sun and moon — a total eclipse. Your heart beats erratically, creating an exhilarating backing for a nocturne composed of the crackling of fireworks.

“You’re smiling,” you whisper.

Xiao grunts dismissively.

“Nonsense,” he says, wiping all traces of childish wonder and carefree bliss from his face. “The foolish antics of humans mean nothing to the Adepti.”

You feel the corners of your lips turn down. It’s almost like Xiao’s mood is infectious at the moment. When he’s smiling, you’re smiling, and when the euphoria fades from his expression, a certain lightness seems to vanish from the atmosphere.

“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out meek, dulled by the immense disappointment filling your heart.

You want nothing more than to see Xiao happy. Throughout your time together, you’ve grown to care about him — admittedly a little bit more than platonically — and yet despite your concerns, you feel like Xiao doesn’t share the same sentiments. Xiao doesn’t quite care about his joy as much as you do. He’s far more content with protecting you, and although his actions never fail to cause giddiness to overwhelm you, you can’t help but want to see him smile for once.

Perhaps he’s scared of shattering the cold and distant image he’s crafted, despite the fact that you already know it’s all a fragile illusion formed from jagged shards of the most delicate crystal. Deep down, you know Xiao is caring and warm, akin to a flawless summer day, complete with golden rays of sunlight beaming down at you and a honeyed caress.

It seems that Xiao has noticed the negativity radiating off of you because as you avert your gaze, staring at the wooden floor of Wangshu Inn’s balcony, you hear Xiao’s voice once again.

“Wait,” he interjects, cutting through the thick silence with a singular pointed word, sharper than a dagger constructed from the toughest of diamonds. “I… should explain myself,” he mumbles.

Although you look up once more to make eye contact with Xiao, you’re unsuccessful. Now he’s the one avoiding your stare, and he looks nothing short of endearingly shy. Gilded lamplight illuminates his features, making the sunset blush dawning on his cheeks all the more apparent to you.

“I wasn’t…” Xiao manages before pausing once more. “I wasn’t only smiling because of the fireworks,” he forces himself to say.

His words pique your interest. Although the rest of the night is exceptionally beautiful, the various acrylic hues burgeoning across a canvas painted a dark obsidian shade are the most noteworthy sights of the evening. When you try to think of anything that even closely parallels their beauty, nothing comes to mind.

“I felt at peace,” he says, his voice softening, “because you were beside me.”

You inhale sharply. The air feels far too electrifying at the moment, shocking you with an unexpected elation. You didn’t expect Xiao to be so forward, and yet, here he is, more or less telling you how much you mean to him. Many words remain unspoken, but you already know Xiao well enough to understand the weight of that one sentence.

As you glance over to the adeptus once more, a grin dances across your face. Aureate galaxies meet your gaze, sparkling with the subtlest hints of adoration.

The blush across Xiao’s cheeks only intensifies as the corners of his lips turn up once again in a shy smile.

It’s luminous. His expression, a true embodiment of equanimity and contentment, turns even the most breathtaking of fireworks more vibrant and the brightest of stars more radiant.

It’s at that moment that an epiphany strikes.

Contrary to what you had believed just moments prior, there’s one thing that rivals the stunning nature of the rainbow-infused pyrotechnics before you: the soft grin adorning Xiao’s features, accentuating each part of his face with a light brighter than that of an imploding supernova.

thank you for reading! i have a few more drafts that are close to finished, so i might post again soon (no promises though because i tend to procrastinate on my writing).

#r.archives *ೃ༄#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #wanderer x reader #kazuha fluff #scaramouche fluff #xiao fluff

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darling-i-read-it · 11 months

Text

Whispers

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: insidious 5 spoilers, literally i think tahts it

Author’s Note: In theory this is a part 2 to blue paint but honestly could be written by itself if you just squint lol. Everyone wanted me to write more for dalton and i was at WORK people but i am here to provide a plotless fluff. An old classic style of mine 🫡Also this fic could literally be called ‘maya googles whispered synonyms’

Everyone that asked to be tagged <3 : @geeksareunique, @chaoticxbee, @snixx2088, @ellaneyt, @bespinnn,

Summary: The night you and Dalton just kind of let your relationship silently grow to avoid the horror of his situation.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You could feel sleep starting to overtake you. It was in your eyes, the drooping of your lids as you sat against the twin bed. Dalton was sitting on the ground as well, across from you. You narrowed your gaze at him, pursing your lips. You both had class in the morning. He still had blue paint stained on his face. You had leaned him over the sink and scrubbed to no avail. Finally you had both given up, conceding to his embarrassment in the morning.

The sticky heat of the day had given way for the night chills. You could feel the difference in the cracked window. The breeze had started to get to you so you threw a blanket over your shoulders.

Dalton, not wanting to fall asleep, sat across from you with a hoodie on.

“Uno.”

“No way,” you muttered. You looked at the cards in front of you, a large stack turned upwards and a yellow 7 card on top. “You just had like 15 cards. Take off your hoodie.”

“No!” Dalton exclaimed, laughing a bit.

“You’re cheating. There’s no way I missed that. I’m literally the only other person here,” you offered. He shook his head. The clock was ticking away past midnight.

“It’s late, you’re just starting to get delirious.” You shook your head, tossing your stack of cards down beside you. Usually you would never let a game go, especially one that was decently close. But you weren’t sure if you were even going to wake up to your alarm in the morning, let alone go to class.

“Am not.”

“I told you to go to bed hours ago.”

“Didn’t want you to sleepwalk on me,” you muttered.

“Astral project.”

“Whatever.” You looked up at the window. You could see the moon outside tonight in the clear sky. It had been a while since you saw the nighttime in a peaceful way. You were so used to being passed out by the time any kind of sereneness came along, or at a party trying not to pass out. It had been too long since it was just you and the night sky. And Dalton.

Your phones were laying on the bedside table, out of the way and silent. You told Dalton to call his mom but he refused. He said he could do it on his own. He was probably just overreacting, he promised you. Overreacting didn’t make someone stay up late before an 8:30 class but you decided not to mention that.

“I think I’m out D,” you muttered through a yawn. He nodded. He still looked wide awake, sans the bags under his eyes.

“I wish we had a TV in here.”

“Then we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street,” you joked. He half smiled, one of his cute little smirks. When you came to college you never thought you would admire these quieter nights the most.

