#the fics I mention here also benefited from this process

[jaylaxies]

PING! WE SHOULD FUCK

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, fwb, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy), fluff, angst, fingering, choking, spanking, masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of nicknames and food, jake has a twin sister, lmk if i missed anything!

SYNOPSIS: trying out tinder was a random thought you had, not expecting to see your best friend’s twin brother there. feeling bold, you swiped right on his profile, never once thinking that he’d do the same and text you right after, to which, you didn’t reply, well knowing that you’ll have to face him the next day for your sleepover with his sister at their place.

WC: 6.5k+ words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels <3 im back with a jake fic! the idea popped up in my mind so randomly but i had to write it down even though i rushed it a bit :3 i hope you guys like it! all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated <3 i hope you guys enjoy it! iloveyou all <3

“Five days? You're kidding me,” your friend deadpanned, blowing air on her fingers as she finished applying another coat of nail polish on her perfectly oval shaped nails.

“I swear! It's been so long, I really need to get laid,” you sighed, painting your own nails with a pout on your face.

To say you were a sex addict would be an understatement. You had recently gotten out of your friends with benefits relationship, simply because you got bored of his ways, it lasted for about three weeks — which was a long time. Nevertheless, you wanted something entirely new this time.

“I fucked Sunghoon yesterday,” Jia spoke up with a proud smirk on her face as you gasped.

Park Sunghoon, the best friend of Jake Sim, who was also Jia's twin brother. It was bound to happen someday, their eye-fucking wasn't very subtle, however, you didn't know she would go on with it. That's exactly what made it more exciting.

“No way on earth you just fucked your brother's best friend,” you chuckled, “that's something straight out of a fanfiction. Scandalous.”

She giggled, telling you all about her experience from the past night and you teased her for scoring that big dick. Meanwhile, you also kept thinking about what to do with your situation. Some options you had would include going to a party and having a random hookup with a stranger, or, reaching out to one of your old flings — which you wouldn't do in your sane mind.

“So, what's your plan next?” she asked you, lying down on her bed as you proceeded to lie down next to her.

“No clue actually. Maybe I'll have to take the matter in my hands for now,” you mumbled, staring at the ceiling.

“Does that mean—” she started.

“—the pink vibrator,” you both spoke out loud, giggling right after.

That was your best plan for tonight, since you were in no mood to go and fish for new boy toys.

Blowing a flying kiss to your best friend, you stepped out of her room, running into something solid, however, it wasn't a wall, rather, it felt muscular. A hand coming to your waist, successfully preventing you from falling down, your eyes widening in the process. You stepped back as the heavy scent of musky perfume invaded your senses, looking up to see none other than Jia's brother.

You haven't exclusively interacted with him before, he had been mysterious ever since you first met him, through Jia, of course. Other than the mere nods of acknowledgement, and a few stares here and there, you hadn't ever spoken a word to him, except for that one time you had thanked him for holding open the door for you.

This would mark as your second interaction, “I'm sorry,” you spoke before taking another step back, looking at his face.

Parted hair, hollow cheeks and plump lips upturned into a smirk.

“Don't be. I enjoyed it, babygirl.” He winked before leaving you standing there dumbfounded, the door of his room closing as you tried to comprehend what had happened seconds earlier.

You'd be lying if you say that you didn't find it attractive. The result of the same being your legs wide open, paired with the same pink vibrator which had become your best mate from the past four days. You unbutton your blouse slowly, getting rid of your bra and cupping your tits, closing your eyes as you thought about being touched, a soft moan escaping your mouth as the vibrator stimulated your clitoris just how you liked it.

You whimpered, legs shaking as you pinched your nipples lightly, biting your lips to conceal your moans. The feeling was euphoric, also paired with distress as no matter what you did, you couldn't reach your high. You groaned, replacing your vibrator with your fingers, rubbing soft circles on your wetness, mind going back to what had happened a few hours back, the image of Jake's face popped into your mind and you didn't fight it.

Instead, you proceed to insert a finger inside your hole, gasping as you imagined it to be his thick finger, soon inserting another digit, pumping in and out while bucking your hips to meet your fingers, curling them inside of you. The highly vivid images of Jake doing those things to you helped a lot more than your vibrator did, a knot forming in your stomach as you increased your pace, thighs clenching as you wondered how deep his accented voice would sound in a situation similar to this.

With rigged breathing and shaking legs, your back arched, toes curling when you moaned out Jake's name, reaching your high with the release of your fingers being coated with your juices.

With weak legs, you stood up after a solid of five minutes, getting into the shower after turning the geyser on, letting the hot water droplets soak you up, you sighed, realizing what you'd done a few minutes back. Leaning against the cold shower tiles, you gently rubbed your body with a loofah, shaking your head.

You admit that it was the best orgasm you've had in two weeks, however, the fact that you had cum to the thought of your best friend's brother is what made your heart beat faster than normal.

With your bathrobe on and your hair still wet, you sat down on your bed with no intention of wearing your clothes just yet. You opened your Instagram only to come across Lee Heeseung's post, whereby he showed off his new girlfriend. Just below it, you saw a very vibrant advertisement of Tinder, your interest piqued all of a sudden as you clicked on it, downloading the application at once.

This is what you were going to do, find someone to hook-up with using a dating app, you hadn't ever done this before and naturally, it took you a few minutes to make an account and learn the basics of how the app works, making sure to select an equally sluttery and adorable picture for your profile.

You won't deny that it was fun to swipe left seeing some profiles with literal actors on their profile pictures, not to mention they also claimed to be those very actors. You also came across certain people which you judged, looked fine for your taste, however, they didn't quite reach your ‘I need them to fuck me' scale.

You sighed, almost giving up on this until this one profile made you sit up straight. It was as if the universe was hinting something at you when you saw none other than Jake Sim's profile being displayed on your phone. His picture was clearly alluring, his eyes focused on the camera and his tongue slightly out which, you'd admit, did make him look attractive.

You stared at the screen for a brief second before letting your thumb swipe right before you exit the application and switch off your phone, wondering if there was something wrong with you that day.

Grabbing your pillow, you screamed into it out of embarrassment, quickly searching for ways to undo the right swipe but a certain notification successfully halted your actions, eyes widening at that.

You got a new match! 😍😍😍

To your surprise, it was Jake.

He had sent you a simple wink emoticon paired with 'heyy', very typical of him. A half scoff-laugh escaped your mouth and you decided not to reply to the particular text, throwing your phone on the bed table, going to sleep with a newfound rush of excitement — excitement for your tomorrow's sleepover at Jia's place.

The next day came by quickly as you woke up late, packed a little bag for your stay and you decided to wear shorts and a blouse for your visit, knowing that you'll soon be changing into your short silk pajamas once you reach her place.

It was eight in the night when you parked your car in front of her house, looking into the car mirror once before you locked it, ringing the doorbell and waiting for a second before the door opened to your excited best friend.

“Y/n, come with me right now!” she more or less dragged you to her room, locking the door before she opened the chats of her and Sunghoon.

“Oh god,” you breathed out.

“Right? He wants me again, how am I supposed to say no to that dick?” she whined.

She could have easily gone to his place. But sadly, she wasn't allowed to do so when her parents were out, since her brother was the one in charge.

“I can cover for you,” you spoke slowly, after a second of forming an idea.

That would give your friend a good fuck, whereas, you can simply make a move on Jake, if you run into him that is.

She turned to look at you “Wait, you can. But how?”

“I mean, I can lock the door once you're out and then I'll also make sure to leave the window lock open so that you can get inside in the morning without getting caught,” you simply said whatever came to your mind.

“That can actually work. Should I say yes then?” she got up, typing furiously already as you nodded, biting your lip.

With a satisfactory smile, she sat down next to you, theorizing that going at midnight would be the best choice since Jake doesn't come out after that hour. You smile and nod, happy to see her so giddy, also offering her a facemask as you put on a movie, watching it together, munching on the snacks she had gotten earlier.

“So, what are you going to do with your situation?” she asked, throwing popcorn in your mouth.

You chewed before answering, “I think I'll go to Yeonjun's party tomorrow,” you contemplate, almost lying.

“Ooh, I'll come with,” she decided, checking the time before rushing into the bathroom with an excited squeal.

You shook your head, watching her come out wearing a blouse and skirt, spraying perfume earnestly before she blew you a kiss, running by all the rules while you also reminded her to be responsible and to come back on time.

With a kiss on your cheek, she left and you noticed Sunghoon's car being a little away from the place, to prevent being caught.

You sighed, changing into your pajamas, making your way to the kitchen right after as you felt parched.

Opening the fridge, you found an unopened bottle of water, and a slice of pizza from earlier. The whole house was silent and the thought of Jake being busy, or not knowing about you being here, invaded your mind.

If that were to be the case, then you'd have no other option than to go to Jia's room and sleep.

“When someone sends a text—” a deep voice spoke near your ear, a tingle going down your spine.

You turned only to be trapped between arms and the kitchen counter. The scent was musky, the exact same which you had been dying to get close to since yesterday.

“—then good girls text back, don't they?” he stepped back, his eyes staring right into yours as he asked you the question.

Even in the dim light of the kitchen area, he looked stunning with messy hair and sleeveless shirt, not to mention how the grey sweatpants he wore made his waist seem even smaller.

Adrenaline rushed through your body and you tiptoed to his height, your nose brushing against his own as he held your waist to steady your figure.

“What if I'm not a good girl?” your lips brushed against his as you spoke slowly, “Then what, Jake?”

He chuckled, caressing your cheek with his thumb, your heart beating out of your chest as his hand travelled down to your neck, and towards your nape. He held on to your nape and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Then maybe I'll have to teach you a lesson, sweetheart,” he tilted your head, “would you like that?” he spoke out your name and you could only whimper out in a rushed agreement.

Soon, his plush lips meet yours in a kiss of urgency, your hand settling down on his bare shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh as you kissed him back with the same urgency. And suddenly, you were thankful that Jia went out.

Jake couldn't stop himself from feeling every inch of you, his hand going under your shirt, smirking when he noticed that you weren't wearing a bra.

“So fucking naughty.” he broke the kiss, whispering in your ear before he picked you up, placing you on the kitchen counter behind

you, his lips now moving down to kiss your neck, sucking on certain areas alongside, fondling your tits, squeezing them which elicited a moan out of you.

“Jake—” you breathed out his name once he unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the floor, his plush lips instantly working on kissing your valley of breasts, while you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silky roots harsh enough to make him groan.

You found it hot how he was just as eager as you if not more, he stepped back and got rid of his own clothes, keeping his boxers on which did nothing to hide the outline of his hardened cock. You stared at him, cheeks on fire and lips slightly swollen. You noticed how his hair looked messier than ever, your eyes following his every move.

He tugged at your shorts, helping you out of them in a hurry, you bit your lip, spreading your legs on the counter so that he could get a better view of your glistening cunt.

“You're soaked,” he touched your wet slit with two fingers, making you shiver in an instant, “aw, princess. Are you that needy for me?” he bent down to place a kiss right where you needed him the most.

You gasped, feeling overwhelmed and wanting more of him, all of him.

He wastes no time in immersing his tongue into your pussy, licking and sucking as you panted, thighs shaking. He held them open with his strong grip on your thigh. Your eyes closed once the tip of his nose brushed against your clit. You felt ecstatic by each passing second, even more so when his thumb took the chance to stimulate your clit further.

“Jake, I'm so close,” you let out, and he stopped that very second, making you whine.

He licked his lips, looking at you right in the eye before he asked, “What do good girls do?”

“R—reply to texts!” you cried out lowly.

His tone got deeper as he asked you further, “Yeah? And what? You're gonna pay attention to me now?”

You were too out of your brain to get a better understanding of his last question, you didn't question it, nodding and saying yes, mind clouded with lust and need.

“I need words,” he urged, kissing your neck.

“Yes. Yes I will.”

“That's my good girl,” he whispered, positioning his hardened cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your wetness.

His words made your head spin in a good way. A lot of people had tried to talk to you that way, however, their words didn't affect you a bit. So, what made it different this time? Maybe it was his deep accent, or the fact that you had been craving sex from a few days now. Or, he was simply good at what he did.

It was easy for him to bottom out with how your wet cunt pulled his cock in, his dick stretching you out deliciously as you pulled him in for another kiss, moaning into his mouth.

He groaned, slamming his cock into you as he attached his lips on your tits, biting and sucking hard enough for it to leave marks by the next day. He acquired a faster rhythm, burying his length inside you while you held on to his shoulders for support.

His digits played with your bundle of nerves alongside, pulling you closer by waist in the process. You knew that you won't be lasting any longer than this and so, he increased his pace, spreading your legs further before you started clenching around him helplessly.

“S—so close,” you whimpered.

“Let go, baby.” He started to pull out, his own high nearing, but you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I'm on pills,” you whispered, gulping down, “Cum in me, please?”

He had never been more turned on in his entire life. Your fucked out face, swollen lips and the innocent eyes begging him made it harder for him to hold back. He, in fact, didn't wish to hold back anymore.

“You'll be the death of me,” he spoke against your lips, thrusting until you reached your state of euphoria, his cum releasing inside you as you both rode out your orgasms.

You weakly called out his name, and you swear you could see his eyes shining before he bent down to grab his clothes, his usual smirk back on his face as he pulled you in closer for one last time, helping you down the counter and lightly chucking at your wobbly legs.

“Next time, you'll text back, right?” he raised his brows.

Your heart hammered at the possibility of him fucking you again, “Yes, I promise,” you breathed out, lost in his eyes.

“Good girl,” he praised once again, before leaving you standing in the dimly lit kitchen.

You cursed, admitting how it was the best orgasm you've ever had in your life, weakly collecting your clothes before making sure to clean the kitchen counter and going back to Jia's room, cleaning yourself up.

You were too tired to function anymore, sleep consuming you fast as you drifted off to the dreamland.

By the time you woke up the next morning, Jia was home and fast asleep next to you, the sunlight was strong enough to wake you up, your legs sore from the pre-sleep activity you had. With a groan, you got up, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked like a mess, and so, you decided to take a shower and change into the other set of clothes you got with yourself.

“Jia, you're awake?” you saw your friend sitting on the bed with a pout and half opened eyes.

She called your name. “My legs hurt,” she whined, making you chuckle and help her up, despite your condition being the same as her, if not worse.

In half an hour, you both looked a lot more presentable. Rushing down to eat, you guys found Jake with an apron on, cooking what looked like breakfast to you.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Jake flicked Jia's forehead and you stood there, seeing the twins bicker.

Jake looked so different from the night, the smile on his face giving his face an angelic glow and his eyes were soft, unlike yesterday, which were full of lust.

He served an omelet with bacon for his sister, soon coming to your side with a playful smile, “Y/n, you look sleepy, did you not sleep well?” he spoke and you rolled your eyes as subtly as you could.

Of course you felt sleepy, he had kept you up half the time and you did not regret it a bit, “I'm hungry,” you spoke, ignoring his question.

He shook his head, winking before going to set up a plate of breakfast for you and him, both. He joined you at the dining table and you three ate silently, scrolling through your phone, still you could feel someone's stare on you, and you very well knew it was Jake's eyes which were fixated on you.

Even when you were leaving for home, he was the one who walked you to the door. Jia didn't suspect a thing, lost in her own little world, giggling as she texted Sunghoon.

“Don't forget to text back,” he spoke in a low tone, almost pressing you against your car with how close he was, “princess,” he concluded, right near your ear.

You gulped, not wanting to admit that even his little gestures affected you a great deal. Not to mention how it was officially just the third day of your said interactions.

You drove back home with a tingling sensation down in your abdomen. Last night left you wanting for more, and so, you looked forward to more of your interactions, also waiting for him to text you.

The day went by as quick as the lightning, you focused on the completion of your assignment, having to submit it in the school tomorrow.

“Final-fucking-ly,” you groaned, stretching your body before you shut down your laptop and plopped on the bed, unlocking your phone to find new notifications, but only one caught your eye.

Jake:

Miss me yet? ;)

You shook your head with amusement, typing out a reply.

You:

What if I do?

Jake:

Then maybe I'll have to come over to solve that problem, bbg

You:

As tempting as the offer is, we have school tmrw </3

Jake:

Tmrw it is then ;)

That was the last text you got from him, and you were curious if he was trying to make this a regular activity. Going behind your best friend was something you'd never thought you'd do, but like you mentioned, the offer was too tempting to refuse.

You took a deep breath, ready to face whatever was to come tomorrow.

You weren't ready for this.

Never in a million years had you thought that one of your fanfiction-esque fantasy would turn into a reality; courtesy of Jake Sim.

The day started off well, the clear sky and light wind made your morning mood instantly better. You reached school right on time, even getting coffee before that to function properly throughout the day.

Sitting with a random student, you pulled out your binder to make notes for that specific class, paying attention to everything your teacher said out loud before a small ball of crumpled paper hit your arm, you turned around in hopes of finding the culprit, but sadly, no one looked even a tad bit suspicious.

You shrugged, shifting your focus back on the lesson. Soon, the bell rang and you sprinted out of the class, the subject wasn't your favourite but paying

attention was the bare minimum. You stood in front of your lockers, stuffing a book back there before you shut it.

“Hey,” Jake spoke and you stepped back in surprise, clutching your chest before you slapped his shoulder.

“The fuck are you doing?” you whisper yelled.

“Exactly. What the fuck am I doing if you're still not pressed against the wall with my lips on yours?” he leaned in and you pushed him back, afraid of someone coming across you both being cozy with each other.

“We can't do it here,” you said, adjusting the strap of your bag and your eyes darting around the corridor, not meeting his.

“Right, we have to be at a secluded place. Follow me,” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the parking area, which was fairly empty.

“Jake, I have a class—” you stopped once he turned towards you.

“Then you've got two choices, baby,” he smirked, “go and attend your class, or stay and let me fuck you.”

He pressed the door open button on his car keys, and you noticed that it was right behind you. The decision was yours to make, his tempting expression made you want to pull on his collar and smash your lips against his.

That's exactly what you did.

Soon, you were stuffed into the backseat of his car, windows fogged up and devoid of clothes, breathing ragged and his cock deep inside your cunt.

You had never been so grateful for tinted windows before.

“What do good girls say?” he urged you to answer, not moving.

You whined, “Please?”

“You're such a good girl for me, giving me all your attention.” He pulled out, slamming his cock inside your pussy once again and rubbed your clit alongside it.

Despite your state of pure ecstasy, you noticed this one word he spoke, ‘attention’ it was something he had used before too, and you were more than curious to know the reason behind it. Was it based on lust or something more? The question was sure to linger in your mind the whole day.

You hands tangled in his hair, holding his face close to your neck while he placed harsh kisses all over from your neck to clavicle as he hit all the deeper spots inside of you, growling your name as you both reached your climax, him nibbling on your earlobe before he collected your arousal with his two digits, tasting it right in front of your eyes, successfully hypnotizing you with his actions.

Chuckling, he swiftly pulled you on his lap and rested in the position for a while, your wetness close to his hardening cock.

He grabbed your chin and whispered against your lips, “Now that I've got a taste of you, I don't think I'd want to let go,” his tone was deep and breathless.

“Then don't,” you softly spoke, sealing the deal before he pulled you up and let you sink on his cock, taking you for the second time that very day.

This feeling was foreign to you. It had always been you, the plans, the calls, it all came from you whenever you were needy. This applied to all your previous friends with benefits, however, this time was different.

You weren’t one to spend time them, or were available for them when they needed you for their own share of sexual fulfilment.

That’s precisely what you were thinking about while staring into the mirror, lips shaded with your favourite lipstick, clad in a skirt with a top that complemented it well. All this because of one person.

Jake Sim.

It had been a solid of three weeks since your sex escapades started, and in midst of that, you had somehow grown used to his ways, his mannerism and, of course, his golden retriever like charm. You vaguely remember the day it started, the day you gave up your own rules. Willingly.

It was quite a horrible day for you, nothing was going your way, from you getting soaked in the unforeseen rain, to forgetting your assignment back at home and the newfound announcement of one of your favourite local bakeries being closed when you craved something sweet; made your crankiness rise up to a new level.

It blatantly showed how you were in dire need of some kind of distraction, a release of some sort. And Jake unknowingly gave you just that. His text was simple, asking if you wanted to come over, also informing you that his sister won’t be home for the night — and you knew exactly why.

So you took your chance and rushed over to his place. It was as if he knew that you needed something rough, he asked for your permission once before grabbing your wrist with his veiny hand, getting you inside his bedroom and closing the door swiftly, pressing you against the same while his eyes darkened with lust.

You’d never forget that night, the room was filled with the mist of sex and desire, the noise of your skin slapping resonating while you gasped when he spanked your ass, gripping your hair to thrust in harder from behind. His filthy words filled your mind, you wanted him more than you’ve ever wanted anyone. And that’s exactly what helped you reach your climax.

“That was amazing,” you huffed out, rolling on his bed and covering yourself with the blanket, getting comfortable as you tried to calm your breathing.

“You’re amazing,” he spoke, getting in the blanket with you, eyes earnest as he said so.

You gulped, breaking eye contact once your heart started racing at the honesty of his words, getting ready to do what you always did after a session — leave.

However, he had the power to stop you with a single sentence.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asked, eyes never leaving yours.

You simply blinked at his statement, contemplating where you should stay or not, counting the reasons you could stay, the first being the sour ache in your legs, courtesy of Jake’s powerful thrusts which drove you to your breaking point.

Second being the comfort of his mattress, you made a mental note to ask him the brand for the same.

Third being, well, just his company.

Three reasons were enough for you, and you were noddin before you could even think more, making him smile the widest you’ve ever seen. Your own lips curling into one due to how contagious his smile was.

You stayed up the night watching his favourite movie, again, you would have said no but instead, you found yourself getting intrigued by the story each passing second, the night ending with you two sharing the bed, lips faintly curled up. You knew you were doomed when you found yourself in his arms, his face the first thing your eyes witnessed in the morning.

To prevent getting hurt, you did what you had to.

You left before he woke up.

You thought you had dodged the bullet called feelings, however, you only craved his touch more, and when he called your phone the next day, letting you know that he’s outside your place, you broke your rules yet again.

Ever since that day, you found yourself hanging out more, not just for the sake of having sex but also in general. He joined you and Jia whenever you hung out together despite the insufferable bickering he had to go through with his sister.

In the span of two weeks, he accompanied you both to the amusement park, sneaking to make out with you at random times. He went to your place to give you the jacket you left in Jia’s room, only to stay back and have a little extra fun with you while fucking you in your bathroom.

That’s not all. Jake was a kind person despite his usual unbothered and cool persona. He was quick to prove it to you, he took care of you in ways that you wouldn’t expect him to, getting you food and also relieving your stress in his own way. You got to witness the cuter side of him, learning how he’s scared of ghosts and you kissed him on the cheek that day, finding him adorable with his blushing face.

You wanted to spend each second of your day with him.

Which brings you back to today’s case. You were going to their place, Jia not being home again and you wondered why you had put so much effort just to meet him, knowing that you’ll look absolutely smashed once he’ll be done with you.

That wasn’t the case though. He had pulled you in with a smile, not forgetting to kiss you right on your mouth. It felt domestic, and you hated how your knees felt weak at his gestures, you didn’t know that his own heartbeat was faster than usual when he asked if you would play video games with him, even more so once you agreed.

“You’re so bad at this,” you laughed, getting the hang of the game.

“No! I’m just being nice and letting you win here,” he argued.

He was simply bad at it.

Just then, you won again with a celebratory sign showing on the television screen and you jumped up, genuinely smiling and wrapping his arms around him, only for him to hug you back tighter, his hand on your waist pulling you close, increasing the proximity.

You stilled, breaking the hug but his hand didn’t move an inch, keeping you in place. He called out your name in a whisper, giving you goosebumps.

“Yes?” You softly asked back.

“You’re so pretty,” he spoke in that very tone which had your heart racing, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

You didn’t say anything, already conflicted at the realization that you liked him. Further, you were taken aback with his next words.

“I’ve always thought you were so pretty from far, but once I came closer and saw you in a more intimate manner, I knew I was fucked,” he confessed softly.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You asked with wide eyes.

He chuckled, capturing your lips in an impatient kiss, his hand cupping your cheek lightly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting him to be closer than ever, lips moving in sync with his as he deepened the kiss.

The door opened that very second, revealing Jia with widened eyes and a clenched fist.

You stepped back in a frenzy, shaking your head as you walked towards her. Jake rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek before looking away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She screamed.

“Jia, I can explain—”

She scoffed. “No. You can’t. It’s so low of you to go behind my back to fuck my brother.”

Your eyes widened at her sentence, guilt filling up your body. Despite that, you decided to stay mum and not call her out for fucking Jake’s best friend.

“Just listen to me once,” you begged.

“Leave.” Her words were final.

Your shoulders slumped, and you made your way out despite Jake calling out your name desperately, tears welling up in your eyes. Midway down the stairs, you remembered how you left your phone back in his room, walking back to get it.

“Shut up!” You heard Jake scream once you stood outside the room, you had never heard him scream before.

“So you think I don’t know that you’ve been fucking my best friend all along? Guess what? I don’t fucking care. Do what you have to and let me do what I have to.”

“H—how did you know?” Your friend asked him and you felt bad for causing an argument between the twins.

“I saw you the other day,” he sighed, voice getting lower as he spoke the next words, “why would you do this, Jia? I’ve liked her for so long, this was my chance to be with her and you ruined it.” You heard him speak.

You covered your mouth with your hand at the confession. You didn’t like to evesdrop, but you couldn’t help it either, your cheeks heating up as you heard him speak more.

“No. Actually, like won’t be the correct word here. I’m in love with her,” he told Jia.

You couldn’t stay anymore, leaving your phone there as you quickly rushed down to leave. You didn’t want to leave Jake, not when you felt the same way for him. Crying in your room was the best option for you at the given moment, you didn’t regret being with Jake and also wished for your time together to have been longer, you held yourself for an hour as you cried.

A sudden doorbell made you rush down the stairs and you found Jake standing there with a guilty faced Jia. He saw your crying state and engulfed you in a hug, which only made you cry further into his neck, he held you for a few minutes before you broke the hug and looked at Jia, tears streaming down her face.

“Y/n,” she called out weakly, “I’m sorry.”

You looked at Jake and he nodded before you both pulled each other in a hug. She constantly kept apologizing and you stayed quiet, not knowing how to handle the situation.

“I know I’ve been a hypocrite, I’m so fucking sorry to you both,” she looked down, “Jake is right, you two should be together,” she smiled at you.

“Jia, it’s okay. It must have been shocking for you, I understand and I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Your words made her cry more.

Jake held your hand through it all, letting you know that it’ll soon be okay for everyone.

That night, Jake decided to stay with you as you held on to him dearly. Also staring at him with heart eyes which made him laugh and look away, a faint blush on his face.

“You okay now?” He softly asked, and you nodded.

“Jake,” you licked your lips before looking him in the eye, “I heard you earlier.”

“What?” He looked at you, scared that he’ll be rejected.

“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to you guys, I needed my phone which I left in your room!” You explained.

“Oh,” he bit his lip, “I understand if you don’t want—”

“I love you.” Your words made him look up with wide eyes.

“Princess—”

“I really do,” you gulped, cupping his face, “I want us to be together.”

He smiled, eyes watering as he pulled you in a deep kiss.

“I love you,” he spoke against your lips, you both smiling, “Y/n?” He called out your name and you hummed, “let me make love to you.”

Your breath hitched at his words, you rubbed your nose with his before nodding and kissing him with a smile on your face.

He looked at you with the most gentle expression, helping you get out of your clothes while kissing every inch of your body. His full attention on you, his eyes fixated on your face as he memorized each of your expressions while he touched your wetness slowly, your fingers digging on his shoulders as he stretched your pussy out with his two digits.

You called out his name with need, and he only kissed you more, his lips soft against yours as his hands caressed your breasts. He quickly separated for a second which caused you to whine, him gathering his precum on his thumb before pumping his cock a few times, positioning himself on your entrance.

Jake thrusted in, placing kisses on your clavicle as he intertwined your fingers, he reached the deepest spots in you, the ones which no one had reached before and you were on cloud nine. His thrusts were perfectly angled, sharp and hit your g-spot — turning you into a moaning mess in his hold.

His hair matted against your forehead made him look even prettier and he saw you staring at him, pulling you into a kiss as he thrusted in harder.

“Don’t look at me like that, princess,” he groaned.

“Like what?” You asked, breathless.

“Like I’m your whole world,” he said and you looked away while he laughed in the crook of your neck.

He rested his forehead against yours when you were close, your mouth opening to tell him something at the same time as his mouth opened.

“I love you,” you both spoke together, reaching your climax together before you smiled, kissing each other deeply.

“You are my whole world,” you spoke up and he shook his head with yet another smile, pulling you on his lap before hugging you closer.

You had never felt happier and were so grateful for the text Jake had sent to you that day, which made you realize one thing that —

Love was the prettiest thing you could ever feel.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#fic : ping! we should fuck #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enha smut #jake smut #sim jake smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #jay smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Impulses

[MALE] Xenomorph x Reader

There are many benefits to being a science officer

Update: If you like this fic, make sure you read the other one I wrote! It's a NSFW fic with this same Xenomorph character~

This is my first fic ever for the Xenomorph, and it's a rather lengthy one that I hope to write at least another part for. Just some info: I understand that there's a gray area in which the Xenomorph lands so the one I have written here is one that is a man-made hybrid creation. It still very much looks like a Xenomorph but it's changed up a bit. I think the fic describes a bit more in detail.

Sorry if it sucks, I got very much into detail after doing so much Alien lore research and this doesn't even seem like an x reader, I also apologize if it's shit, I am so desperate to post this that I just didn't even bother to revise it. I'll do it tomorrow 'cause it's late right now lol ;7; Feels like I'm writing the next Alien movie lmao

Warnings: Mention of death/corpses. Some violence (ya know, the movies are action packed with the marine corps and such). Not sure what else to mark but please do message me if you feel I should add something

Words: 7,145

Being the Demeter’s science officer had its perks, but it unfortunately also came with its share of detriments such as any other job did. But then again, your particular career choice had its own kind of drawbacks that would make the average person not take the position. Sure most science officer positions didn’t come with so many risks, but being the science officer for THIS ship’s crew was a whole other experience.

Coming onto the crew it was made clear what you were to expect. It was made clear what conditions you would be made to work under, and you somehow still decided this was the path for you. It was made clear that your crew’s purpose was a mission only a specific bunch of associates was picked.

On planet 212, also known as Gethov, there was tale of an overly faithful group of persons. Or without the polite sugar coating provided: your crew was meant to investigate what it could of the possible cult that inhabited the planet. And after spending more than enough time camping out on the planet, it was quite obviously not a possibility but the fact that there indeed was a cult deep within the planet.

But this was in no way no ordinary cult, whatever the hell that meant, this group of pious persons devoted themselves to the very thing that threatened the human race as well as others.

These crazy bastards worshiped Xenomorphs.

They worshiped every kind of Xeno, every shape and form of theirs; even the man-made ones. They venerated the creatures so much that, based on your gained knowledge, they made it their goal to bring life to as many Xenomorphs as they could.

Xenomorphs were believed to have been completely eradicated, even after the mess created by the Weyland-Yutani corporation’s greed. Thankfully they went under great scrutiny in the 90’s before being completely outlawed in 2349 along with numerous other corps. But even things like that weren’t going to stop at least one bastard from starting the whole process again.

Mother’s Order of Propagation. That was the name of the cult created by Charles Lincoln, former executive officer who was so dedicated to helping Xenomorphs reproduce that he, not only groomed his science officer into joining, but he went as far as making recruits “a part of the hive”. One could not easily integrate themselves into the hive, not unless they were covered in Xenomorph pheromones or…implanted themselves with chestbursters.

And that was exactly what the order did. It wasn’t the first time such a phenomenon was heard of, other cults having done what was a delayed gestation in which they could hold the parasite for a longer period. Not only were they able to blend in easier with the Xenomorphs, but they were able to live long enough to take victims of their own to aid in Xenomorph breeding.

Which led to the current position you found yourself in.

You had decided to step out of the base for just a moment, merely wanting to gather a sample of Xenomorph resin one of your crewmates mentioned to you earlier that day. It would be quick, even if it was from a distance from the base. But when you spotted what could have been some other person not a part of your crew and actually one of the cult members, your black out was no doubt quick.

It was uncertain just what the devotees did to knock you out, everything had happened too fast for you to process just how many of these people had even come to find you. There was an intense throbbing in your head the moment you finally awoke, that possibly a hint as to what they did. Your eyes initially shut tightly before they opened to a blurred sight in front of you, the darkness shrouding you not providing the slightest bit of help. However, there appeared to be a sufficient amount of illumination coming from the work lights you spotted strategically scattered around the area you found yourself in.

“Finally awake.” a man spoke to you, his voice somewhat familiar as you realized just how you were currently positioned him. “Didn’t think you’d wake up again. Not like that entirely matters.”

“This is one Kingston wants alive.” a different man stated while you lifted your head as best as you could, feeling as each man had an arm under yours to drag you behind them. Your boots dragged along the murky ground, leaving lines dunked into it before a noise caught your attention. But soon your boots were accompanied by those belonging to others, all in similar positions as you. The difference being that all of these people were already deceased.

“Where the hell am I?” you bared your teeth at the men who didn’t even bother to give you a response. However, your much needed answer seemed to come soon as you took in your surroundings.