“Yeah.” You stretched, trying to shake the sleep out of your eyes.

“I think I’m still gonna try to go to class tomorrow.”

“You know I don’t have a choice.” You nodded once and stood up, stretching. You felt your body expand as a satisfying calmness came over your body. Dalton grabbed the uno cards at your feet and started to put them in the box. “My last card was red by the way. You could’ve won it.”

“Rematch tomorrow,” you suggested. You put your blanket over the empty bed. It looked like it hadn’t been slept in. There was no indent of a human having been there, no one having a good night's sleep. Though it didn’t look exactly comforting, it also didn’t look unappealing to your tired mind. Dalton had given you one of his pillows. You plugged in your phone beside you and glanced over at Dalton’s side of the room. You had looked at his drawings before but never studied them.

Things seemed clearer at night.

There was a picture of his mom at the piano above his pillow. He was moving around, shuffling, getting ready for bed and doing the last things he needed to. His head obscured your view.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered. “Your mom.” He looked at his sketch like he had forgotten it was there.

“Thanks,” he muttered. His eyes lingered for a moment. You wanted to ask if he missed her but you didn’t. Putting him in that sort of emotional position would’ve been too much for so late. “She writes music. I remember when I was a kid she would sit at the piano when she had a moment to herself. My dad was always working so I guess I thought it was her job.” He shrugged. His eyes moved away.

“She sounds like a nice lady.”

“She is. She deserves better than that guy,” he grumbled. He sat down on his bed. You were still sitting on yours. You hadn’t climbed under the covers, even though the cold was nipping at your arms. Chris’s words lingered in your brain for a bit, the prospect of staying in the same twin bed. You shook it off and went to grab the edge of the blanket.

Dalton’s eyes stayed on you. He didn’t want to go to bed yet.

“Do you mind the night light?” he asked, voice laced with exhaustion and a little embarrassment.

“Nope. I like a little mood lighting.” You climbed under the covers. Once your head hit in the pillow it was like relief flooded through your bones. You reached up and turned off the lamp beside the bed. You could still see the outline of Dalton. His face, his hair. “I like your hair when it’s down,” you whispered. Your voice was gentle, slightly fueled by the lack of sleep. You could see him turn to look at you as he was getting under the covers. You nuzzled your head into the pillow.

“Thank you,” he muttered, awkwardly. You smiled. You liked it when he squirmed a little bit.

“I set an alarm.”

“Okay.” There was a silence. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Dalton,” you whispered. Your name hung on his lips but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead he just watched as your eyes shut into an even calmness. The contours of your face were illuminated by his night light.

He rested his cheek against the pillow.

He admitted to being potentially dangerous to you and you stayed. He felt safer with you. Like he wasn’t in this alone.

You fell asleep in 15 minutes. He could tell because your face was completely relaxed. There was no tenseness in your features, no worries about anything except getting rest. When he was positive you had drifted off he sat up, grabbing his sketchbook off the center table.

He had drawn nothing but dark memories lately. A red door with blood haunted him. A face he didn’t recognize but one that he knew, watched him sleep. After the darkness flooding his brain he was happy to think of his mom. He was happy to remember her when she was tranquil. He liked the sketches that were less cursed.

He started to sketch you.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness easily. Maybe if he was super tired the next night then he wouldn't be able to dream or astral project. Just sleep. He wouldn’t mind spending tonight sketching you with observing eyes. He drew your hair as it fell in front of your face. The way your fingers gripped the blanket. Your eyes, fluttering with dreams. He wondered what you were dreaming of. He wondered if you ever dreamt of him.

Just the thought brought a redness to his cheeks.

He grabbed his airpod to put on some music.

The room was so still.

Your blanket touching the ground. The wind from the cracked window. Your even breathing, mixing with his, the only living sounds in the space. His dried paint on the table. The light from the hallway seeping in under the door. His unpacked bag at the foot of your bed.

Your bed. That wasn’t your bed. That was an empty bed, one that would be filled by anybody.

He sketched your nose.

That could be your bed. He had nothing against that. A sleepover every night, a buddy to help protect him from the nightmares. He thought of his parents. His brother. His little sister. He was safe.

He turned the focus onto your closed eyes. He was listening to some indie rock or something, whatever he had playing from earlier. He wondered what kind of music you listened to.

You moved. You hummed under your breath, eyes fluttering open. It hadn’t been that long since you fell asleep, maybe only an hour. It was two in the morning.

You forced your eyes open. Dalton was still awake, sitting against the wall.

“Still can’t sleep?” you whispered. The sleep remained in your eyes.

“Not sure where I’ll float too.” You nodded. You slowly sat up, keeping your blanket around your shoulder. “What’re you doing?” he whispered. Speaking any louder would break the muffled moment.

You shuffled over to his side of the room. He looked up at you, shielding his sketchbook. You barely noticed it. You stood at the side of his bed. There was a beat where neither of you moved. You nodded towards the bed.

“Lay down.” He squinted, unsure of what your intentions were. He put the sketchbook on the side of the bed, onto the floor. He had it facing the ground so you wouldn’t see your face. He couldn’t let you know how he perceived you quite yet.

He did as he was told. When he was comfortable you moved his blanket aside and got under the covers. You put your blanket over his so you had double the warmth.

Dalton froze.

Did he put his hand on you? Did he just let you be? He had to touch you, there was no way he could sleep here, stiff as a board, all night.

“I don’t have cooties D,” you whispered. You easily got comfortable beside him. Your eyes stayed open as you looked at him, straight ahead. “You can touch me,” you said, even lower, so much so that your voice almost gave out. “If this is okay.”

“It’s okay,” he promised. You smiled sleepily.

He put his hand on your side and you pushed yourself closer to him. You took the initiative and placed your hand over his waist. He moved so that you could nuzzle yourself into his chest. He tried not to breathe too heavily but he was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“Sleep,” you breathed. “I’ll keep you grounded.”

His breath hitched. He finally closed his eyes.

He fell asleep quickly with you in his arms. He remained in his spot the whole night, the first time in a week.

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious the red door spoilers

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

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As The Gods Intended

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original female character (Aela Targaryen) Warnings: DD;DNE, twincest/incest/Targcest, explicit smut, dubcon/noncon, angst. 18+ Word count: ~4k

Summary: In the wake of Lucerys' Velaryon's death, Aemond panics and makes some life altering choices that will have catastrophic consequences for his twin sister, Aela. Based on this request.