Your eyes soon widened at the countless amount of corpses before you turned your head to the side: no matter where you looked, there were cadavers everywhere, and they were unfortunately accompanied by other bodies. These bodies, unlike them, were well and alive. Healthy and strong. Bloodthirsty.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just making sure something good was brought in.” The first man mocked reassurance, looking behind himself to smile in your direction before he returned his gaze to the front as more of these bodies appeared.

The bodies of Xenomorph, full fleshed out creatures who observed you from a distance. You could barely make up the shapes of their bodies, but you knew they were there: patiently waiting for some order. All around you you were able to hear hisses with slight shrieks mixed in every now and then, almost as if what resided in the darkness watched you and communicated. In all the time you investigated what went on with this cult, you would have never imagined such a number of Xenomorphs.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” the other member questioned as he gazed around the hive, practically grinning in awe at the fruits of the cult’s labor. “These beauties never cease to amaze me.

You made a face at his words before attempting to rip your arm away from him, but his grip on your suddenly grew tight and even somewhat painful.

“Nice try.”

A low groan rumbled in your throat at your poor attempt, allowing the men to continue dragging you. You didn’t want to give up just yet, but your only choice at the moment was to unfortunately go along with whatever these demented assholes had in store for you. Based on the bodies that the drones explored all over, it was already clear what they were planning to do with you.

Soon enough however, the men came to an abrupt stop that prompted you to look up at them. They stood still, frozen almost, merely staring up ahead of them before the reason came to mind. From in front of them you could already hear a specific kind of hiss that accompanied a trail of light yet still audible footsteps. A hiss was then heard, right before the footsteps came to your front where you were now being interrogated.

Before you stood a typical drone, a tad bit nosier than the rest of the hive who continued on with their business despite having caught sight of their new victim. The drone was nothing short from menacing as you watched it cock its head to the side to properly examine you. The situation became all the more appalling when the alien hunched its figure down to your face. Its silver teeth clenched in your face with a threatening hiss as it hovered mere inches from your nose, right before it dashed away from your location in an instant as if satisfied with what was brought in. A wave of relief overcame as you were spared for just a few moments longer, but as if one cue, a new kind of danger was presented soon after the Xenomorph’s departure.

“Took the two of you long enough.” you now heard a third voice before the men harshly dropped you to the ground, and you landed on your back before you looked up to see a new pair of legs. Their owner surveyed you with his aged and tired eyes, right before you were given a soft smile from the man. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

You realized who this man was, Joseph Kingston: the science officer who followed right behind Lincoln. He knew of you just as you knew about him, but this was the first time either of you had actually come face to face after numerous battles concerning your shared field. You were each a threat to each other, a fact both of you acknowledged.

Immediately, you made another attempt at escaping. You jumped to your feet as quickly as you could, shoving the lackeys away from you while racing through the resin covered hive. But in spite of that, your adrenaline-filled efforts soon came to an end when you skid to a stop the moment something jumped in front of you. You once again found yourself on your back, flinching at the sight of a new Xenomorph that pounced right in front of you.

You brought your hands up to your face to defend yourself from the creature that snarled rather loudly as it leaned down towards you. The alien opened its mouth to reveal its inner jaw, ready to strike you right through the head, but it retrieved its second mouth the moment a thunderous cry throughout the hive.

The Xenomorph momentarily turned its attention away from you, eventually returning it to give you one last hiss before scampering away along with some of the other drones who paid no mind to you. Many of these creatures ran by you and the trio of men who considered following them after hearing what you knew was the call from a higher-ranking Xenomorph, but they decided to stay in place when they were reminded of your presence.

“To the royal chamber.”

“The royal chamber?” one of the minions blinked at the scientist who broke the silence between you all, right after he and the other man made sure to restrain you yet again. “A-Are you sure?”

“You bastards! What the hell do you want from me!?” you yelled while attempting to kick your way out of their grasp. “Let me go!”

“I think our little scientist here is eager to learn more about our creations.” Kingston spoke before turning on his heel, having the men follow behind him as you continued to struggle again. Though, one of the men made sure to give you a good kick to the leg to ease you down. “I know how much you’ve researched my Xenomorphs, and I just think it’d be fun to give you some hands-on experience. Like a real science officer.

You winced at your newfound pain as you were dragged through the seemingly empty hive, giving a quiet moan before you finally came across another human. Not like that exactly mattered considering how it was just another one of these cultists who beamed at your presence.

“Tell Lincoln we’re taking this one to the royal chamber.”

“I think he’ll be very pleased to hear you’ve finally acquired the Demeter’s science officer.” the other member crooked her head at you, making sure to look your form up and down. So they had been wanting to get you for a while now…that Xenomorph resin your crewmate came across may have just been some kind of bait. “It’s invigorating to see that our mission is coming to full fruition.”

Before you could get any words out, the pair of men shoved and forced you as Kingston resumed his walking through the hive as if it were any ship. Although the scientist eventually did turn his attention back to you, grinning at you with complete pride.

“What are you planning Kingston?” you directed a glare his way, and you realized the enthusiasm he attempted to contain at your question. “What do you need me for?”

“Well you see, we don’t necessarily need you. Any body will do perfectly fine, but we thought it best that the body belong to the one person who’s been pointing out all of our weaknesses. It’s easier to produce more Xenomorphs when there isn’t some other scientist disrupting every one of me and Lincoln’s plans.” Kingston replied before returning his attention to the front.

“So you brought me all the way to your hive just to have one of your creatures kill me?” you spat out before receiving another shove from the men holding you. “That seems almost useless. My crew isn’t stupid enough to come crashing into a place like this just to get their science officer.”

“Your crew is a matter for a different time.” he stated, now standing before an entrance that he opened by dialing a code into the number pad. “We just need a fellow scientist to support our cause.”

“And what exactly is that?” you questioned, but you were soon interrupted by the familiar sounds of Xenomorphs hissing. This time around though, one of the Xenomorphs’ noises stood out from the rest who decided to remain hidden.

You felt the sudden need to hold your breath the moment a stomping was heard just outside the corridor you were currently in. Even the men with you couldn’t help but take a moment to themselves, their hands gripping you tighter as if to conceal the slight apprehension overcoming them. Although these guys were committed to their so-called cause, they were quite conspicuous with their terror: but weren’t most religious zealots the type to fear their own gods?

The stomping, although slow-moving proved to arrive fast, and the figure cast by their creator came soon, approaching from the deeper end of the hallway. It was clear that this silhouette was immense, belonging to something sizeable that eventually stepped into the light with one of its feet before the second followed. And after its legs came the torso and the rest of its body, displayed and almost glistening under the work lights that illuminated it.

“Holy shit,” you finally remembered to breathe, backing up in the only way you could before the men holding you gave in and followed your actions.

“Specimen number 7.” Kingston’s voice proudly declared before he stepped in front of you and the men. “I’m delighted that he’s decided to make an appearance.”

“He?”

“Yes, he.” he reiterated, standing tall in front of the Xenomorph who stopped in its tracks to look down at the scientist, no doubt immediately recognizing him as one of its own. “Number 7 is my finest creation, a male Praetorian who has taken charge of the hive after our queen’s unfortunate demise. Until we create her replacement, he has self-proclaimed himself the temporary leader. Nobody seemed to have any dispute against it.”

Kingston turned away from the Xenomorph along with the alien who made sure to flash its teeth to you; this was yet another one of its features that you quickly realized did not belong to the typical Praetorian. Putting aside the topic of its sex, this one lacked the metallic-colored teeth all Xenomorphs had. Its head crest, although not so different from the female royal guards', seemed to have its own quicks, perhaps even larger. And its color wasn’t the typical jet-black, but it instead had a midnight blue kind of black to it. While female Praetorians stood at at least 10 feet, this one was slightly shorter than that height; as if it even made a difference.

“What’s the point in making a male specimen when Xenomorphs have always been a female-based species?” you spat out before the alien took a step towards you, a successful attempt to intimidate you as Kingston chuckled at the sight. “How…how did you even tame it?”

“I didn’t tame Seven,” Kingston made sure to make the statement as the alien peered down at him, well aware of what the man spoke. “Considering how Xenomorphs went into extinction, save for the embryos we were able to salvage, we had to fill in certain gaps at times. This guard is somewhat of a hybrid, containing human DNA in his genetics to better bond with…me. All of us members of the order. And since the Xenomorph’s genetics have been altered and controlled by me, I was able to design a male. I’m sure you know how biology works.”

Kingston made sure to lean towards you after stepping away from the Xenomorph, giving you another one of his sinister smiles.

“Although hermaphroditic, we must ensure our Xenomorphs can reproduce with each other if another corporation or the government attempts to eradicate what we’ve worked so hard to make.” he disclosed before facing the alien one more time. “Now imagine the wonders Seven could perform if we were to give him a queen that won’t die out as easily as our last one. That poor girl…like most women, she just wasn’t the type to listen. Too resistant. Too many casualties thanks to her resistance.”

“You killed your own queen?”

“She belonged dead. This hive has no place for a queen that will turn the others against us.”Kingston posited in a much darker tone. “Which is where you come in.”

“W-What?”

“Killing you off is too simple, as is implanting a typical chestburster.” you watched the man step away from you and into the chamber meant for your end. The two men holding you intended on taking you inside with Kingston, but the Praetorian stepped once again to stop them in their tracks.

The Xenomorph hunched its towering form to take a better look at your face, giving some kind of a trill before it backed away from you.

“It seems, Seven approves of our choice.” you heard Kingston speak from the room. “Come inside.”

“No!” you exclaimed as you began to kick around again. “Let me go, you sick fucks! Let me go!”

The Praetorian watched as you were led to your doom, eventually making its way back into the corridor as you continued to shout for your release.

“I thought you’d be more ecstatic to indulge in this, seeing how much you enjoy studying our Xenos.” Kingston gave a small laugh as you saw him wearing thich gloves, these with the intention to hold a monstrosity smaller than the drones. In his hands he tightly held a facehugger, but not an ordinary one. “Seven and Lincoln are more than happy to have you as the royal host.”

“Get that thing away from me!”

“Shhh, you wouldn’t want to wake the baby.” he teased while drawing the alien closer to your face. “Here, no one can hear you scream.”

Horror filled your body at the sight of the royal facehugger that spread its webbed digits as it readied itself for your face. You struggled against the grip of the men who were careful enough to keep their heads away from yours, and this ultimately gave you your last chance.

Despite the men’s restraints having become somewhat loose, they restrained you tight enough to give you the right stability that allowed you to kick your leg forwards. In the adrenaline-filled moment, you were able to kick high enough to rip the chestburster out of Kingston’s hands, sending it flying across the room much to the men’s shock.

While the lackeys gasped dumbfounded at the flying facehugger, you ripped your arm out from one of them to give him a good elbow to the face. The man immediately dropped down as you proceeded to repeat your actions on the second man, sending him to his back while Kingston boiled with a newfound anger.

“You, good-for-nothing scoundrel!” he seethed from his spot before turning his attention to his men. “Get the facehugger! Ensure she’s alright!”

You looked around the area, considering escaping through the doorway like a sensible person would, but for a moment you considered that running through a hive full of xenomorph drones was not the wisest of choices. On the slick and damp ground, the royal facehugger seemed to notice you after the lackeys backed away so as to not get infested, and you reacted fast.

From your suit’s pocket you pulled out a screwdriver you always kept on your person, managing to strike the facehugger as it jumped in your direction.The screwdriver stabbed smack-down in the middle of its slit where its longer organ would have unveiled itself, and this singular stab was more than enough to have it fall limp much to Kingston’s dismay.

“No! No, no, no!” he cried out, the calm demeanor from before having completely disappeared as he was filled with an intense fury.

Not wanting to deal with him any longer, you scurried out of the doorway despite not knowing what your next plan of action was. All you could do was run, run as fast and quietly as your body allowed you to.

All around you you once again heard the Xenomorphs communicate amongst you while Kingston yelled from behind, even going as far as calling out to his pet. Realizing the danger this posed, you ran into a nearby chamber you hoped they would not suspect.

You weren’t sure just how you managed to hide yourself as well as you did, but it seemed to be effective with the way in which the Xenomorph drones avoided the room you were in. Perhaps in the process of creating these creatures, they unintentionally made them less functional than their natural counterparts. No matter, you took the opportunity to make yourself at home deeper in the chamber as you realized it wasn’t a den but…more of a storage room. It really was shocking to see how much these Xenomorphs allowed the cult to integrate themselves within the hive.

Turning away from the open entrance, you took notice of the resin-covered furniture inside the room that seemed to keep items of importance inside. This room in particular seemed to be a bit more secluded, perhaps another reason for the drones not bothering to come.

You immediately began to look through the drawers and cabinets, unfortunately not finding very much other than some work tools, desk supplies and containers. Honestly, the best you could work with were the tools which even then were useless against Xenomorphs, the most you could defend yourself from were face huggers. Supplies like pens and clipboards weren’t going to do much either, and these containers…

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the jars, actually piquing your interest to see what was behind the cylinder glass. You rotated the canister in every possible angle to figure out its contents, and you were finally able to find a label with what you knew was Kingston’s handwriting.

“Royal jelly,” you mumbled, a sudden realization hitting you. “Holy shit.”

Somehow, someway…this was going to be your leverage against the cult members, at least them. At least against Kingston, for you knew the value this substance held. And it didn’t surprise you that most of the room was filled with these cylinders, which were immediately pulled out by you and dropped to the ground before you took a maintenance jack from the drawers to smash the glass.

Royal jelly was the key ingredient used when producing Xeno-Zip, a powerful drug that could enhance one’s body while tearing apart their mind. And if the order was in possession of such quantities, no doubt having collected it from their latest queen, you knew they weren’t going to use it to make drugs. Their intentions were clearly to enhance their creations’ performance, or even ingest it raw themselves. Hell, they might have already done that considering how long some of these members survived with a chestburster residing in their bodies.

You then proceeded to smash another one of the containers, and you continued to do so until there were less than ten left. One would consider the destruction a waste of time, but you knew it was needed to prevent more of this cult’s progression as well as be ready when somebody eventually found you.

And that they did soon enough, for while you attempted to destroy another one of the containers, you heard a familiar thundering of footsteps as a hand grasped onto your wrist.

“Don’t you dare!” came Kingston’s voice before he threw you to the side, enraged at your actions from the moment you kicked his facehugger. “You bastard! Hellion! Do you realize what you’re doing!?”

“Of course I do!” you recovered quickly before reaching out to a nearby cylinder, but the man dared to step on your open hand as harshly as he could which caused you to cry out in pain. Before he had any time to react, you took a pen from your suit’s pocket to stab him right in the leg.

Now it was his turn to wail, falling onto his bottom before his creation from before appeared in the doorway with a full-blown roar. Perhaps the Praetorian didn’t care much for the jelly like Kingston and his members did, but you still took the opportunity to take what you could of the containers despite your aching hand.

“Let me get out! Or I’ll break what’s left of these!” you threatened while holding one of the jars above your head.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Let. Me. Out.”

Kingston could only glare at you from the ground as his alien awaited an order from behind him, snarling while drool dripped from its teeth.

“Seven,” he began before groaning at the pain your pen in his leg caused, soon pulling the item from him to spew out a mixture of blood and ink. “I believe it’s about time we terminate the science officer.”

Your eyes widened at his words, somehow appalled by his command. So before the Xenomorph could properly process the doctor, you launched the jar in your hand at its head. And soon enough, you watched as it stood in place, practically seething like the doctor was earlier.

That…that honestly may not have been the smartest choice.

“You-!” Kingston began once again, but he was interrupted by the sound of his alien roaring yet again.

Instinctively, you threw another jar at the Xenomoprh before it exploded just like the last one, coating its head crest in the fluids while some dripped down its face. You hurled another one, astonished when the Xenomorph skillfully moved its head to avoid this attack which caused you to drop the other containers from your arms, ignoring the anguished scream from Kingston.

With nothing else able to save you from the Xenomorph’s clutches, you backed up as far as you could, until your boot came into contact with some of the jelly from a jar you had previously broken. In an instant, you slipped and found yourself on the ground near the man who attempted to crawl at you while your heard screeches from outside the chamber. The room was soon filled with drones who stood by the Praetorian, awaiting any form of instruction as they watched you and the man struggle.

“You…you ruined EVERYTHING!” Kingston yelled before throwing himself at you, and you immediately attempted to wrestle him off while all the Xenomorphs watched.”Seven! Kill! Terminate! End it!”

Kingston had gone mad to the point of trying to clench at your throat with his bloody hands, waiting for the aliens to help him out in finishing you off. But he and you soon came to realize none of them bothered to move an inch, not until the Praetorian gave the order. An order that never came.

Instead, while still fighting off Kingston, you noticed as the alien grit its teeth with a growl before turning to the drones. A command was soon given. And it was not the command Kingston desired.

“What are you doing!?” he shouted at the Xenomorph who roared and trilled before the drones began to step backwards. They were quite hesitant about it, but they listened to the Praetorian before turning and jumping on all fours, soon scurrying away to leave the three of you alone. “Seven! What the hell are you doing!?”