Thanks and spanks to my emotional support grotbag @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for enduring my snippets, beta'ing this into something readable and her unparalleled knowledge of High Valyrian. Love you forever.

The head and neck of Lucerys Velaryon’s dragon, Arrax, washed up beneath the cliffs below Storm’s End three days ago. Lucerys’s body has yet to be found.

It has been almost a week, six agonisingly long days, since Aela Targaryen last saw or heard from her twin brother, Aemond. He is presumed dead, along with his beloved Vhagar.

Aemond had been sent to Storm’s End to acquire Lord Borros Baratheon’s allegiance to their brother King Aegon II in exchange for agreeing to marry one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters. It had transpired that Lucerys had also been sent, acting as a messenger for his mother, Rhaenyra, to acquire Lord Baratheon’s allegiance to her own claim to the Iron Throne. When neither prince had been heard from following their arrival, further messengers were dispatched. Lord Baratheon had revealed that Lucerys had arrived in the Round Hall while Aemond was present and had received a frosty reception from his uncle. An altercation between the two had caused Borros to ask them both to leave. The two had not been seen since and neither had their dragons.

Aela had wept upon hearing the news of the discovery of Arrax’s remains. It was not difficult to imagine what had happened and it had clearly ended in tragedy. She’d lost her nephew and her beloved twin brother. The colour went out of Aela’s world that day. While a funeral for Lucerys had been held, one for Aemond had yet to occur. Their mother, Alicent, could not bring herself to say goodbye. For this Aela was grateful; she was not ready to let him go either.

It is long past midnight as Aela sits by her window, staring out over King’s Landing. Sleep has evaded her since Aemond went missing. Whose bed will she climb into when she has a nightmare now? Her twin flame has been snuffed out and she is lost.

A shadow in the candlelight of her peripheral vision causes her to turn her head toward the door and she freezes. Aemond. There he stands, a serene look in his uncovered blue eye, staring at her from the doorway. Her heart leaps into her throat at the sight, quickly replaced by a feeling of overwhelming joy as he closes the gap between them and pulls her into a tight embrace.

“Hāedus, it is so good to see you,” he murmurs, stroking her long white hair. Sister.

Aela feels tears of happiness prickle her eyes. She pulls back to study his face, still unable to quite comprehend that the man in front of her is really her twin brother. “Aemond… I thought you weren’t coming back… You are alive!” He gives her a gentle reassuring smile. “I am alive, but for how long is up to you, dōnus mēres. Will you help your brother?” Sweet one.

She nods her head without hesitation. “Anything for you, lēkys. But first, we need to tell mother you are safe. She will be so pleased!” Brother.

“No!”

Aela flinches at the harshness of Aemond’s tone. He has never spoken to her with such a lack of care before.

His face softens and he cups her cheeks. “Forgive me, Aela; I do not mean to be so cruel. But you must understand that my life depends on your discretion.”

She looks up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “Why can no one know that you are back?” He takes a step back from his twin sister, grasping her hands in his. He inhales a deep breath before he speaks. “There has been a terrible tragedy… one that I will surely get the blame for.” A sense of unease creeps over her. “You mean - what happened to Luke?”

He pauses for a moment, his thumbs rub circles on the backs of his sister’s hands. “So you have heard? You must understand that it was an accident. Would you really allow your brother to be punished for something that is not his fault?”

“Of course not!” She is horrified by the very idea. “Then you must come with me, hāedus. Only you can save me. Get dressed.” The urgency of Aemond’s voice is enough for her to know there is no more room for questions or arguments. She hurries behind her modesty screen, strips out of her nightgown and begins to redress in the clothes she had discarded earlier that evening.

Her eyes go wide with surprise as she sees him reach for her nightgown as it hits the floor. She wonders what he is doing, but her train of thought is cut short when he throws a hooded cloak over the screen at her. It is the same one she has worn many times to sneak around Flea Bottom unrecognised.

“Put that on. Hurry,” he commands.

Aela does as she is told and wraps the cloak around her body, coming out from behind the privacy screen.

He steps towards her, pulling the hood over her head and stroking her cheek. “Good girl,” he praises, taking her hand and leading her through the same passage they have used to sneak away from the Red Keep many times before.

Aela notices her nightgown is still bunched up in Aemond’s free hand. He is walking at too quick of a pace for her to be able to ask about it, despite her burning curiosity. Her legs struggle to keep up with his long strides as he hurries them down Aegon’s High Hill, along Shadowblack Lane and out towards the Blackwater Rush.

She gasps as she watches him discard her nightgown onto the muddy bank.

“Aemond - what are you doing?”

He turns to her, his face eerily calm as he speaks matter-of-factly. “They will say you were so stricken by grief over the death of your twin that you drowned yourself. Don’t you see? It is the perfect plan. We can disappear forever.”

She feels a chill run down her spine. She stares at him with abject horror. “You want… people to think we’re dead?” The negative intonation of her response seems to go unheeded by him. He simply nods. “It is the only way. I cannot face what I have done. I will be branded a kinslayer.”

“But you said it was an accident…”

She feels like she is experiencing a nightmare from which she is desperate to wake up. Her heart races as she stares at her twin brother’s face, searching for any sign of regret or remorse for his actions. Waves of nausea pulsate through her stomach.

“It was an accident,” Aemond insists. “I only meant to scare him…”

She feels her heart constrict, and a sob bubbles in her throat. “Gods, Aemond… What did you do to Luke?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he snaps, his nostrils flaring with annoyance as he stares down at his sister. “If that stupid bitch Maris Baratheon hadn't taunted me, I would never have gone after him. Had Vhagar heeded my commands, he would not be dead. So, you see, none of this is my fault.”

Aela reels at the revelation. Hot tears roll down her cheeks. She shakes her head, backing away from Aemond. “You are a murderer-”

He grabs her by her upper arms, his grip so tight it will surely leave bruises.

“I am your brother! He was a bastard, he took my eye! How can you be so cruel?” He shakes her slightly, continuing. “Have I not suffered enough? Would you prefer to see me dead? Do you not love me?”