The Praetorian now made its way to you and Kingston who paused his actions, turning to look at the alien who leaned down with a shriek.

You covered your ears at the volume before the Xenomorph finally grit its fangs again, no doubt having given Kingston a warning.

“Seven! Why-?”

Once again, the Praetorian gave a roar as well as stomp of its foot. It wanted you alone. Oh shit. You were pretty sure at this point the alien found every single one of your actions personal and was not going to allow Kingston to finish you off.

The alien warned Kingston with one last threatening stomp, and the message finally seemed to get through to the man’s thick skull.

You felt Kingston release you before crawling off of your body, his eyes never tearing away from the Xenomorph who made sure to give a hiss.

The man shot you one last glare before he too raced out of the room. The bastard was smart enough to make sure to shut the door with a code, as if you had any form of escape against a monster such as this one.

Once again, you backed away as fast as your hands allowed you while you slid across the scattered royal jelly. The alien observed you as you managed to get up onto your feet, trembling while reaching out to the countertops where you tried to find some kind of a tool you knew would do nothing to the Xenomorph. It turned away for a moment to examine the chamber, its attention on the jelly staining the ground.

Your hands found a wrench that you instantly brought up and held in front of you, ignoring the intense shaking from your hands. The Praetorian immediately snapped its head in your direction, at least as fast as its large head crest would allow. Its maw practically pointed at your form, tightly clenching the teeth inside as an audible hiss sounded from behind the row of fangs. Although the alien lacked any discernible eyes and brow bones to distinguish any sort of expression, it was apparent the way in which it peered at you.

It used one of its claws to swing at the wrench you held, and your weapon soon went flying to the side where you dashed to. But the alien followed with a roar, forcing you to face it once again.

Your much smaller form shook at the sight of it, clearly now its center of attention while you cautiously attempted to step away from the alien. However, you soon enough found it making its way towards you, every step it took having a detectable stomp come with it. Every step it took sounded with obvious suspicion as it titled its head to the side, never ceasing its scanning of your shape.

You continued your backing up, your hands eventually finding their palms against the mucky surface of the hive’s walls. Ignoring the slimy sensation, you soon pressed your back against the wall before your head followed suit. But you then turned your head to the right, eyeing the Xenomorph with a side eye. A slight whimper tried escaping your lips, managing to cause a rumble in your throat as your eye found the alien muh closer than before.

The Praetorian’s mouth released a breathy growl as you immediately looked away from it, shutting your eyes the moment you felt the cold from its body practically radiate on your skin. At this point you learned the bigger a Xeno was, the colder their clammy body would be.

Tightly shutting your lips prompted your nose to breathe intensely, this almost alluring the alien further as it brought its face close to your cheek.

Its breaths were felt against your skin, these somehow warmer than the rest of the creature who took notice of your own heat. Its maw finally pressed against your skin, olfactory senses sniffing you out before you felt a thick substance fall on your head until it slid down to your face.

Finally you opened your eyes, watching the Xenomorph continue to examine your face. While you realized what was on you was the jelly from before. The alien’s jaw smeared it all over your cheek with every sniff it gave you, more of the jelly dripping from its head every now and then.

Praetorians like any other Xenomorph possessed inner jaws, but this one…it was even cleared that it was not a naturally born specimen based on what came from inside its mouth. From in between its teeth slithered out a tongue, warm and slick as it licked the juices off of your cheek ever so delicately. It took a moment as it retrieved its tongue, tasting the jelly on its organ before its throat rumbled with some kind of snarl.

You took the chance to turn your head towards the Praetorian, surveying the alien’s features before it also stared down at you head on. You caught sight of a drooling that fell from its teeth, pooling beside your boots as you found a way to press yourself further into the wall behind you while the Xenomorph pressed its mouth against your face once again. Its minacious claws were brought up to your sides, and you winced at the touch before the alien snapped its teeth at you. Yet again you stood still while the creature appeared to have relaxed, resuming its actions as it snaked its enormous claws behind your body. You felt yourself being pulled away from the wall in an almost tender way, your body nearly pressed against the Xenomorph’s hunched one as your arms disconnected from the wall as well.

It craned its head at you once again, giving a coo-like trill while you held your arms close to your chest so as to not touch the alien in any way. However, this prompted the Xeno to finally hold you close against it, almost as if it wanted to feel the rapid beating of your poor heart against its mesoskeleton. Once again it let its tongue slither out, licking the features of your skin as you gave a wince and shut your eyes for just a moment.

The moment it stopped with its actions, you gave it one more look. It gave you another trill, awaiting any kind of reaction from you with anticipation. For some strange, enticing reason…you felt compelled to bring one of your hands away from your body, hesitantly lifting it before deciding to cautiously place it on top of the Xeno’s head.

You ran your fingers over the smooth surface of the alien’s head before finally reaching the more ribbed parts of its crest, hearing a purr-like sound coming from its throat. And somehow, you felt a smile creep up onto your lips as you admired the Xenomorph’s newfound amiability while a euphoric sensation overcame you.

Your fingers found some of the jelly that still stained the alien’s head, and you retrieved your hand to properly study it as it coated most of your palm. Before you could look any further though, the Xenomorph’s tongue instantly licked it clean off of your hand. The second it finished doing that, you felt the alien begin to nuzzle against your face as more pleased trills escaped it.

Royal jelly was a crucial substance to Xenomorphs, but it made you wonder just what kind of effects it had on man-made ones who were also depicted with a more male design. The jelly was a substance used to make Praetorians from drones, and Queens from Praetorians, lest the Queen chose to simply strengthen her royal guards. From what you had heard, the Xenomorphs were usually affected in seconds, and this Praetorian did not seem to have changed in one bit. Perhaps that was because of its male sex.

Meanwhile, the effect it had on humans…

Whilst you were deep in thought, the Praetorian stood erect to its full height the second it detected some kind of sound outside of the chamber you were in. You snapped out of the wonder and daze you momentarily felt, remembering just how tall the alien was compared to you.

From outside the area your ears caught the sounds of gunshots, yells, and even a sudden explosion. It was so instant that it made you snap back to your senses, but not enough to have you back away from the Praetorian who actually released you that very moment.

The alien whipped around as fast it could while being careful to avoid you with its tail, instead bringing it to its front as it snarled at the locked door that concealed the both of you. It sensed intruders in the hive, able to tell that its drones and the cult members were no doubt under attack. But by what?

Almost as if on cue, that question was answered when a boom practically pounded on the door, shaking it enough for it to create a clear dent in the thick metal.

“Again!”

Another boom sounded before a large hole bursted through the door. This prompted the Praetorian to roar at the presence of the intruders who blasted at the door one last time, finally bringing it down before a group of men stepped in.

Marine corps! You honestly couldn’t believe it.

“Doctor! We’re here for you!” the leader of the group announced before a second man stepped in front of him. “Cover your ears!”

You immediately did as instructed, cowering down the instant you noticed the Praetorian rush at the marines. At that moment, a horrendously loud boom was heard in the chamber. However, considering the weapon’s design, the sound was specifically transmitted as a directional beam shot specifically at the Xenomorph who gave a shriek the second the sound hit it.

“Doctor, this way!” the first man motioned towards him, ignoring the completely disabled Xenomorph who seemed to writhe in pain. You couldn’t help but give it one last glance before the man called to your attention again. “Doctor!”

Turning away from the Praetorian, you hurried towards the man whose hand you accepted in that moment. However, you decided to spare the alien one last glance, watching as it slightly recovered enough to lock gaze with you. You paused, watching as the Xenomorph reached a claw out to you, right before it was hit with another ultrasound beam that prevented it from standing up.

“Doctor, let’s go!” the leader of the troop yelled before turning to his marines. “Make sure that thing stays down, don’t waste ammo on it! We’ll come back to kill it some other time!”

“Did my crew send for you!?”

“That they did! Sergeant Newton at your service doc.” the man spoke as he led you through the hive’s corridors you had found yourself in earlier. “We found you with that tracker of yours, made navigating this shithole easier.”

“I’m glad.” you responded as the man held you close when your running was momentarily stopped to avoid incoming drones. It was at this moment that you took notice of the new corpses that adorned the hive, corpses belonging to the cult members that had not appeared to you before. “You killed them!?”

“Unfortunately had to, they fired first and were commanding the Xenos to attack us. I don’t understand these crazy bastards.” Newton claimed before he resumed his running and gingerly pulled you along. “That seemed to confuse the Xenos for some moments, they can’t work without someone telling them what to do. Which brings me to ask, what was that Praetorian doing with you?”

“I-I don’t-” you began to stutter, but your words were interrupted by a sudden roar that was followed by shrieks that were clearly replies. “The Praetorian! It’s telling them what to do!”

The corridor you and the sergeant were in soon ended as the two of you found yourselves in the openness of the main hive room, the walls filled with crawling drones who had a sole purpose. Thankfully though, the sergeant’s troop soon accompanied him with the necessary weaponry that kept many of the aliens away.

“You won’t be able to take them all! We need to get out!”

“On it.” Newton replied before giving the order to the marines who began to let loose on the Xenomorphs, nobody exactly noticing that their sole purpose…involved you. Nobody except the sergeant who realized that the aliens only attacked those guarding you when they protectively surrounded you. “Keep them at bay, I’ll take the doctor to safety!”

You heard the man’s words in between the sounds of gunfire and turrets shooting continuous flames at the aliens, and you didn’t spare a moment in following Newton when he began to escort you to where he knew the exit was nearby.

“Doctor, go!” he shouted once the Xenomorphs turned their attention to your form, ignoring the troop who immediately grew confused. It was then that you realized why he directed you to leave without him: the Praetorian was already making its way through the hive’s remains, fully intending on getting you.

“Go, go, go!”

Without looking back, you ran through the wet floor of the hive as you felt Xenomorphs quickly approaching you. Praetorians never left the hive, they were the queen’s guards, so all you had to do was reach that damn exit. And that your eyes found soon enough, a light at the end of a tunnel where you heard voices shout at you.

The beating of your heart pounded against your chest and even rang in your ears as you felt yourself running out of breath, having to catch yourself from falling every now and then. At the same time, you could hear the trills and screeches and roars from the Xenomorphs not too far behind, the pounding of the Praetorian’s feet so close.

One last time did you look behind you, watching as the alien reached out to you before you felt yourself be tugged out of the cave. The screeching of aliens sounded right after flames shot out at the hive, forcing them all to retreat behind the Praetorian who you could tell was considering escaping running through the fire.

But the troops that now guarded you did not allow it, firing their weapons while one of the marines stole you away from the hive. You heard the alien screech at your absence while its drones returned to the hive, no doubt to rid of the troop still inside, and as you were taken away…the world suddenly grew quiet as you no longer paid any mind to the hive.

#xenomorph x reader #xenomorph #alien #aliens #alien vs predator #this xeno is specifically movie based but i'll still mark it as this for future stuff: #dbd xenomorph #specimen seven

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

A test of faith- Lee Sa-ra x reader drabble

TW: mentions of homophobia/conversion therapy, coercion, mentions of illegal substances, generally a fucked up fic. MINORS DNI PLEASE

Serving God was not on top of your bingo card for this year. But through a long process you were here. Religion was a bit of a taboo in your family. Your grandparents were religious. Your parents, not so much. But the tables turned when they caught you sleeping with another woman. So, off to "curing" you, you were "sick". And the only place that could "help" you was the church. It took a few years, but you were "fixed". Bullshit. Conversion camp just made you a lot sneakier when it came to hooking up with girls. Sadly, it also made you miss a lot of high-school and college. So when you came out of there, you could not land a job. There was no way to explain the gap in your resume. Yeah, my parents sent me away for being too gay wasn't really a catch for employers. So you had to go back and work for the church. You could be a counselor for the camp. Fuck that. You weren't about to scare some poor teenagers straight. So the only other option was working for the church. Cleaning, organizing events, even working behind the counter and collecting the entrance fee, you'd do it all. Though unfortunately the only way you could get a job was by asking in person.

You were terrible at interviews. Generally you were a shy person and you had trouble speaking up. So when it was time to "sell yourself" to employers, you were screwed. You wiped your sweaty palms against your skirt. It wasn't going to be that hard. 30 minutes to 45, in and out, talking about redemption, devotion, just wanting to help out.

They called you in, but instead of a small room with a desk and chairs, they led you into a pretty bare room. Before you could question anything, the door behind you was slammed and locked. And on the other side of the room, you could see the same happening to someone else. Then that person stepped forward and holy shit, it was Lee Sa-ra. The famous abstract painter, who just happened to be the daughter of the church leaders. But what was she doing here? And why were you both alone in a room? Actually, you looked around and saw that there was a bulky man keeping guard at the door. Why would you escape? Just as you thought that, a voice carried over the speakers. It said your name, followed by ''I guess you are very confused, sister. You see, you came here for a job. And we admire that. But you must know that guide lost souls back to the righteous path. But have you earned redemption? Or are you still a sinner? Can you resist temptation? and then cut out. Another message began, this time for Sa-ra. ''Sa-ra, you need redemption too. Though your sin is different. You were always more like Lilith, rather than Eve. So, use that. Earn your forgiveness by condemning others. ''

Then it got quiet. You and Sa-ra looked at each other. ''So, they obviously want us to turn on each other. But I have no benefit to sabotage you. You wanna join the church and press people, giving them the fear of God? Be my fucking guest. Judging from what I heard, you've been through some messed up shit too. So if this is your calling, go ahead. I tell you what, even standing here in your presence made me holly. So, we're free to go.'' she said. Sa-ra stared straight at our guard. He just sighed, cleared his throat, and pulled a large bag of white powder from seemingly nowhere.

''Nice try. I can buy flour too, jackass.'' Sa-ra said.

The guard once again didn't say anything, just went over to you. He dragged you by the hair and forced you to sit as he grabbed his key. He spread the white powder over it and pressed your face near it. Still, you refused to inhale. He squeezed your throat until you gasped for breath and the white powder was in your nose. He did that a few more times and carried you back to Sa-ra.

''Watch her and then tell me if it's the real stuff'' he said. Sa-ra placed her hand on your pulse point and waited for some time. She could feel your heartbeat skyrocket, watching you shiver, and repeatedly bounce your leg up and down.

But what tipped her off was your nosebleed. ''Holy shit'' Sara said. ''You gave her actual coke. ''she continued in disbelief. She knew that her parents and overall the church would never be okay with this, yet here she was on holy grounds, taking care of you, a complete stranger. So that led her to believe that this was some very fucked up revenge plan or blackmail of some sort. Or was it a test of faith?

And here you were, on a job interview, being high as a kite. But the strangeness was far from over. Because the real fun was just now getting started. The voice over the speakers began again. But this time it was different. No longer cryptic and confusing. It was clear as a bell. ''Sa-ra, you want drugs. And the other one here wants a job. But only one of you can make it out of here with your wish intact. There's a certain sin that you have both committed. Timothy 1:10.''

Sa-ra stared at you for an explanation. ''We're both gay. It's one of the 6 mentions of homosexuality in the Bible. Those have been drilled into me since conversion camp.''

''So, we've both been with some women, big deal. But how does that tie in with what we have to do to get out of here?'' Sa-ra asked. Silently you wondered that too. How could you trick her to be more gay than you? How would that be measured? Your brain replayed the previous instructions to you. It had been urging her to tempt you, so did they mean seduce you. So maybe the first one to make a move would lose. Or win. It was a dangerous gamble, but you decided to try it. You leaned it and pressed your lips to Sa-ra's. And it felt good. To your surprise, she kissed back.

Maybe it was because you were under the influence. Maybe it was because she had been your celebrity crush for some time. But you could work with this. You let her deepen the kiss and even let out a soft moan. You were already getting a bit drunk on this. You hoped that this was enough. At this point, you didn't even care about losing the job. You just wanted to go home. You finally thought you were free, as you heard the voice over the speakers again. ''I see both little lambs are on the right track. But what is a mere kiss? Did Judas not kiss Jesus? We want more. And we want it now. So I'll put it plainly for you. Whoever makes the other cum wins.''

You were shocked. But then you looked around the room. The security guard was gone. And Sa-ra was stripping. She was like an angel, you thought. Then it dawned on you how fucked up this whole thing was. Why was she going along with this so easily? Were drugs so important to her that she was willing to sacrifice her dignity like this? But then you had heard the rumors. Her stunts in Paris, with reporters calling her a whore, who sleeps on the streets. Her many dating rumors. There was the scandal of her being a sugar mommy for this college girl while using the church money. You weren't one for gossip anyway.

''Throwing in the towel,'' she asked. Then she kissed you again. You knew that you would be screwed if you also didn't do anything. So you just went with it, hoping to do some damage as well. Both of you slowly went to the floor, kissing each other. There were bits where you almost wrestled. You knew if you took control of her, maybe you could win even though dominance wasn't always your thing. But apparently, you weren't the only one with that idea. And Sa-ra somehow had more experience than you. She easily pinned you down and started taking off your clothes. Your button-down was off. Your skirt was halfway down your legs. It would help if you hated this. You should use every muscle in your body to try to escape her. Or even better turn the tables and get a shot at winning this thing. But instead, you just pulled your panties to the side. Fuck it, you were losing, but at least you'd get a nut out of it. Sa-ra spread your legs and started rubbing your clit. ''You're already so wet. At least you're gonna make this easy for me,'' she said.