A pang of guilt blooms heavy in Aela’s chest as she looks tearfully at his frantic face. “Of course I do-”

“Then you must come with me. Do this for me. There is no one that will ever love you like I love you, Aela. We are twins.”

He takes her hand once more and leads her along the banks of the Blackwater Rush and away from King’s Landing as he speaks. She is too overcome by grief and shock to fight it.

“It will be a bit of a walk, I’m afraid,” he informs her. “I could not land Vhagar too close to the city without drawing attention.”

At the mention of his dragon, her pace falters a little, remembering her own. “What of Myrmex? I cannot simply leave him.”

When Aela and Aemond had been born, they’d each had a dragon’s egg placed in their cradle. While his had never hatched, and he’d later claimed Vhagar, her own had. A beautiful emerald green dragon, named Myrmex who she’d grown and bonded with over the years. The thought of leaving him behind in the Dragonpit was simply too much for Aela’s heart to bear.

He does not look back at her, leading her along the riverbank. “A necessary sacrifice, I’m afraid, dōnus mēres. Taking him is too much of a risk. You’d be seen.” She sniffles, allowing herself to be pulled along by her twin brother. “But he is my dragon… I love him…”

He stares coldly down at her. “I am your brother. Myrmax may have hatched in your cradle, but you and I shared the same womb. How can you be so selfish?”

His voice softens, and she looks away guiltily. “He will be well cared for in the Dragonpit. And who knows? Perhaps he will find you again one day. Your bond with him is strong. Almost as strong as ours.”

Aela’s heart aches for her dragon. She and Aemond walk the rest of the way in silence until the gargantuan frame of Vhagar looms ahead.

“Where will we go?” she asks meekly.

“I have found us a place. You need not worry. I have spent the last few days preparing for your arrival.”

“You - you planned this?” She knows she doesn’t even need to ask this. Of course he has. Aemond had always been too clever, too calculating for his own good. It was a quality she had once admired. Now, it frightened her.

“I knew as soon as I saw Luke fall from the sky that there was no coming back from this. And I could not just leave you,” he says, helping to lift her into Vhagar’s saddle, climbing on behind her. “Worry not, hāedus, lēkia will take care of you now.”

Her mind goes blank as soon as Vhagar takes to the sky. The rush of cold air and the weightless roiling of her stomach with every movement supersedes all other thoughts and feelings. Though she has ridden on dragonback many times with Aemond before, she imagines she feels his chest pressed tighter to her back than usual. His arms seem to wrap more firmly around her waist. Surely it is just that, though; her imagination.

Eventually, as dawn breaks, Vhagar lands in the foothills of the Red Mountains, close to the stormlands' border with the Reach, east of the Cockleswhent and southeast of the Blueburn. She looks out over the ruins of Summerhall Castle, once used as a place for members of House Targaryen to spend their summers. It had been almost destroyed in a fire and never restored to its former glory.

“Here, Aemond? You can’t be serious,” she says as her brother helps her down from Vhagar.

“I know it’s not much to look at, jorrāelītsos, but I think you’ll find it rather comfortable. And no one will come looking for us here.” She hopes that he is wrong. There is nothing she wants more than for them to be found and an end to this madness. As though he senses her trepidation, Aemond’s eye makes contact with hers, her feet finally reaching the ground. “And you’d better hope no one finds us - you are implicated in this, after all.” Little love.

She is too trusting of her twin brother to pick up on the subtle threat in his voice. Anguished, she protests. “But I haven’t done anything!”

“It would not seem that way to anyone from the outside looking in.” He cocks his head at her. “You are my twin sister. You have faked your own death and come away with me after I killed our nephew. Some might say you’d had the whole thing planned all along… I would simply hate for that to happen to you, hāedus. My heart could not take it.”

She wails piteously at this. She dreads to think what people will say about her. Her heart breaks at the idea that she could ever be considered a co-conspirator to murder.

“Do not worry, dōnus mēres,” he soothes, pulling her tight to his chest. “Lēkia will protect you.” He holds her a few moments longer, until her tears finally subside. “Let’s get you inside and show you around your new home, hm?”

Aemond places a hand on the small of his twin sister’s back, ushering her inside. Large portions of the castle are without a roof and in complete ruin.

“We will repair all of this eventually, restore it to its former glory,” he says airily, guiding her through.

The few rooms that are habitable have had the remaining furniture pushed into them to create a makeshift solar, sleeping quarters and a space for them to eat. It does not quite live up to the lavish surroundings of the Red Keep, but is certainly not the squalor that she had been expecting.

“This is… nice,” she says, a slight hint of surprise to her tone.

He smiles warmly. “It will be the perfect place for us to start our family.”

“Start a family?” she asks. Dread is beginning to gnaw its way through her insides. She is almost afraid to hear Aemond’s answer.

“Yes, hāedus. We will marry and create heirs. We will start our own faction of House Targaryen.”

“Aemond, we cannot! You are to be betrothed to a Baratheon and me to a Lannister. You are my brother. My twin!”

Her heart races as she looks at him with pleading eyes. He remains utterly unaffected by her resistance.

“Those betrothals are null and void. They are a part of old lives. We are forging a new one. And so what if we are siblings? Helaena and Aegon are married, and the Conqueror married both of his sisters. Why should we be any different?”

She is panicked. She does not know what to say. “Because… because… I don’t…”

“You don’t love me!” he accuses, cutting her off, his brow furrowed, his blue eye alight with outrage.

“I do love you, lēkys, I do!” she attempts to argue back, tears welling in her eyes.

“Then you will obey me,” he states coolly.

She gasps as Aemond’s mouth descends upon hers, the sound cuts off as an “mmmph” as he presses his lips to hers. He tangles his fingers into her hair, holding her head in place as he kisses her. It feels wrong and yet she kisses him back, ignoring the pit that is opening in the depths of her guts, eager not to anger him further.

She has kissed her brother on the lips before, but they have been chaste kisses between siblings. What he is bestowing upon her now is a passionate kiss, filled with lust, the type reserved for lovers. She has never experienced a kiss like this before. She never anticipated that the first time would be with her twin brother. She feels nauseated.

When he finally pulls away, he scoops her into his arms, carrying her towards the bed. “We shall create an heir today, jorrāelītsos.”

Her blood runs cold at the suggestion. “Aemond, we can’t - I can’t - I’ve never… My virtue is still intact!”

She attempts to squirm out of his arms, but he is too strong for her.

His voice is saccharinely sweet as he smiles down at her. “As it should be, hāedus. You have waited for your brother like a good girl.”

She shakes her head, panic rooting itself deep inside of her as he lays her on the bed. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words will not come.

“You see, Aela, we are two halves of the same whole. You and I were created for each other. Isn’t that beautiful? No one else can have you but me.”

He cards his fingers through her long, white hair and strokes her cheek, before pulling at the lacings on the front of her bodice.

Aela finally finds her voice, feebly attempting to push Aemond’s hands away. “Lēkys, no, please!”

Aemond shushes her, swatting at her hands and continuing to undress her. “You love your lēkia, don’t you? I have waited many years to see you all grown up. You will not deny your beloved brother his prize, will you?”

She whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to think about the fact that her twin brother is now stripping her naked.

The cold air causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh as Aemond finally pulls away her small clothes.

“Open your eyes for me, dōnus mēres,” he whispers.

As her lilac eyes open slowly, she is met by the sight of him sitting above her, drinking in the sight of her with appreciation shining brightly in his gaze.

“Gevie,” he states simply. Beautiful.

It is then she realises that he has also removed his clothing. She stares at him wide eyed. She has not seen her brother naked since they were children. They had shared a bed up until they were thirteen years old, until one morning she’d awoken to find the hardness of his arousal pressed against her buttocks. She’d been unsure of what it was and after speaking to her mother and seeing her horrified reaction, she’d understood it was something wrong. Aela and Aemond had been made to sleep apart ever since.

“Feel what you do to me,” he murmurs, taking her hand and wrapping it around his hardened cock.

She whines, attempting to pull her hand away, but he keeps it there. He is firm and warm to the touch.

“You - you cannot put that inside of me,” she squeaks. “It will not fit.”

“Silly girl,” he chuckles. “You were made specifically to take me inside of you. No one else. But I will prepare you first.”

Tears well up in her eyes as he passes his digits through the delicate silver curls of her mound, swiping his fingers through her folds. He roughly inserts his middle finger inside of her, curling it upwards and dragging it in and out. She has never even touched herself so intimately, so to have the intrusion of her brother between her legs is surreal and makes her want to curl in on herself to hide her shame.

“So tight,” he comments, almost as if he is speaking to himself. “And becoming so wet.”

“Aemond, I don’t like this!” she whines, covering her face with her hands.

“Oh, but your body tells another story entirely,” he says, his tone mocking as he inserts a second finger.

She cries out at the sensation. “That’s too much! You’re putting too much inside of me!”

He chuckles dryly. “You’ll need to take much more than two fingers if I’m to fuck you. How else will you bear my children, idañītsos?” Little twin.

She shakes her head against the pillows, attempting to close her legs around Aemond’s wrist and halt his movements. “I don’t - I don’t-”

Never slowing the movement of his fingers inside of her, he cuts her off. “You don’t… love your twin brother? You’d refuse me and break my heart? Are you really so cruel?” She sobs, her own guilt outweighing the disgust and shame she feels at the unwilling invasion of her body. “No, no, no. I love you, Aemond, I swear I do!”

“Mmm,” he concurs. “Then this is how you show me you love me. Do you understand?”

She freezes as he withdraws his fingers from her, replacing them with the tip of his cock. She screws her eyes shut, screaming out at the pain as he pushes inside. It feels like she is being torn in half.

“Gods…you are so tight,” he grits out. “You have to relax, or I will never get inside.”

Her body is wracked with sobs. She feels like the intrusion is unending. The pain is unlike anything she has ever experienced. White hot flames of agony lick their way between her legs and up her spine.

“Allow me to put you out of your misery,” he says softly.

For a moment, she dares to hope he will have mercy on her and stop, until she feels him clamp a hand over her mouth. In one rough shove, he pushes himself into her to the hilt. Her agonised shriek is muffled by his palm.

His eye flutters closed in satisfaction. “Finally, we are one. As the gods intended.”

Her mind reels. Surely the gods would never intend for something that feels so vile and so painful?

Beginning to thrust in and out of her, barely giving her body time to adjust to him, he grunts. “Does this feel good, hāedus? Is lēkia making you feel good?”

She is mortified by the question. Why would anything so vulgar ever feel good?

“No,” she answers honestly, “You are hurting me.”

“It doesn’t feel pleasurable because you don’t love me the way that I love you,” he states, continuing to thrust inside of her. “This feels good for me, because I love you with all my heart. Lēkia will help you to love him. Don’t worry.”

Aemond presses a finger to the pearl at the apex of her sex, rubbing tight circles as he continues to rut into her.

Her hips jolt at the new sensation, unsure of what’s happening to her body. Her hands fly to his shoulders, clutching at them desperately. “What - what - are you doing to me?”

His face is smug as he moves above her. “You’ve never touched yourself have you, idañītsos? So innocent and all mine. I will bring you pleasure like you have never felt before. Only I can give you that.”

He speeds up both his ministrations to her bud alongside his thrusts, and Aela can begin to feel the inside of herself clench around him. It is completely involuntary, but it’s apparent that he feels it too.

“Oh, you like that?” he mocks. “Good girl.”

The moan that escapes her mouth sounds alien to her. The slow burning ache between her legs that builds towards a heated pressure is unfamiliar to her. Her eyes go wide and she feels like she needs to push towards something, but she is unsure how. She whines, clawing at his shoulders, desperate to ground herself.

“You are about to peak, hāedus,” he tells her. “Let go for lēkia.”

He gives her nipple a harsh tweak and increases the pressure he is exerting between her legs.

Aela’s back arches off of the mattress with the force of her pleasure, jerking her body against his. He places a hand against the rear of her pelvis, holding her against him as he fucks her through her orgasm. White hot sparks shoot their way through her body, a loud cry of pleasure releasing from her mouth. Her body goes limp in Aemond’s gasp. Her eyes are heavy lidded and pleasure drunk.

He uses her body, seeking his own end. A few more thrusts and he spills deep inside of her with a low groan. She barely registers the feeling of him filling her up.

When he pulls out, her cunny is a mess of blood from her maidenhead being broken and his seed leaking out of her. He hums appreciatively, mixing it together and pushing it back inside with his fingers.