You noticed a camera in the corner of the room. Shit, was it even on. And was it broadcasting this online? You were completely exposed. So you decided you weren't going down without a fight, no pun intended. First, you leaned into Sa-ra's touch, making her think you were on her side. Then, you say ''Sara unnie, you know I feel so good. But I never come from fingers. They just make me feel full and satisfied, but it's never enough. Can you please lick me? ''

She probably questioned this, as she could feel how close you were, how your walls were drawing her fingers in, and how tightly your pussy was gripping her. But she said nothing, just obliged your request. Guess altruism wasn't dead. Either that or she was a really good dom top. And apparently, this wasn't the only thing she was good at. Lee Sa-ra could retire and eat pussy for a living. You were about to show her that you weren't lacking in that department either. Or should we say, eater? As she was getting more and more into it, she let down her guard more. And you decided to strike. While her face was still buried deep in your cunt, you buried yours in hers. Thank God for Sa-ra's love for dresses. You felt bad about ripping her designer clothes. But you were not walking out of this room without a fight. At least this way you wouldn't be a sore loser. You moved her underwear to the side and began eating her out. Shit, she was wet, possibly even wetter than you. Was this whole thing turning her on? You selfishly wished that this whole thing didn't happen and the two of you met in a normal way. If that were the case, mutual orgasms would be a given.

69 wasn't your favorite position. Or at least it hadn't been until now. Your bodies were pressed closely together, so with every move your tits were rubbing against Sa-ra's and hers against yours. Not only that, but every moan she let out was a vibration on your clit. Fuck, you could get used to this. You could feel yourself getting ready to cum, but Sa-ra was also close. So you kept your tongue on her clit and slipped a finger inside of her. And that was all she needed to finish. At the exact same second that you did.

At least this was over. There was no winner, no loser. Until you heard the voice on the speakers announce. ''Round 1, Draw. Please prepare for a tiebreaker.''

#the glory #the glory x reader #Lee sa-ra #sara lee #Lee Sara x reader

[elliewiltarwyn]

A Specialized Problem (OC Swap Gift for @mythandral)

for the FFXIV OC Swap discord's current swap, my giftee is the incomparable @mythandral! Coming in a little under the wire here cause the deadline is on Sunday ghasldkfjkasd BUT I'm really glad I finally sat myself down and devoted the energy to exploring Myth's whole deal because it's all so cool and fascinating and he's a wonderful character, and I hope this gift lives up to those standards!!

I present a 2,321-word fluffy MythXStephanivien fic illustrated with gposes from Steph's POV centered around Myth. I offered either gposes or fic writing, and then hubristically decided I could do both. >.> also there was technically a theme for the swap but thankfully they were optional because I completely forgot sdghalshgf however I suppose you could say this is adjacent to the Valentione's/Love option?? it is goddamn cotton-candy levels of fluff at least lol

ANYWAY WITHOUT FURTHER ADO hope you all and Myth in particular enjoy!!

It was well after the end of the workday, with the gray Coerthan clouds beginning to tint orange and the sun beginning to aim its reach through the still-open doors of the manufactory, and Myth had yet to move an ilm from his spot.

This in and of itself wasn’t terribly surprising; Stephanivien was used to his husband’s tendency to focus on his projects to the exclusion of most else. It was a method of increasing his productivity and a process of healing both for him, allowing him to turn his anxieties into progress on any number of little projects that had fallen by the wayside in the manufactory’s assembly line, but ones that would be of immense benefit to unfortunate folk from the slowly-ascending peasants of the Brume to the steadily-recovering citizens of Garlemald. Even if it were for no benefit but his own, Stephanivien would never begrudge him these times to himself; Fury knows he could use some of those moments, butting heads with his lord father and Tedalgrinche and other such doubters all day as he does. Albeit less so these days.

No, Stephanivien’s concern was more prosaic: typically, Myth’s personal space in these times was active and bright, delighting in the sounds of his tools tinkering with his project, examining it from every angle and frequently ducking his head and craning his neck into unusual positions to do so, not to mention how he would gladly explicate upon his process to any who asked, especially if they were new hires of the manufactory who were like to stand there in awe of the Warrior of Light more than actually listen to a word he was saying. Quite frankly, Myth was a delight when he was in these moods.

Today, it had been anything but: Mythandral Raas, beloved senior engineer of Skysteel Manufactory, husband of its proprietor, and Warrior of Light, had spent near the full afternoon gazing blankly at the device in pieces before him on the table — his own aetherometer. His elbows had rested on the table for what seemed to be several bells, his hands clasped across the bridge of his nose as his burnished golden eyes, the color of the sun hiding behind the overcast sky, traced the span of gears, nuts, bolts and wires sprawled across his workspace. Most disturbingly, he had paid no heed to any who tried to draw his attention — not that anyone pressed particularly far, fearful as they were of disturbing such a notable figure of renown, no matter how open-minded and approachable Myth presented himself.

‘Twas quite strange for Myth, but Stephanivien had some ideas percolating in his overactive mind — both as to the cause and as to possible solutions.

And so as the day wound down and countless employees and guild trainees trickled out the door, each bidding both proprietor and Warrior of Light good night, Stephanivien pretended to busy himself with a pile of messy letters that a Haillenarte manservant had delivered earlier that day, flipping and reading through the same three or four until activity in the manufactory died down, until all that could be heard was the sound of steam rushing through pipes and small hisses of exhaust — the murmurs, chatter, and laughter of his employees finally absent. Even now, Myth continued to regard his aetherometer sternly, attempting to solve a puzzle that, Stephanivien admitted, could stump even himself.

Once he had judged it to be likely they truly were the last in the manufactory, Stephanivien raised his voice slightly to note, “Stare any harder, my dear, and you’re like to burn a hole straight through the thing.”

Finally, for the first time in several hours, Myth’s head rose from its downturned angle. Smirking to himself, Stephanivien balled up the letters in his hand, tossed them over his shoulder into the wastebasket, and slipped out from behind the desk to make for his partner’s side. As his boots clacked across the wooden floor, Myth’s head slowly craned around to gaze up at him over his shoulder, blinking fairly irregularly and furrowing his brow as if he had just awoken from deep slumber. “Of course, if doing so would solve your seemingly impenetrable dilemma, then I wholeheartedly encourage it by all means.” Stephanivien winked. “As I always encourage exploring such unorthodox methods.”

“Unfortunately, this is a matter that requires a delicate approach,” Myth demurred as the corner of his lips tugged upwards slightly. “I won’t deny I’ve been quite tempted to incinerate the blasted thing a number of times, though.”

“’Twould certainly eradicate the problem in one sense.” Now by his side, Stephanivien reached over and laid a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder while extending the other around in front; Myth took the hint and reached up to clasp it, each machinist curling their fingers around each other’s thick padded gloves. “Shall I take a look? Fresh perspectives oft bear unforeseen solutions, as you well know.”

Myth sighed. “You’re welcome to, I suppose, but I fear this is a particularly specialized problem. It involves…well.” He chuckled, sat up a little, and wryly rapped his knuckles against his own chest; Stephanivien knew very well the “problem” laying beneath Myth’s perfectly-tailored, shockingly-clean-for-a-Skysteel-engineer shirt. “My stint with the Light is largely resolved, but I am still particularly susceptible to fluctuations in my aether, particularly when I’m doing something aether-intensive; when I accrue a surfeit, the probability that the aetherometer will jam rises — the lightning-aspected aether it is supposed to draw becomes imbalanced toward the umbral.” With his free hand, he reached for a small wrench that laid on the table next to the meter, flipped it into his fingers with all the dexterity of a Lominsan rogue with their knives, and drummed it along the length of an internal piece of the meter’s machinery. “I am trying to figure out how to filter Light aether and restore the lightning’s astral balance, in essence.”

Stephanivien frowned. “That is quite the conundrum — after all, if it were possible before…”

“…I would likely have had a much easier time in the First, yes,” Myth mused with a grim chuckle.

“That aether fluctuations could cause errors with the extraction is a possibility I ought to have considered. It pains me to know my oversight has been causing you grief.”

“Come now, there’s no way you could have possibly known ‘twould be an issue when you invented this,” Myth immediately interjected, shaking his head up at his husband with a mischievous grin. “Frankly, had you, it would have raised serious questions about your choice of occupation. You could make a killing with that sort of precognition.”

Stephanivien submitted to a chuckle himself as he squeezed his husband’s hand and shoulder both. “You say that, and yet I am not unaware of the skeptical glares everyone still gives my prospectometer.” Myth stifled a laugh with his other hand, a sound Stephanivien had not heard all day and had sorely missed. “At any rate, mayhap we should step away from the problem for a time? Even your genius mind cannot carry on forever without rest and recuperation.” That being said, Stephanivien’s insides churned, as he knew quite well why Myth had been focusing so intently on solving this particular puzzle. From the tales he had heard, from what he had seen cross his husband’s torso, the Light had done quite a number on him, to put it far too lightly…

Thankfully, Myth’s response to the proposition was to sigh, lean his head against Stephanivien’s hand, and murmur, “Perhaps you have a point.” He groaned and stretched his other arm and both legs outward, rotating his wrist and feet as he stretched his neck to one side, then the other. There was a grimace on his face when he muttered, “I definitely should not have sat here all day. Have you aught in mind for an alternate activity?”

“‘Activity’ should not be a factor in the equation, my dear…” Stephanivien trailed off as his gaze tracked towards the chronometer sitting on the manufactory’s front desk. The specific time that it was currently displaying suddenly ignited the spark of an idea in his mind, and he grinned. “Though I do believe I’ve thought of something. Here — follow me.”

Myth’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he allowed Stephanivien to pull him to his feet and start to make for the stairs hand-in-hand. Stephanivien’s heart beat faster and faster in his breast as they climbed those stairs to the manufactory’s upper story, crossing the landing until they reached one of the doors on the far side with a ‘No Entry’ placard hanging off the handles; Stephanivien carelessly yanked it off and pulled Myth through, crossing into a poorly-lit corridor.

“Hm.” Even in the darkness, Stephanivien was well aware of the arched eyebrow upon his husband’s face. “I can’t say I’ve ever been down this way.”

“You did not think the ‘No Entry’ was a physical barrier, surely?”

“You never know.”

Stephanivien laughed gaily as they began to climb another set of stairs. After all his worrying, all Myth’s trials, he could not well describe the extent to which he was walking on clouds hearing his partner’s sense of humor return to prominence.

There wasn’t much further banter as the two ascended the stairs to an extent much further than Stephanivien was sure Myth expected, distracted as they were with the effort and the numbered floors counting off in Stephanivien’s mind. Once they reached the fifth landing, he diverted off the steps onto it and led Myth down another few dark corridors, eventually reaching one sitting unremarkedly at the far end.

“You may want to cover your eyes for a moment,” Stephanivien warned with a cheeky grin; Myth looked confused still, but obliged, lowering his goggles and shading them with his hand. Holding his breath in anticipation, Stephanivien yanked the door open and pulled Myth through.

The moment the sun fell across Myth’s face, it rose in shock, his lips slightly parted as it literally dawned on him what was happening. “Wait, but…”

Stephanivien couldn’t help a satisfied smirk as he gently coaxed his partner forward, stepping onto a surprisingly wide stone landing and making for its edge. “Ishgard has a reputation for dreariness that is not wholly unearned,” he said matter-of-factly, “but there are certain places that are adept at reminding me ‘twas not always a cold and biting clime.”

“Right here at the manufactory?” Myth replied in awe; having apparently gotten used to it now, he pushes his goggles back up onto his forehead and lowers his hand, his golden eyes sweeping back and forth, taking in the vista before them.

“‘Tis not particularly known, and I am ill-inclined to reveal it to most. But of course, I will make certain exceptions.” Stephanivien beams at Myth as they reach the edge and draw to a standstill, relishing the way the widening of his partner’s eyes gave him premium access to the view of their golden pupils, now soaking in not just the scenic view of the ridges of Abalathia’s Spine but the way the sun perfectly sat at the apex of one of the gaps between the Pillars for which the district was so named.

A hesitance struck Stephanivien at that moment, the potential pitfalls of his devious plan now catching up with his overactive mind. After all, if Light was the source of such woe for him… But he remained resolute as he gestured at the vista, lingering in particular on the rays of the sun, so strong with such defined shapes that he swore he could reach out and pluck them from the frigid air. “The sun travels over Coerthas as normal, of course — but it never nestles into what I would declare its proper spot aside from this particular time of day, in this particular season.”

He exhaled a visible puff of air and put his hand on his hip, the other now tightly beginning to curl into Myth’s. “From this spot,” he began quietly, “I can remember easier that we are not so isolated here in Ishgard — that the warm touch of the sun can reach even us.” His gaze flicked up to Myth’s eyes again, meeting them as Myth turned to stare at him. “Both that we need not suffer our trials alone… and that ‘tis still possible to partake of that which is comforting about the light.”

Myth’s other hand, on apparent instinct, rose up and placed itself directly upon his chest, over the precise centerpoint where Stephanivien knew the scars laid. “Steph,” he breathed, “you…”

Stephanivien chewed his lip anxiously, the nerves beginning to rise to a fever pitch as he suddenly found himself unable to read his husband’s expression. “I apologize profusely if I’ve given any offense,” he murmurs, averting his gaze, “I merely thought—”

A leather glove wraps around his hip and pulls him in to share a deep kiss with Myth, one which he enthusiastically reciprocates, reaching up to cup his partner’s cheek and move in for a more comfortable position, a warm position, here in the arms of Mythandral Raas.

“You are,” Myth breathed between kisses, “as always, a genius, and have the answer to everything.” They pulled apart slightly, just enough to rest their foreheads against each other; Stephanivien stifled a chuckle as their goggles clacked awkwardly against each other. “Thank you, my love.”

Stephanivien grinned. “I’m overjoyed to have helped.” They kissed again, and Stephanivien began to tangle his fingers in the lengths of Myth’s luxurious hair. “If you like,” he whispered somewhat mischievously, “I can steal down briefly for some of the ale stores? I’ve found it goes quite well with the view.”

“Oh, on any other day, I would gladly,” Myth replied, pulling back and grinning at his husband. “But tonight, I think I would keep my mind clear. I’ve just had a flash of inspiration about my problem, after all.”

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv gpose #my fanfiction #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv swap #elezen #stephanivien de haillenarte #stephanivien x wol #other's ocs: Mythandral Raas #thank you sm for trusting me with Myth he's fantastic!! #also this is actually the first time i've ever posed elezen!! #and for some reason i found their heights so much more difficult to wrangle than femroes?? i dont get it?? #also also i apologize if any or all of this doesn't line up with Official Myth Lore™️but i tried my best! 🙂

[sequinsmile-x]

Like a Light

It's the annual FBI blood draw and Aaron has an adverse reaction to donating.

He was never going to live this down.

-x-

Hi friends,

Really not sure where this came from, it's just a silly little thing that wouldn't leave me alone.

I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy (the fic is not about pregnancy, but Emily is pregnant in it)

Words: 2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily blows out a breath as she drops her pen onto her desk, her eyes flicking between her pile of complete paperwork and what she still had to do. She looks at her husband’s empty office and then all of her friends abandoned desks and she groans. She shakes her head at herself as she stands up, one hand on her bump and the other on the desk as she supports herself.

“Come on kid,” she says, rubbing a circle where she feels her baby moving, “Let’s go see, Daddy.” 

She was 7 months along and regulated to desk duty. It had happened a little earlier than she would have originally liked, but ultimately she was grateful for it. She was tired and sore and couldn't even begin to imagine how she’d feel in eight weeks when she was still pregnant. She was looking forward to meeting her baby, to find out what she was having since she and Aaron had decided to keep it a secret until they were born, but she was also looking forward to having more control over her body again. 

She was uncomfortable almost all the time. Her breasts hurt and were two cups sizes bigger than they used to be. Her lower back had a persistent ache and she had acne like she hadn’t since she was a teenager. 

She smiles to herself as she walks towards the temporary medical room that had been set up in the conference room, and the large sign that was displayed outside. 

FBI Blood Drive. 

There were definitely some benefits to being pregnant, and today getting out of the annual blood drive felt like one of them. 

It was the BAU’s turn, and they’d all been in the conference room for around 20 minutes. Even though she couldn’t donate herself that didn’t mean she couldn’t sit with them for a while. She smiles as she walks into the room, her eyes immediately meeting her husband’s. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi sweetheart,” Aaron says, smiling at her from across the room, “What are you doing here?” 