She hisses, a mixture of pain and oversensitivity causing her to jerk her hips away from his touch.

“Forgive me, hāedus. We do not want this to go to waste if you are to be with my child.”

Aela knows she should protest, but what’s done is done. It is too late.

She is pliant, allowing him to pull her to his chest and hold her close.

“Avy jorrāelan, idañītsos”, he murmurs, kissing her temple. I love you, little twin.

Too tired to fight him any longer, Aela finally gives in. “Avy jorrāelan, lēkys.” I love you, brother.

Aemond smiles as his twin sister drifts off to sleep on his chest.

“I know you do, jorrāelītsos. We will make such a happy family.”

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miralure · 5 months

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Mega Formalwear Lookbook by Miralure

If you struggle finding dresses and gowns for your sim's dinner parties, red carpet looks or proms, look no further! Long flowing dresses, puffy gowns and fluffy shawls & coats will be sure to make your sim stand out and be the talk of the town.

Kindly look under the cut for all CC links!

① Enchanting Ballroom Glam

Hair | Dress | Necklace | Gloves*

② Gala Chic

Hair | Dress | Earrings

③ Sleek Elegance

④ Blue Majesty

⑤ Sapphire Elegance

Hair | Dress | Jacket | Necklace*** | Earrings

⑥ Bold Chic Evening

⑦ Midnight Glam

⑧ Mermaid Grace

Hair | Dress | Bracelet** | Choker

*Base game | **Get to Work | **Cottage Living

Thank you to all CC creators for the amazing CC: @miikocc @simmeraddiction83 @bradfordsims @simcelebrity00 @magnolianfarewell @pralinesims @christopher067 @arethabee @thekunstwollen @simsregalia @glitterberrysims @shushilda @serenity-cc @greenllamas @sifix @3dmuhari @daylifesims @belal19972 @bluerose-sims @kamiiri @aladdin-the-simmer + others!

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ohmenai · 3 months

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Icelandic Elastic Kinks

On the rugged shores of a lake, nestled between Icelandic mountains that scratch the skies, the cool morning air nips at everything exposed. But there is warmth in the unexpected; there stands Ragnar, an erotic vision from the exotic lands known for its chill. I him through a friend of a friend, a stripper in need of a portfolio to promote his captivating nights.

It was like discovering a raw diamond in a sea of glass. With his intense emerald gaze under the rugged contrast of a blue bandana and his hair dark as the midnight sun, he was eager to be immortalized. In the dim light of dawn, his silhouette is stark against the serene backdrop. Today, he's not just a local dancer, but a deity ensnared in my artistic vision, eager to expand his allure onto the pages of my OhMenFlex collection.

It didn't take much to persuade him to strike a pose for me; he had a kinky affinity for the tight squeeze of elastic bands. So when I promised him a collection of these tantalizing rings, he readily complied, and strutted into the lagoon's embrace standing knee-deep. This bands wrapped tightly around his biceps, wrists, and neck, enhancing the beat of life that pulsates from his veins—a beat that seems to echo through that quiet morning.

But the bands' true masterpiece lay between his legs, where they coiled around his erect cock and saggy balls, squeezing them into an outline of salacious desires. Those bands around his raging hard-on, one on his base, another cradling his shaven nuts, and one crowning his ultra-sensitive glans made him gasp, the sensations undeniable, his meat stick hanging plump, skimming the water's surface. A single dark mole was highlighted on his engorged morcilla, nestled between prominent veins, as if it were a mark left by the Gods to distinguish him from mere mortals, was so damn provocative.

With each click of my camera, Ragnar's arousal became more palpable. The elastic bands had turned his cock into a cylinder of yearning, the head of his member glossy and outrageously sensitive. His shaven balls, seemed to quiver with anticipation, as if aching for release from their blue constraints. The session—though set in nature's lap—became a theatre of carnality, each shot a confession of ardent obsessions whispered into the ear of the world.

Available now at Patreon and Fanvue

#aimen #aibara #aigay #gay #gaymen #aigayart #gay hot #gay male #gay men #gayhot #gay muscular #gay black #ai men #ai guys #ai gay art

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 8 months

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Midnight Masquerade - Invitation

Summary: You receive a mysterious invitation to an equally mysterious costume party off-world. While you don't normally do things like this, you're glad you decided to attend this party, especially once you realize what you stand to gain.

Warnings: reader is a monsterfucker; monster!clone au; unexplained Force magic potions; alcohol consumption; this intro is pretty tame but minors DNI regardless; individual chapters will be tagged with specific kinks and additional warnings

Word Count: 2.8k

MDFM's masterlist | Suggested listening for this series

You’d been distracted all day, mind fixated on the mysterious invitation and accompanying note you returned home to last night. A simple rectangle of orange paper, the invitation’s words spun dizzying circles in your mind: “Come not as you are...but as you wish to be.” The note, signed simply from “your favorite trooper,” explained that the proclaimed “midnight masquerade” is for a costume party to be held today, off-world—but that’s the extent of the information you know.

Maker, you don’t normally do things like this. Granted, you don’t often have time to do things like this; working as a senatorial aide leaves much to be desired in terms of a healthy work/life balance. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve been feeling stuck lately, wishing for something greater, something better, something more, to happen to you.

Which brings you here, to the mystery destination. The ship you’d chartered on Coruscant had given you a gorgeous view from space of this planet, a giant crystal ball, glimmering pastel blue in the light of the local star. Up close, though, the landscape is even more breathtaking. Towering spires of crystal glow from the inside in shades of white, blue, and purple. As you step tentatively toward the nearby town, the ground crunches underfoot, as though you walk over a field of tiny crystals. Jaw hanging open, a rush of awed excitement pours through you, electric and hot.

The town itself looks almost out of place. Curving durasteel and plaster walls clash in harsh juxtaposition with the natural landscape. So far, you’ve seen no signs of other people or the planet’s native inhabitants. Swallowing thickly, you do a full 360. Anxiety begins to churn in your stomach. Thoughts, each darker than the last, chase each other in circles in your mind. In your palm, you clutch the invitation so hard it crumples.

“Hello there,” a singsong, ethereal voice calls.

“Kriff!” You nearly jump out of your skin.