She shrugs as she starts to walk across towards him, “I was bored in the bullpen by myself,” she says, smiling at her friends as they all lay on their loungers, all in different stages of the blood donation process, “Thought I’d come to join the party.” 

JJ chuckles as she nods towards the catheter in her arm, “How long has it been since you went to a party, Em?” 

Emily smiles as she rubs over her bump, “Not sure, but it’s been at least 7 months.” 

Derek raises his eyebrow at her from where he was lying, grimacing as the nurse tightens the tourniquet around his tricep, “I see you managed to get out of this, Princess.” 

She rolls her eyes as she sits next to Aaron’s lounger, her hand on her bump as she lowers herself down, “Yes, Derek, I decided to have a whole ass baby just to get out of the FBI blood drive this year,” she quips, her smile turning into a smirk. “It was either this or fake my death again, and the pre-work involved with pregnancy is a lot more enjoyable.” 

She chuckles as her husband and her friends groan at the same time, protesting her suggestive comment simultaneously. 

“Em.” 

“Prentiss.” 

Emily looks at Aaron and shrugs her shoulders innocently, “Am I wrong?” 

Aaron shakes his head at her and then winces as the nurse pulls the catheter out of his arm now his donation is complete and presses a bandaid to his skin. 

“Just sit here for about 15 minutes and then you are good to go, Agent Hotchner,” the nurse says, smiling at him as she offers him a cookie, “Make sure you eat that.” 

“Thanks,” he says, smiling politely at her. He starts to open the cookie but gets interrupted when his phone starts to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket and sighs when he sees Strauss’s name on the screen. He answers it quickly, “Hotchner.” 

Emily initially tries to listen in on his conversation but is distracted when the nurse hands a cookie to her, a kind smile on her face. 

“Oh,” Emily says, looking at the baked good, salivating at just the thought of it, “I didn’t donate,” she says, resting her hand on her bump.

“Oh I know,” the nurse says, winking at her as she holds the plate of cookies even closer, “But when I was having my youngest, I had such a sweet tooth. Plus you’re having a whole ass baby,” she says, her eye sparkling slightly as she repeats Emily’s words from earlier, “You deserve a cookie.” 

She nods and takes one of them, “Thank you,” she says, already tearing into the packet, “I do deserve it.” 

She takes a bite and moans at the taste, shooting a glare at Dave across the room when he laughs at her, but any comment she may have made is stopped as Aaron sits up, his phone still against his ear. 

“Of course ma’am, I’ll be there straight away.” He hangs up the phone and stands up, turning to look at Emily, “I need to go see Strauss, there’s an issue with the budgeting report.” 

“Agent Hotchner,” the nurse says, standing up herself, “You really need to sit down, it’s only been a couple of minutes-”

“I’ll be okay,” he says, already thinking about how Strauss was going to yell at him, to use paperwork as an excuse to eat into his evening with Emily and Jack, “I really need to go…”

He drifts off as he steps away from the lounger and he’s hit with a wave of nausea. It feels like time slows down as he tries to shake it off, but it only makes it worse. The floor starts to sway beneath him and his vision starts to tunnel. He tries to rest his hand on the lounger to support his weight but he misses, his co-ordination gone. 

The last thing he’s aware of before he hits the floor is the nurse and Emily calling out his name. “Agent Hotchner.”

“Aaron.”

___

The first thing he thinks when he wakes up is that he is never going to live this down. 

He groans as he opens his eyes, the light-headed feeling still lingering as his vision starts to clear. He has two nurses standing in front of him, both of them looking concerned, and he groans again. 

“Agent Hotchner, are you feeling okay? You fainted.” 

“I’m fine,” he says, his words sounding weak to his own ears. He blinks a couple of times, grateful when his eyesight finally clears entirely. 

“We’ll help you up,” the nurse says, and he doesn’t shake off the help, knowing he would likely still be unsteady on his feet. He stands up and they each hook their arm through one of his and guide him back to his lounger. “You didn’t hit your head so that’s good,” the nurse replies, placing a bottle of water on the small table next to him, “Drink that and eat your cookie. And don’t stand up again until we say you can.” 

He hears a chuckle from the other side of the room and he glares at Derek, his stern look doing nothing to dampen his friend's amusement. Aaron feels a squeeze of his hand and he turns to look at his wife, his heart clenching in his chest at the poorly concealed concern painted across her face, “I’m fine, Em. I promise. I just stood up too quickly.” 

She isn’t sure she believes him. 

She’d watched it happen in slow motion. She’d seen how his eyes had glazed over as he fell to the ground like he weighed nothing, even though she knows exactly how heavy he is. Before she was too pregnant to do anything other than sleep on her side wrapped around a special pillow, she loved to sleep with him half on top of her, the weight of him a comfort, something that would always bring her back to herself when her nightmares came calling. 

It had scared the shit out of her, her panic way outweighing the situation, her love for him making it hard to breathe until he woke up. She’d tried to help but everyone, the medical staff and the team, had all told her to sit down. For once, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to defy what someone had told her and she’d sat in the chair next to his lounger, her hand on her bump as her baby started to move even more, spurred on by the spike in her blood pressure. 

She’ll tell him all of this later when they are home. When Jack was in bed and she could give herself space to feel everything she was feeling right now, because she knows she’ll cry, forever at the mercy of her hormones, and she doesn’t want to do that here. 

So she falls back into what she knows, at best, is a defence mechanism, and she smirks at him, the teasing comment slipping past her lips without any resistance. 

“If this is what happens when you donate blood I dread to think what you’ll be like in the delivery room when I give birth.” 

Aaron smiles at her and squeezes her hand, well aware that she was deflecting, that she preferred to use humour in moments like this, storing up her real emotions for when they got home. 

“The length’s you’ll go to in order to get out of a meeting with Strauss,” Dave quips, smirking when everyone, including Emily and Aaron, laugh.

“It’s a good thing you have a room full of witnesses,” JJ adds, an amused smile spreading across her face, “Otherwise I don’t think she’d believe you.” 

Emily starts to feel irritation bubbling in her gut, even though Aaron seemed to be taking the gentle mocking from everyone quite well, doing nothing more than smiling and rolling his eyes as their friends took it in turns to make fun of him. She can’t really explain why she’s feeling so protective, why her spine straightens out as her body tenses whilst everyone merely carries on what she’d started, but she’d stopped trying to figure out her emotions the moment she realised she was pregnant. She sees Derek open his mouth, and it’s her final straw, the snap of her control over how she was feeling reverberating around her head. 

“Stop making fun of him,” she says, cutting off Derek before he can even speak as the words escape before she can stop them, irritation she doesn’t fully understand burning in her chest. She looks at Derek and narrows her eyes, “Don’t make me bring up the time you and Reid got stuck in an elevator and screamed like little girls when it jolted.” 

“Hey,” Spencer says, frowning as he looks at her, “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“Sorry Spence,” she says, smiling apologetically at him, “Collateral damage.” 

“You started it, Em,” Derek says, furrowing his brow at her, “So you’re allowed to make fun of him and we’re not.” 

“Exactly,” she replies, “I’m his wife,” she says, raising her eyebrow in challenge when Derek looks at her like that isn’t explanation enough, “You’re allowed to make fun of him the moment you’re the one who sucks his-”

“Okay, thank you sweetheart,” Aaron says, cutting her off before she can say anything else, his hand firm around hers, “I appreciate the support but I’m fine, I promise.” 

She grumbles under her breath, her irritation still flowing through her veins, setting her on fire from the inside out. She looks at his still uneaten cookie and then back at him.

“You’d better eat that,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him, “Or I will, and I don’t want to be responsible for you fainting a second time today.” 

Aaron sighs as he hears barely concealed laughter from across the room, and he picks up the cookie and takes a bite.

He was never going to live this down. 

-x-

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction

[cattyanon]

In lieu of me posting art or a fic, I am here to present a new AU that's been sitting around in my head for awhile.

The premise is that Sonic, nearing the end of a fight, loses his footing (or smth like that) and tumbles down a small cliff/hill. But before he can get up a huge boulder lands on his feet and renders him immobile. And due to the fighting earlier, his communicator is broken. A few days go by with Sonic in lots of pain and his Chaos Energy starts to build up. Usually he'd get rid of it by running but uh. Can't exactly do that since he's stuck. So what happens with the buildup of Chaos Energy? Well it starts leaking and taking the form of uncontrollable plant powers.

Meanwhile with the other characters, Sonic has been gone for a concerning amount of time but there's also been strange reports of wild plant growth and people being attacked. To make it worse, the plants are in the general area of Sonic's last known location. Over time it gets progressively worse and eventually Angel Island becomes their home base as it's one of the few places untouchable by the plants. After lots of investigating and coordination, Tails, Amy, Knuckle, and Team Dark locate what they believe to be the source of the overgrowth (an abnormal chaos energy reading) and mount a mission to hopefully put a stop to the plants once and for all.

They tear down and kill all the plants in their path and start to hear screaming. Was there somebody else out here? But why and how? Not only that, but the yelling is coming from the direction of the suspected source. Eventually they reach a clearing and find... Sonic?!

Sonic's legs have been crushed by a boulder, he's covered in plants (the most notable being a giant flower on his back), his body is shaking, seems to be letting out screams in sync with them hurting the plants, whimpering, and has a bit of a blank look on his face.

Oddly, the plants that had just been attacking them began to stop. But it was like an outside source was just barely stopping them from doing so.

As for Sonic, this is the first time he's seen people in what feels like forever and he really didn't want them getting hurt. Because of this he's just barely able and unknowingly stopping the plants from attacking them. The feeling of wanting them to stop attacking was especially amplified upon seeing Tails, although his memory is a bit fuzzy due to the circumstances.

They manage to untrap Sonic and the plants seem pretty docile now and not out of control like before. Of course, they do plan how they untrap Sonic so he's less likely to bleed out or whatever. In the process they discover that the giant flower on his back is attached to him- and is eventually theorized to be part of the reason Sonic lived so long by giving him the ability to photosynthesize.

That's about all I got story wise but here's a little more information on this Sonic:

-Clingy towards Tails.

-Touch starved.

-Completely mute for awhile. Eventually becomes selectively mute and, when he does talk, he speaks in short sentences and not very loudly.

-Has prosthetic legs built by Tails.

-Slowly learns to control his plant powers.

-The reason his plant powers began attacking people was in response to Sonic's own fear over his situation.

-Doesn't need to eat or drink as long as he's got regular access to the sun on account of photosynthesis. Sleeping isn't required either but it has benefits.

-Has a hard time stomaching any food. Not only has he gone so long without it but his body had adapted to living without it soooo...

-He's also gonna have other plant-like qualities that I still need to think about. Like how his anatomy has changed like I mentioned above.

#as always feel free to ask questions #sonic au #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #not entirely sure what to name this au yet #here's a temp name for it: #plant sonic au

[cornerstoreclown]

His Blessing

Summary: This is a short one-shot ( 3454 words approx. ) where the reader has convinced Art to roleplay a hostage situation with them where they get to be one of his victims. Don’t worry, the reader comes out of this fic fine! I genuinely promise, I would tell y’all if otherwise. The reader is gender neutral and has a vulva. The reader is not specifically mentioned to have breasts either, so that’s up for the reader to decide what their chest looks like. 

Content and Warnings: Consensual rough sexual activities, some light BDSM, vaginal fingering, biting, marking, some slight blood, hair pulling, knife play mention, mention of guns and the standard Art paraphernalia, corruption of the reader’s mind, slight transformation (?) that’s more along the line of new abilities of the reader during their descent to whatever Art is making of them. Art’s gift, as it were. Being his ‘favorite’ comes with benefits, after all! 

Author’s notes: This was VERY hard for me to write but extremely indulgent. I struggled a lot, HAHA. I’ve written smut plenty a time, but doing it in a canon x reader fic is something I’ve done rarely. This one took so much time because of that. Anyway, I hope that those who are into this sort of thing, enjoy it! For those that are looking for more domestic stuff, stay tuned--I got you. 

------------------------------------------------------

“Safe word is red,” You tell Art, looking over your shoulder at the man who has just tied you up with metal chains to a chair. You don’t get a response, but you know he’s listening. Your hands are bound to the armrests, your ankles tied to the legs of the chair, thighs parted for him. He finishes the job with a gentle boop to your nose, and you feel butterflies in your stomach, before you feel a little bit of chills down your spine. The room was cold, and being in nothing but a tank top and shorts didn’t do you a whole lot of favors. 

However, given the circumstance, you anticipate that you’ll be warmed up in no time. 

Art barged his way into your life, and you willingly let him in. He kept you safe, and you gave him a home. You were his, and he was yours. You’re not sure at what point when you were together that you began to feel less and less like the you that you knew before the Miles County Clown, but whatever influence he’s placed upon you without your initial knowing, you like it. 

You were once shy, reserved. Now, he’s made you brave. He’s made you proud. You fear very little now. And for better or for worse, you’ve even found your mind a little twisted in the process, the thought of danger a thrill to you, and the very concept of others getting hurt a little… funny. People now notice how you look so much healthier, you seem happier, and that you’re far more charismatic than what you’d ever been. As of late, however, you’ve found yourself having a penchant for violence. The craving itches under your skin like a parasite, and hasn’t stopped since you first noticed it. It’s been driving your nuts, feeling like if you don’t act on it soon enough, you’ll go mad. 

You remember telling him about your feelings and those urges, and Art only looked surprised, but your familiarity with him allowed you to see past that response–he was pretending like he didn’t know what you were referring to. Whatever he was doing to you, he was aware of it, and you were too. And yet, you didn’t bother to slip away from it. The red string of fate that is wrapped around your soul is attached to his too, but he’s not ensnared in it like you are–no, he’s the one keeping you restrained in it and has the string between you both wrapped solely around his arm, pulling you along with him like it were a leash. 

The room is full of stained blood splatters at various locations that range anywhere from the ceiling, to the floors, and the walls. The chair you’re sitting on is also stained, and you’re not at all bothered by any of it. You’re not sure if Art had actually killed someone in here, if it was like this before he got here, or if the blood was his own–it was hard to say. He was pretty notorious for bleeding out and taking damage from time to time when wrangling someone. You’ve even tended to some of his wounds before in the past. What you do know is that the place smells a little musty, and there’s one light source, which is the single swaying lamp from the ceiling at the center of the room. Art has a workbench here full of improvised weapons behind you that you saw when you walked in. Things such as forks, glass bottles, scissors, screwdrivers, a hacksaw, an ice ax, pliers, some dental tools–it’s really a mix all out on the table and you didn’t have the slightest negative reaction when you saw it. In fact, you felt a little tickle.

So many things to torment you with if he wanted, and you’re exposing yourself to him trusting him to not kill you with any of it. He’s inflicted pain on you before because you’ve asked for it, and even then, you knew he was showing self restraint during those times, waiting to see if you’d beg for him to stop, and you never did. He’d cut you, choke you, slap you, yank you by your hair, but all of it was wanted. It was something he was even happy to oblige you on.

Something along the way of all those times, there was a change to your body. Your wounds healed fast in the way that his would, and the sensation of pain in your brain transformed to pleasure. It had to be because of him, you reasoned. There was no other way, there couldn’t be. He was changing you, not just mentally, but physically. You don’t know how, but you do know you don’t care to know anymore, because it is what it is at this point. He’s molded you into the perfect toy, built you up from the ground up in such a way that any sensation of pain only fires off reward signals in your brain. You’ve been completely rewired.

Being tied up and at his mercy is what you wanted. You told him yourself that you wanted to be in his victims shoes, that you wanted to feel the way that they felt. This wasn’t something that you ever initially wanted and even once would be horrified to humor. But people were allowed to change, you told yourself. You were allowed to change. What’s wrong with a little consensual roleplay with a killer clown? Nothing like feeling like you’re walking on a tightrope at all times.

Art runs a hand across the side of your face as he lingers behind you and the chair you sit in. You lean into his touch, feeling yourself melt a little. For someone who could kill and maim so effortlessly, those same hands were capable of much kindness, but only reserved for you. Hands that could rip your jaw clean off the hinged joints, don’t. They only caress. 

With his other hand, you feel his fingers massage your scalp before they sharply ensnare your hair and yank your head back to look up at him. It’s then that you are forced to see him looking down at you and towering over you, and you admit—he looks a little intimidating and there’s not a glimmer of kindness on his face to be found for the role he’s playing. The tug hurts a little and draws a light huff of air out of you, but you’re fine. You’re great, actually! You feel the way that your lips are beginning to turn upwards, the muscles on your face aching with just how wide your smile is. He’s smiling at you in turn, and when your eyes meet in understanding, you feel a glow erupt from your core, enveloping you like a warm blanket. He was aware of his position to play, but to see that flicker of awareness only solidifies your trust. He’s gone this far to put this much work into you, why stop now? 

Anticipation has your heart beginning to race and you sigh, desperate to get more air into your lungs to keep up with your body’s demand for oxygen.