“I did not mean to startle you,” the voice says. A moment later, a tall, slender being emerges from behind one of the nearby pillars. Skin almost the same shade of blue as the crystal, they smile at you with such otherworldly beauty that you find you can’t breathe properly. Standing easily ten feet tall, they seem to glide forward, robes of pure black draping over their body like shadows, iridescent hair cascading down their back.

“Do you carry an invitation?”

You blink dumbly. “Um. Y-Yes. Here.” You hurry to smooth out the piece of paper before presenting it.

Their cloudy eyes drift serenely down to the paper. “Excellent. Right this way. There are many who have already arrived.”

Turning, they begin to meander towards town. You rush to catch up. As you approach the cluster of buildings, you notice signs of the party that was promised. Bassy music thrums up through the soles of your feet, and the scent of mulled cider tantalizes your nose and taste buds alike. But still a worm of anxiety wriggles within you.

“Sorry, but, what exactly is this party?”

The strange being’s gaze caresses your face. “It is a most sacred ceremony in celebration of life, during a time in which death is closest. The spirits grow restless; we do our best to placate them through dressing in costume, among other things.”

As a senatorial aide, you’ve had many years’ practice of schooling your expression into polite neutrality. It’s a mask you wear well. You find yourself donning it now. While you don’t discount the possibility of veils between planes, spirits, and the like—not to mention the Force, not with the Jedi constantly in the Senate—you personally harbor no such beliefs.

“Understood,” you say.

The being chuckles, a pleasant, tinkling sound, like a wind chime in the evening breeze. “Not yet. But you soon will.” They glide to a halt in front of a large building, from which the sounds and smells of merriment emanate. “Here I leave you.”

In the time it takes for you to approach the door and turn back to thank your guide, they’ve vanished. A shiver snakes up your spine. “Creepy.”

The blaring, synth-rock music is a physical force to the chest as you push the door open. Where the landscape outside is a swirl of crisp, crystalline blues, the interior is a foggy expanse lit by hues of rich violet, burnt orange, and vivid green. Gnarled, bare trees dot the large room as decoration. Several dozen high-top tables cloaked in tattered cloths are laden with food and drink.

Perhaps most striking, though, are the dozens upon dozens of troopers in costume.

Door falling shut behind you, you can’t contain your wide, incredulous smile. As you begin to step toward the dance floor, you catch sight of Mayday, Hexx, and Veetch adorned in identical Frankenstein’s-monster-like face paint. Through a break in the crowd, you spot Kix carrying far too many shots in one hand, dressed as—a slutty nurse? You blink to make sure you saw that right.

Interspersed throughout the crowd are a handful of other nat-borns. You recognize none of them.

Someone grabs your arm. Jerking your head around, you heave a relieved sigh at the familiar sight of Rex. Atop his head rests a wire halo. His body is dressed in a loose, draping white toga, with fluffy white wings protruding from his back.

Your eyebrows shoot up, both in amusement and in genuine joy to see your friend. “Rex! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I lost a bet,” he admits with a cavalier smile. “Come on, we’ve got a spot saved for you.”

Chest warming at his words (and definitely not at the glimpse of his partially bare, toned torso), you follow eagerly. Around you, costumed clones chatter away, sip drinks, and just generally appear far more relaxed than you’ve ever seen any of them before.

Near the edge of the room, lower tables have been set with seating and peculiar centerpieces. Glowing from within, the vase-like decorations sprout darkened and decaying flowers, stuck through with glitter bats, cats, and pumpkins—an odd assortment for a crystalline planet, but you’re distracted from the thought when you spot the table Rex leads you to.

“When you said ‘we,’ I thought—”

“Torrent Company?” He flashes a wry grin over his shoulder. “Not quite. Gotta keep you on your toes, mesh’la.”

Squished around a table that is far too small for all of them are another ten troopers. Present are the entirety of Clone Force 99—a rare sight to see them sitting still; Commanders Cody, Wolffe, and Fox—your knees weaken when you realize you’ve never actually seen Fox without his helmet; and, deep in discussion, Fives and Sister, both of whom you’ve developed budding friendships with.

Rex squeezes into the booth between Cody and Fives.

Jostled by his captain’s return, Fives glances around. His expression brightens when he sees you. “There’s our favorite aide!” he calls.

Emboldened by his attention, you snag a nearby chair and pull it up to the last bit of free space at the table. To your left, Wolffe arches one severe eyebrow. His skin shines with a gray pallor, and a dark, twisting crown rises out of his curls. Black robes that look suspiciously like General Koon’s wrap around his body. To your right, Echo, dressed to the nines in a custom-tailored suit with red bowtie, gives you a genuine smile and nod. The rest of the troopers cheer or raise their glasses to you, welcoming you to the party.

“About time you showed up,” Fox deadpans.

Someone pushes a shot into your hands. “What, didn’t think I’d miss getting blackmail material on you all, did you?”

As the others whoop and holler, Fox fixes you with a flat stare; around his eyes glint realistic scales, painted the same hue of red as his armor. Segmented horns curl up from his graying hair. As he lifts his drink to his lips, you catch the tiniest nod of appreciation from him. Your entire body flushes in satisfaction.

Maker, this bunch is going to be the death of you.

You let yourself get swept into the current of the conversation. For the most part, you content yourself to listen. Occasionally one of them will ask you for input from a senatorial perspective, and they all seem to value what you have to add. But you’re more than happy just to observe. While each and every one of them are absolute stunners in regular life, tonight they all look divine, glowing with relaxation and costume makeup.

Most of their costumes are easy to parse together. Rex and Cody seem to have coordinated, Cody dressed as a devil to counter Rex’s angelic nature; Hunter has opted to dress as a werewolf halfway in the process of transforming; on Crosshair’s neck you spy two pinpricks of fake blood; Tech has donned a blood-spattered lab coat and swapped his usual yellow-tinted glasses for swirled ones; and the scales on Fox’s bare skin reveal his inner dragon. But you can’t quite pin down what Wrecker, Echo, Sister, Wolffe, and even Fives have dressed as.

With a shrug, you assure yourself you’ll find out at some point.

You knock back the shot at last and grimace as it burns down your throat. Cody slides you another with a dangerous wink; you raise an eyebrow and shoot him a wink of your own. The deep, pulsing thrum of the music washes through you, and you let it control the rate of your heart. And you miss, or perhaps choose to ignore, the lingering looks they all give you, the ones that trail down your body and study your face with equal intensity. Heat, stoked by their looks and the liquid courage, simmers below your skin.