Despite all these tools he has around him, you noticed earlier that he has none in hand. He could have used the knife on you again, he could have made you fellatiate a gun like last time. He could have pulled out a saw like that one night when he tried to frighten you. It’s during this smile of his that you realize that the choice of weapon tonight is not anything handheld, but instead part of him–his mouth. He bares his teeth behind those curled up lips like a hungry lion, and how fitting when you’re easy prey, having nowhere to run as you’re bound up like a little present for his consumption. His jaw is strong, capable of tearing through bone and sinew, and yet it only further riles you up. 

“I love you,” You tell him, and you mean it. You do. He knows you mean it, too. He enjoys the way that you adore him, and the way that your will bends so easily to him and your submission to him. You were at his mercy at all times. You’re alive because he decided to keep you alive. Every breath you took, it was because he let you. Even when the both of you were far apart, you felt him in you. His presence. His essence, implanted in the deepest depths of your being, growing and flourishing like an invasive vine feasting on the endless affection you held for him, strangling out any potential of who you could be without him. It’s gotten to the point where the thought of a life without him doesn’t even occur to you anymore. 

Art lets go of your hair and makes his way near your side now, bending down as he seizes your face by your jaw, meeting you at your level. It happens too fast, and you don’t have much time to react when he comes close. You barely have time to register that his lips are pressing to yours, but when you do, your stomach flips. You feel his tongue trying to pry its way in your mouth, and you let it happen, eyes screwing shut tightly and exhaling heavily through your nostrils as the familiar taste of his bitterness registers upon your tastebuds. It’s not terrible, surprisingly, and you’ve learned to crave it. To crave him.

His kisses are always intoxicating, and with each one, you feel as if a part of you is being sucked away. And maybe it is. He’s forceful against you during, pushing against you so hard that your head goes back a bit. You taste iron before you feel it—pain doesn’t have time to settle as pleasure takes over and you realize that the clown bit your tongue. It’s not a lot of blood, but enough that it floods the space between your kisses together and flavors the exchange. He’s sloppy when he kisses, and each time you try to pull back, he follows in such a passionate way that you think he’s almost trying to eat you. When he does finally back away, you innately know that your lips are stained red with your own blood. 

Your eyes meet his again when he pulls back, and there’s no sign of anything that indicates that he’s got much thought behind them beyond the calls of carnal desire, ravenous hunger, or brutal violence. 

You think it’s all three right now. At least, until he went for your neck.

“Art–!!” You only manage to get out his name, gasping as he drags the top row of his teeth across your throat, yanking your head back by your hair again, this time to expose your jugular to him proper. He gives a nip, then a suck and a kiss. Your hands ball into fists as you stare at the ceiling and the various blood spatters. It’s the only thing you COULD do. 

He’s marking you, and you can’t do a single damn thing about it. You can feel that where he’s doing it, that cheeky bastard is kissing and licking and sucking the spaces on your neck that’ll be hard to cover up if you don’t use something like a scarf or a turtleneck. Your eyes shut tightly again as you feel his other hand traveling down your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of fire that has your body temperature rising. You’re a whining and pathetic, whimpering mess, and you can’t do a damn thing. 

It didn’t take much to stimulate you, not when it came to Art. He had a way with you, a familiarity with your body that made you ache and yearn for him. He knew what you liked, what you didn’t, knew how to unravel you from the inside out like it was a game, because it was. This was a game, for now, until he decided it wouldn’t be. And you’d hope he’d never have a second thought otherwise. 

The way that his nails drag across your chest, where he could rip out your rapidly beating heart from your chest cavity and devour it whole, it bothers you not. It doesn’t bother you at the notion of how his hand is sliding down to your stomach, that he can rip and yank out your intestines to spill across the floor in front of you. Your eyes shoot open amid the kisses and nips at your neck when you recognize that his hand is slipping into your pants. He’s gone past your undergarments and settled that hand of his right between your thighs, with his middle finger teasingly tapping at your clit. 

You inhale sharply, face twisting as you lurch back in your seat, squirming as he keeps your head in place by your hair. His kisses are trailing down from your neck to your collarbone. Art bites there too, and it stings before it feels awash with the buzz of pleasure that endorphins provide you. He’s dragging it out, testing your patience while he’s sliding his fingers up and down between your thighs when you just want him to get straight to the point and fill you with him, whether it be his dick or his fingers. You ache, you feel empty without him, and he’s got you gritting your teeth, nails digging crescent shapes into your palm from your clenched fists.  

The clown drags his tongue back up your neck, causing you to shiver as the hair on your arms and the back of your neck stand up. Your face twists into something ugly when that hand of his between your thighs presses against you, palm against your clit and his fingers dangerously close to penetrating you. Instead of following through on that, he forces you to grind into his hand, and you do, desperately. 

The heat between your legs only grows, his touch stoking the fire. You know you’re soaking his fingers–you can feel it. When he lets go of your hair once more and you have control again, you move your neck to get a look at him. 

The moment you make eye contact is the moment that he inserts a finger in you. Your jaw drops and you gasp loudly. 

He wanted to see your face the instant that he slipped in, and he’s not disappointed, going so far as to part his lips in the way that you are now, a reflection for you to see of how your own expression appears, like a mirror. Only, he eventually gives you an amused and twisted smile.

“Art…” You get his name out a second time, but once he’s got you set, he’s back at your neck again like some sort of goddamn vampire. This time you expose your throat to him in devoted submission, offering him the opportunity to rip your trachea straight out of you between his teeth if he wanted. Instead, he bites and sucks again. Your neck is going to be so bruised up after all this, you think. He wanted people to know you were his, and his alone. He’s made that quite clear, and that’s not a fact he’s shied away from in the past with you. Hickeys are nothing compared to literal murder he’s done for you as a means of showing those feelings. 

One finger turns to two after a few thrusts, and he stretches you out so good with both fingers. He makes a scissoring motion with his index and middle, taking the time to prepare you for the third one. 

You can only moan.

He’s even taking his time with the pacing, putting his whole hand into it as his fingers move in and out in such a way that, while still satisfying, you wish he’d go faster. You’re not chasing your release–he’s bringing it to you, building you up in such a sickeningly sweet and leisurely way that’s torture, and it’s plain to see on your face. No amount of improvised weapons could make you look as agonized as you are when the eventual third finger goes in and he’s got you whimpering and shaking. The only noise that’s heard in this otherwise silent space is you, the rattling of your metal chains keeping you stuck to this chair, and the sounds of Art’s fingers sliding in and out of you. 

His easy pace begins to transition into a faster one, and you feel the shift that would otherwise have your legs shut if they weren’t forcibly chained open. 

“Fuck…” You whimper. 

The sound of his hand smacking into your thighs is loud, to the point where it’s eventually the only thing in your ears you can really register, and you’re sure it’s the same for him too. 

Your climax is close, and you feel it rising inside you like an ocean tide. Art’s kissing your shoulder again, but you're too lost in the tingling between your legs. It’s hard to think right now—he’s since gone from pulling you up the mountain to pushing you right to the ledge, and now he fully intends on shoving you off.  

You feel your muscles tighten and your toes curl, your breaths becoming sharp as your lips part, jaw slack. He can feel it coming, he can feel the way that your thighs and muscles clench and your body begins to tense up.

You feel as if your soul is about to separate from your body, until there’s a slight jolt of pain, right in the middle space between your shoulder and neck. Warmth and endorphins flood to the source as your eyes open and your head turns, where you see that Art is biting you. 

It’s too late, not even those jaws could seize your soul to put it back into your body as your orgasm wracks throughout you, the initial pain that’s since transformed into pleasure working in tandem with his fingers between your thighs. He did it on purpose, waiting for the perfect moment, and it worked.

Your eyes shut again and behind your lids are fireworks, a collage of colors all at once, and then there’s nothing. You feel light as a feather, and then the steady decline as you feel yourself weighed down by gravity again. It’s enough all at once for your head to slump. 

You need a minute or two to recover. And Art gives it to you. He’s at least that merciful.

As you regain yourself again, you feel his fingers slip out of you, leaving you empty, but satisfied, and when you finally lift your head, he’s licking his fingers, tongue curling around his digits, reveling in the taste of you. He’s looking rather shameless about it too, sucking his fingers like he’s just handled the best dessert. You even see that your blood is on his lips, smeared down his white chin. The muscle between your shoulder and neck has a distinct marking of where his teeth were, along with the unmistakable crimson smudges that you know is your drying blood. The wound is already clotted, impressively enough, your skin is well on its way to knitting itself back to pristine condition as if nothing had ever happened to begin with. In three days tops, it’ll be gone. Pretty impressive, actually.

You can tell he’s smug, even though it might not be direct. It’s there. You know it is. It makes you huff another laugh. You’re not in any pain. You’re fine, fit as a fiddle. 

You have his blessing, after all. 

“Shit,” You mumble, just above a whisper. “That was good. Can you free me?” 

When you expect that he’d oblige your request, Art has a glint in his eye, with a smile to follow through. You thought you were done, but it’s clear you’re not. Your stomach flips again in delight.

He instead heads somewhere out of view behind you, presumably to his bench, but you don’t really know. Was he finally getting the knife out? Was he going to try and scare you? You’re not sure, but you’re ready for anything. He’s trained you well. 

No need to worry about strapping yourself in for the ride, you’re pretty secure as is right now, aren’t you? 

“Remember, the safe word is red,” You remind him, glancing over your shoulder. 

His back is to you when you look behind you. He’s fiddling with something purposefully hidden from your view, but he does give you a glance, and an understanding nod. He knows. 

You look forward again, face turned away from him, and smile to yourself.

The fun was just getting started. 

#art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #art the clown #terrifier 2 #coulrophilia #slasher x you #slasher x reader #minors DNI #18+ fanfic #I think I've read over this thing like 10 times and at this point I'm just hitting the post button #hitting post and turning my head the other direction #I would like to thank the song Hungry by Suzy Wu for accompanying me during this writing #canon x reader

[thousand-sunnies]

i think i would go insane for literally any of the fics u mentioned in the tags of that post??? SEQUEL TO THE BENEFITS OF DRINKING WITH STRANGERS???????? (i read that fic twice in a row the first time) i would love to see the interplay between sanji's ideals/hangups and shimotsuki "i take no bullshit" kuina. sanji offering himself up in the most literal sense to feed someone else. listen the cannabalism as an act of service. help im losing my mind. also i can only imagine the degree of "????????" going through ace's mind every step of the way through a lesson in changing the world. dude im going to be thinking about this Forever. that's not even half of what you've got going through my brain

OH DUDE THIS IS SO NICE OF YOU DHEJDKEKJD I WILL BE USING THIS AS MOTIVATION

benefits is def one of my favourite things i’ve ever written (i LOVE cora SO MUCH) so i really want to write that one! i’m at the very end of the dressrosa arc in the anime by now so im just looking forward to the sengoku scene, because i want to like get the vibes before i write his and rosi’s reunion yknow

the sanji and kuina thing oh my god i have that fic half written, but then i went insane about marineford and temporarily lost the drive, but i still maintain that the concept of it would be SO FUN to explore. kuina and sanji just fundamentally Can’t Get Along with how sanji is in canon, and zoro is in the middle of that particular clash…

CANNIBALISM AS AN ACT OF SERVICE OH MY GOD……. you know. vampire stuff is so normalised in our storytelling that i do not instinctively consider it cannibalism. but holy shit you’re right it fucking is and oh my god hold on there’s something about zeff here- AHEM point is cannibalism as an act of service is always a beloved trope i need to think about this more.

and yes it’s SO funny to imagine how confused ace is throughout a lesson in changing the world, i am Really excited to write that one. there’s a lot of stuff from his pov that the marines wouldn’t know about, like the whole luffy and the prisoners on a warship thing, but especially the thought process he’s going through in the time leading up to his execution and up on the platform is SOOO interesting to think about, so im excited :D

ANYWAY OH MY GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH AND IF YOU THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE PLEASE LET ME KNOW because i always want to yell about my ideas or other people’s ideas!!!!

#and yes cannibalism as an act of service totally rewired my brain in respect to that idea thank you so much for that #i write lighthearted stuff generally and this probably will still be lighthearted but. oh there’s so much potential here i haven’t considere #TYSM AGAIN DUDE SCREENSHOTTING THIS ASK AND KEEPING IT 4EVER

[deepdowninshipperhell]

Bidding for the Fandom Trumps Hate charity auctions is now open, and will remain open until March 9th at 8:00 PM EST.

I am once again participating as an author under the nick IetjeSiobhan, so if you’d like me to write a fic just for you – and support a good cause – this is your option! You can find my FTH entry here.

To get an overview of my writing, you can find my ao3 account here.

What exactly am I offering?

A written work within the Haikyuu fandom, F1 RPF, or an Original Work.

Word count: 5-10k

Max Rating: Explicit (so whether you’d like something G or T rated or something more spicy is up to you – I’m happy to work with you).

What am I especially interested in?: For Haikyuu, I especially enjoy writing Kuroken or any of the Haikyuu girls in any combination. Generally, themes I enjoy include (but are not limited to) Mutual Pining, Secret Relationships, Idiots to Lovers, Fantasy, Shapeshifting, and Omegaverse. I am also happy to write kink content and darker themes, but if you have a very specific theme in mind, it’s probably best to dm me before bidding to ascertain that I’d be a good fit for writing it!

What am I unwilling to write?: I feel uncomfortable writing ships I have not written for before (you can check my ao3 to get an overview). For F1, there might be exceptions to this rule – best dm me if you have something specific in mind! Femslash ships are also generally exempt from this rule. Additionally, I am unwilling to write angst without a happy ending, unrequited love, MCD, and themes of heavy mental illness, such as self-harm and eating disorders.

Other notes: I both enjoy working with very specific prompts, very loose ideas, and anything in-between! If you only have a vague thought, that’s fine for me and I’ll most likely have a lot of fun with it, but if you’d like to be more involved and have a very specific idea, I’d also be delighted about working with that! I generally tend to check in several times during the writing process, even if I don’t have immediate news or anything that requires input, just to let you know how things are progressing!

Which organisations is my auction open to benefitting this year?: Bellingcat *, Civil Rights Education and Enforcement Center *, In Our Own Voice *, Life After Hate, Middle East Children's Alliance *, National Network to End Domestic Violence *, Never Again Action *, Razom *, Sherlock's Homes Foundation *, Violence Policy Center *, Environmental Org: Pollinator Partnership *, Environmental Org: Wildlands Restoration Volunteers, Environmental Org: Coral Restoration Foundation * (*-marked organisations can be donated to internationally)

The Minimum Bid for my auction: $5

If you’re not interested in my works, (or even if you are,) do check out the other great offers this year! The FTH auction was a great joy to participate in last year, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. And hey, have I mentioned yet that it’s for a good cause?

#showvy writes #fandom trumps hate

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

Lone Star Season 4 Thoughts: I love Season 4...mostly

With the prospect of season 5 filming beginning so soon, I've been thinking a lot about season 4 lately. I felt like rambling out some of my thoughts on here.

First, perhaps an unpopular opinion (?) but I love season 4. Sure, it has its flaws, but to me, the good far outweighs the bad. For one thing, I personally don't mind Gabriel's death. It's not what I would have chosen myself if I were writing the finale, and I think it could have benefited from a 3-5 episode arc rather than being squeezed into two already very busy episodes, but I appreciate a lot of what came with it and the potential it provides for season 5. Rafa's acting in the finale was incredible and the aftermath of Gabriel dying resulted in one of my top 10 Tarlos scenes of all time (the scene of them deciding to postpone the wedding at the beginning of 4x18) and one of my top 10 non-Tarlos scenes of all time (the Owen and Carlos scene). Season 4 also gave us the incredible soulmates scene, Lou II, lots of other excellent Tarlos scenes/episodes (4x02, 4x04, 4x08, 4x12, 4x16-18), some new love interests I really liked (Asha, Joe, and Trevor...NOT Kendra), a true showcase of Rafa's talent as an actor along with (finally!) the screen time he deserves, a Marjan storyline that wasn't perfect but had a lot of good stuff to enjoy, and a mention of the Tarlos wedding in every single episode. I enjoyed watching every episode (with the possible exception of 4x03...but even there I can find things to enjoy).

As far as the whole Iris/secret marriage storyline goes, yeah, it's not great. But I can still find a lot to appreciate within it. I love Iris, I love her friendship with Carlos (Rafa and Lyndsy sold me on their friendship with a single hospital scene in 4x03!), and I think it added fascinating elements to Carlos' backstory...like the fact that he was so lost and upset after his family's reaction to his coming out that he married a woman to try to be the man he believed they wanted and needed him to be. For the parts I don't like as much and that--let's face it, don't make much sense--I'm able to look past them or make up head canons to explain them away. (And the talented fic writers of this fandom have done a great service to help that process along...there are many great ones, but particular shout out to Where All This Love Comes From @carlos-in-glasses, which managed to make better sense of Carlos' backstory than I ever imagined possible...if you haven't read it yet, I suggest you do so ASAP). I certainly don't blame anyone who can't do this...that storyline was a mess, I can't deny that! But for me, there's enough to appreciate that it doesn't mess with my enjoyment of the season.