The barest hint of an idea begins to form in your tipsy, buzzing brain.

When Fives shoots you a conspiratorial smirk, raising his glass in a toast to you, you enact the half-formed plan. From the cluster of finger foods at the center of the table, you pluck a skewered olive, lift it to your mouth, and, eyes boring into Fives’s, make a show of licking the salty snack before wrapping your lips around it. Fives sputters and chokes on his drink.

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe grits out, a warning note in his gravelly voice.

You turn wide, innocent eyes on him. “Something the matter, Commander?”

His grip on his glass tightens, to the point you worry he’s going to shatter it. Resisting the urge to wilt under his mismatched glare, you snag another olive and suck it into your mouth in much the same manner as the first. Wolffe breaks first, glancing away.

Around the table, the rest of them shift in their seats, acting like they didn’t all just watch you practically give head to those poor olives. Stifling a smirk of your own, you lean back, satisfaction lingering in your veins. After a moment, the conversation resumes its ebb and flow around you.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the music quiets and a dreamy, floating voice comes over the speakers. “Revered guests, now is the time for you to decide whether you will cross the shadowed veil and experience another form of living. Potions will be provided for consumption. You may notice that you become more than a mere costume. Be assured, the potion’s effects are temporary.

“One final word of caution: in the case of sexual coupling, it is inadvisable for more than one person to partake of the potion.”

A buzz of confused, excited chatter whispers across the assembled crowd. At the mention of possible intimacy, your skin flushes, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Whoever had been speaking has just dredged up the unspoken thing between you and every person at your table. An idea begins to bloom in your mind, spurred on by the alcohol in your system, the bone-rattling music, the sweet scent of the fog machines, the looks they’ve been giving you all night. You glance, suddenly shy, and find Rex already looking at you with concern slanted across his brow. With a smile, you relax.

“I’ll get the potions!” Sister clambers out of her seat and disappears into the crowd. She reemerges several minutes later carrying a tray of shot glasses, each filled with a murky, swirling liquid. You grimace at it when she hands you one.

“We’re supposed to drink this?” you mutter, voice drowned out as the music resumes its previous volume.

Wrecker sniffs at his glass. “It smells nice. Herbal and fruity.”

Rex catches your attention again. “Maybe just one of us should try it first.”

You’re about to affirm what a good idea that is, when Cody’s gaze shifts from you to someone behind you. Turning, you watch as one of the Wolfpack downs the thick drink in one go. For a moment, nothing happens, and then his entire body shudders violently. You must have blinked, because suddenly he’s no longer fully corporeal, and instead floats a few inches above the ground, his body and clothes gray vapor and mist. You realize with a start that the entire squad is costumed similarly to Wolffe; he’s the only one wearing a crown.

Next to you, Wolffe heaves a sigh at the same time that Fives and Sister gasp out, “Wizard!” The two of them share a conspiratorial grin, then, clinking their glasses together, throw back the mystery shot.

The same odd shudder-and-blink phenomenon happens to them. In place of Fives’s plastic horns and fabric tail are suddenly real, bony horns protruding from his forehead and a writhing, leathery pointed tail. Sister’s nature-themed costume sprouts living flowers. Her braided hair becomes a mass of vines.

“It appears that the drink turns you into your costume,” Tech observes, one finger raised.

“I would have never known,” Crosshair snarks. He, too, downs his shot. Skin growing paler, the mock wound at his neck dries into faded scars. When he flashes you a smirk, two pointed canines poke from between his lips. Arousal shoots through you with sudden heat, your core clenching.

One by one, the troopers around you down their potions, until you’re the last one left. Mulling over the announcement, you weigh your options. You’d be a liar if you said you haven’t had a few...indecent thoughts since arriving tonight. But you know none of these troopers would hold it against you if you decided to drink the potion and similarly transform.

Twirling the glass in your fingers, you shake your head to clear it and set the drink on the table.

“I have a proposition for you all,” you say, leaning forward. You preen a little when you see you have their rapt attention. Confidence surges through you, hot and languid and bold. A smile curls over your face.

“I’ve always wanted to know how a monster fucks.”

For a brief moment, the table remains draped in silence, punctuated only by the nearby raucous shouts of other clones and the heady, bassy music. Then, all at once—

Tech, always aiming for precision: “Technically, we are not monsters, but rather realistic imitations of them.”

Crosshair, snarky and smug: “Really think you could handle it, doll?”

Cody, one stern eyebrow raised: “Is that so, mesh’la?”

Sister blushes a wonderful shade of red, giggling as she reaches up to close Fives’s hanging jaw. Hunter squints at you. In the strobing multicolored lights, his eyes seem to reflect like an animal’s. Only Wolffe and Echo seem to have maintained their composure, though you catch the dangerous smirk toying at Echo’s lips.

As the initial outburst of reactions subsides, Fox snorts, a gasp of smoke puffing from his now-elongated snout. “That sure was a funny way of begging, little one.”

“I only beg for those who earn it, Commander Fox,” you say, a little too sweetly, judging by the way his eyes—dark and reptilian and piercing—rove your features.

Rex clears his throat, drawing your attention back towards him. Your breath catches; in the chaos of everyone transforming into their costumed selves, you’d somehow missed the finer details of Rex’s new form. The fluffy white wings, formerly attached by elastic, now rest gently against his back, shifting as he adjusts in his seat. Floating above his head, casting his face in radiant beauty, the halo burns in a miniature solar flare.

“All you have to do is say the word, mesh’la,” he says.

Swallowing, the trickling realization of what you’ve gotten yourself into finally sinking in, you shake your head. You dart up from your seat and rush to a nearby trash receptacle. Thankfully, you don’t have to dig, the object you need resting near the top.

You return to the table with an empty bottle. Eleven near-identical expressions of dismay and confusion clear as you settle back into your seat and rest the bottle on the table in front of you.

“Let’s let fate decide.”

You spin the bottle, watching, mesmerized and anxious, as it rotates in a blur, before coming to a rest, its neck pointing at...

...Crosshair

...Fives

...Echo

...Sister

...Tech

...Rex and Cody

...Wrecker

...Fox

...Wolffe

...Hunter

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