Aside from the secret marriage thing, I think the worst storyline of the season was the Owen/FBI storyline. The sad thing is that this one could have been ok had it been executed better. The biggest issues here were (1) too much Owen off on his own time, which is never good--Owen is at his best when he's in storylines with the other main characters--and (2) they completely failed to stick the landing. BADLY. If you're going to do a white supremacist storyline, you need to commit! Instead, they tried to throw in so many twists that they ended up trying to make us feel sympathy for and see the white supremacist gang members as victims. Yeah, not going to work for me when, in a previous episode, you told us they were literal Nazis! But ultimately I don't really care all that much about a solo Owen storyline to begin with, so it didn't affect my enjoyment of the season as a whole.

All of that said, the thing that irritated me the most about season 4 was the 8 week deadline for the wedding. The ridiculous Lone Star timeline has always been a bit of a thorn in my side, but it really got out of hand in season 4. What bothers me most is the fact that the whole 8 weeks thing is both so completely ridiculous and so completely unnecessary! It is clearly there only to slightly raise the stakes for the first few episodes of the season. It's "Oh no, they have to get married in 8 weeks, which means Carlos has to hurry up and get divorced from Iris to make the deadline, only now Iris has gone missing and she hasn't signed the divorce papers yet so they won't be able to get married!" The exact same thing could have been accomplished with an even slightly more realistic deadline--say 4 months. A 4 month deadline would have still been an incredibly short amount of time to plan a wedding and it would have still required urgency in the divorce process. And yeah, 4 months would have still been a bit unbelievable, but it would have been the ordinary tv show timeline kind of unbelievable, and it would have fit far better with the other markers of time in season 4, like the fact that it's explicitly stated that it's January in the beginning of the season and May at the end.

To make matters worse, the urgency for Iris to sign the papers--once again, the whole reason for the 8 week deadline-- isn't really even addressed after 4x02 because once Iris goes missing, her safety is the main concern. Then, once they wrap that storyline up, it is literally never mentioned again. I spent the entire season waiting for it to become an issue, but it never does. The writers essentially forget about it and spend the entire rest of the season providing dates and stating that amounts of time have passed that add up to way more than 8 weeks. It's just so RIDICULOUS and it means NOTHING!

Ok, whew, got that out. Probably no one is still reading at this point, but if you are, thank you for reading my essay and I love you 💜

#911 lone star #mild complaining #also #lone star timeline discourse #one of my favorite topics!

[taihua]

Beyond "Sort by Kudos": or, how to find new fics to read

This post recently made the rounds with a lot of people weighing in to say that kudos don't make a difference to what they decide to read, but oomf asked a question about how to find more obscure fics, so here are my recommendations! This is not a "how to use AO3" guide (those already exist elsewhere), but some ideas of what to look for when you've exhausted rec lists and the top kudos fics and hundreds of pages of search results remain.

First and most obvious: narrow down the tags! The "Include" and "Exclude" features are super useful for fic searches. Rating: Useful for when you only want dirty filthy smut. Limit the results to Explicit fics only. Or maybe you're weird and don't want explicit fics, so you narrow it down to General Audiences... ??? Categories: checking the "F/F" box can magically change the results from "the lesbian ship is mentioned once in this 200k multichapter fic about male characters" to stories that are actually about the ship you're looking for. Additional Tags: This is where the genre tags live. Sometimes you just really want a modern AU with Hurt/Comfort. Put that good stuff in here. You can also exclude any of these things that you don't want to see, so if you only want G-rated canon universe M/M fluff, exclude everything I mentioned above. You can use all these limitations in tandem with the "sort by kudos" feature to get a fresh list of fics at the top of the results.

Set a range of dates for when fics were posted, and then sort by kudos. I really like this one because it can show you what has been popular recently--the overall top kudos fics generally won't change because they end up there during the fandom's height of popularity or because they're the oldest fics in a fandom, but narrowing it down to the last year or the last 6 months can show you fics that are just as good but didn't benefit from the popularity boost the other fics had. (I know, popularity isn't everything, but kudos can also be a good indication of "lots of people enjoyed this so I might, too" and so it's not a bad place to start) It's also fun to play around with it when you're following a canon with ongoing updates. What was popular before [x was revealed]? What kinds of fan theories existed when the fandom was new?

Bookmarks: If you like a certain author's fics, check to see if they have any public bookmarks, since they probably like fics that are similar to what they write. Or you can see which other readers have bookmarked a fic you like, and check their other bookmarks.

Look for zine and exchange collections. Moderators choosing their zine contributors is a kind of inherent recommendation, and there's generally going to be a process for beta reading and editing to make these fics as polished as possible for publication. Exchanges will also sometimes have mandatory beta reading and minimum word count requirements, which can be a recipe for good fic. And both of these collections will probably have a certain theme to tie them together, which is great if it's a theme you like! It's possible to find challenges by searching for something like "[ship name] exchange" or "[character] zine."

And, because AO3 has a very good search function, you can use a lot of these search functions at the same time--if you want to find the most popular Modern AU zine fic from 2017, you can do that! Changing it up will ensure a fresh set of fics in the results each time you run a search, and setting the filters to all the things you like will improve the results according to your personal tastes too, which will ultimately make the "sort by kudos" element irrelevant.

Happy searching!

#i still like sorting by kudos but not because the kudo is an objective measure of quality #but anyway. these are all ways to make the results fresh even if you keep them in descending kudo order

[prettybirdy979]

Hugfest Fic: Morning Hugs and Pruning Shears

For the Ace Omens Discord Server’s Hugfest 2024. Today’s prompt was ‘A morning/hello hug’. This can also be found on AO3 here

A demonic shiver down his spine is the only warning Aziraphale gets before something runs into his legs. It’s enough though; Crowley’s familiar warning and ‘I’m here, it’s fine’ alert all in one all he needs to suppress his first instinct of… Well. 

It wasn’t a good instinct.

‘Good morning Brother Francis!’ Warlock says from where he’s clutching at Aziraphale’s legs. He looks at the shears in Aziraphale’s hands with wide eyes. ‘Watcha doing?’

‘Pruning, my boy,’ Aziraphale says in Francis’ accent. ‘And what is it you are doing?’

‘A good morning hug,’ Warlock says, craning his neck to see what Aziraphale is doing without releasing his legs. ‘I give one to Nanny every morning and she suggested I give one to you too.’

Aziraphale lifts his glaze to Crowley, who is just far enough away that her pretence of being out of earshot is almost believable. 

The fact that her cheeks have gone a bright red give her away, but she does have the benefit of being able to pretend she didn’t hear.

‘Well then. Shall we do this properly then?’ 

Aziraphale puts his shears down and squats so he’s on Warlock’s level. In the process of this, Warlock lets go and stares at him with wide eyes.

Opening his arms, Aziraphale smiles. ‘Good morning young Master Warlock. Can I give you a good morning hug this fine day?’

Warlock beams and throws himself into Aziraphale’s arms. Aziraphale squeezes the boy, before releasing him.

And then grabbing his wrist before the boy can get too far away. ‘I do need those,’ he says as mildly as possible, taking the shears from Warlock’s hand. ‘It’s always best to ask to borrow something, rather than steal.’

Warlock nods with wide eyes. ‘Can I borrow them?’

‘Perhaps once I’m done,’ Aziraphale replies. ‘Now back to your Nanny with you. I do believe it’s breakfast time.’

With another smile, Warlock races off to his still blushing Nanny full of excitement over the possibilities of the pruning shears. Aziraphale can’t help his fond smile as he watches the Antichrist go.

Good morning hugs. Such a delightful child.

(Later Crowley will claim that she only sent Warlock over to hug Aziraphale as a set up for the theft. Aziraphale will smile and nod, agreeing it was very demonic of her and not mention the blushing at all)

#good omens #Hugfest #Hugfest 2024 #My Scribbles

[jamesunderwater]

do u (or any of ur wonderful writing community) have any advice for someone that has a fic idea that seems likely to be multi chapter but they've never written anything before?

Hi anon!! I'm so honored to have been sent this, and I'm excited to hear what my fellow writers have to say about it! Anyone have thoughts? Tagging a few of you: @mvnvgedmischief @abihastastybeans @athenasparrow @charmsandtealeaves @annabtg @practicecourts

Here's my advice as someone who literally stumbled into their first multi-chap fic:

figure out the ultimate story you're trying to tell. what are the main themes? what is the ultimate point of the story? it's so easy to lose momentum, especially for your first multi-chap. I think it helps a lot to know the "why" of your story so that when you get to the tough chapters, you have a strong reason to push through

create an outline. i know outlines aren't for everyone, but GOD it has been helpful for me. idk where you're at in your idea formulation, but i know in the past my ideas have been like...snatches of scenes, a general concept of the overall story - but it's lacked the specific content of the full story, and that's really tripped me up when it came to writing. with dead to me, i wrote a rough outline for every single chapter, so i knew how i was going to get from a to d to n to z instead of just being like "well, i know what a is. i know what d is. i know what n is. that's enough!" nahhh man you gotta figure out at least roughly what b and c and e anddddd etc. are gonna be too. the outline has changed and lengthened as i went, but honestly, it's still stayed pretty true to the skeleton i created at the start.

my beta reader gave me the suggestion to write out important scenes in the story from throughout it, to help me get a sense of what i needed to happen in between those scenes to get to those points. like for me, the absolute hardest part of a multi-chap so far has been making sure that the characterization stays consistent and makes sense as we go along. esp cause there is so much character development happening, it has to make sense, and that happens a lot in those in-between chapters. so it's good to have a sense of those BIG moments to help yourself stay on track for how you're getting your characters (thematically, character-wise, logistically) to those moments. [i hope that made sense]

find someone to read it over for you/be your beta! it's SOOOO helpful having someone to bounce ideas off of, and if you're completely new to writing, i'm guessing you might benefit from having just a general editor to point out grammatical things or ways the writing could be clearer.

be nice to yourself, take it slow if you need to. everyone handles posting differently - some people like to write the whole fic first, some people (like me) prefer to go chapter by chapter because having people comment and be reading along with it gives you momentum to finish. but i would say, if you are going to go with that second option, consider writing a good bit of the story before posting the first chapter. like give yourself some time to write until you get stuck - that will help you find some of the kinks in the story, figure out how to navigate there being holes in the narrative, maybe tighten up your outline, etc. and also gives you time to get the chapters edited by someone.

okay that's a LOT of practical advice, i hope you find it helpful <3 otherwise i'd just say, it's REALLY fucking exciting to be writing your first multi-chap, AND to be starting to write at all!!! have fun with it, get lost in the excitement, let yourself really enjoy your characters and the world YOU'RE developing. it's so fucking cool to be a writer!!! and all of the stuff i mentioned is part of being a writer, so like...soak it up?? and know that you DON'T have to do it perfectly to be a writer, or to enjoy the process. it's your first time writing and first time doing a multi-chap - literally all of this is an opportunity to learn and also have fun, so I hope you do that and don't get too caught up in the weight of feeling like you have to finish it in x amount of time or that it has to be perfect.

you're so cool for doing this!! and i hope that in some way you share your work with me/this community, cause I would love to see it and be cheering you on <3 i'm cheering you on regardless though!!!!!

#being a writer is the Coolest Thing Ever #good for you for starting!!!! #<3333 #lovely anons #charlie mail #writing

[captain-is-king]

After the Supernova Chapter 2

Link to Ao3 Here

Look, if I was Nova I would need to do a lot of yelling and crying to process everything that happened. And I like the idea of after everything Nova actually WANTING to sleep. Like she's mentioned in the books before that she wished she could be unconscious for 8 hours like everyone else. And I feel like after the couple days she's had, that would be more true than ever.

I also really want to (eventually, later this fic) write a scene (or a few) where it's Max, Adrian, Hugh, Simon, and Nova cooking together in the kitchen. Just the sheer domesticity of it makes my chest hurt. Maybe Simon lets Max wear his stupid black and white checkered apron. Maybe they actually move the superhero stuff down the hall and the food into the closet in the kitchen. MAYBE THEY ALL MAKE LUMPIA TOGETHER. Or they surprise Nova with it! Either way! All of the above! Anyway, uh, I'll write that at some point.

Also, Simon and Hugh can't replace the family Nova had with the Anarchists, but I do think they can add to it. Like Nova will still have Leroy and Winston. When, in this chapter, Nova is upset about the Anarchists I don't think she's necessarily talking about Leroy. Leroy was the only one who ever suggested that Nova NOT be an Anarchist. He gave her that out in BOOK ONE. And I thought that was a really interesting distinction from all of the other Anarchists.

Like we all saw Ingrid using Nova to get back at the Renegades. I never suspected that Honey would turn out like that, but in retrospect it isn't entirely surprising. Like Honey told Nova how to flirt with Adrian but looking back on it, I don't know that it was ever for Nova's benefit. I think the expectation was ALWAYS that she would betray Adrian and everyone else in the end.

And I don't think Leroy was perfect because he did go along with Honey to change the plan at the arena to rescue Ace and obviously they've all made a lot of mistakes. But I don't think he ever would've pushed back if Nova said "No don't chemically burn my fingerprints off" or "I will take you up on the offer to go make a better life for myself." And I FULLY plan to address that later in this fic. I have so many ideas, y'all.

Also, I LOVE the idea from @honey-harper-official (I don't have the link, sorry!!) that Winston basically sabotaged the plan to kill the Renegades at the parade. Like that is canon to me. I really really like the arc that Winston went through and he was one of my favorite characters from book one because he clearly actually cared about Nova?? He could've betrayed her to make things better for himself but he didn't. I don't even think he really considered betraying her.

And I can't have him be dead in this fic because I NEED him and Nova to actually talk. And I need Nova to have someone from her childhood who fully didn't emotionally abuse her or see her as a pawn or a tool to regain power. I think, narratively, Winston dying didn't add much except the reconciliation with Nova, and if I go back and retroactively say that a (magical prodigy) healer actually got to him soon enough (even though Nova thought he was dead dead), I don't think it takes anything away from the story.

Anyway an excerpt from Chapter 2 under the cut :)

“So, Dad and Pops said probably won’t be back here tonight since they’re trying to get ahead of…whatever happened at the cathedral,” said Adrian, “But, there’s four empty guest rooms in the house, so you guys can have your pick.”

Nova considered briefly whether it would be inappropriate to ask which rooms were where the murders had taken place, but she thought better of mentioning it in front of Max and instead said, “I was actually hoping to take a shower. It’s…been a long day.”

“Oh, right. Do you just want to use my bathroom downstairs? I don’t think any of the guest bathrooms have, well, anything in them. There are a couple extra towels down there, though, and soap and whatever else you need. Or I could draw something, I guess. If you want.”

“I’m going to choose my room!” Max said, already halfway up the stairs. “But I need to know which ones might have ghosts, first.”

Nova could use Adrian’s bathroom. She didn’t know why she had made a big deal of it anyway. It felt strangely intimate, but so did all of this. Staying here, imposing on their family. 

“I’ll find what I need,” she said. “It sounds like you have to give the official tour.”

He shot her a grateful smile, and bounded up the stairs after Max.

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to remember which of the dozen doors on the first floor led to the basement. She made her way down the stairs, remembering the last time she was here. The entire house had smelled like cinnamon, and Adrian had shown her the dream she told him about. He drew her a jungle, and birds, and headphones, and she had fallen asleep for the first time in ten years. 

Part of her wanted to see the studio again, but she knew nothing would be left. It all would’ve vanished when Adrian neutralized his own powers. So instead, she opened the door to the bathroom and peeled off her sweaty, dirty clothes while the water ran.

When she stepped under the water, Nova realized it was actually hot. Since the Anarchists had moved to the subway station on the Day of Triumph, hot water had been a rare luxury. Even at the row house, the water had been tepid, at best. 

As she stood there, the water running in rivulets down her body and the heat melting the tension in her muscles, she couldn’t help but begin to think, again, that she didn’t deserve this. 

She might as well have been the one to kill those people in the arena. To kill Callum and Winston, and who knew who else. She was the one who helped the Anarchists and the Rejects get inside. She had given Ace his helmet. 

And here she was, as though she were any other house guest in the mansion where Ace himself had slaughtered a family only a decade prior. 

How could Simon and Hugh let her into their home? How could Max joke with her and Adrian as if nothing was different? How could anyone think she deserved any help or affection after everything she had done? Everything she had not done. All for the benefit of a lie she had believed for ten years.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. 

#renegades trilogy #nova artino #winston pratt #adrian everhart #max everhart #leroy flinn #hugh everhart #simon westwood #supernova #after the supernova

[according2thelore]

"you're pretty when you don't speak" + 1, 3, 9, 11 & 13

(i really, really adore this fic, it was one of the first ones i read coming back into fandom after ten years and it knocked me on my ass. i think about it a *lot*)

hello! :)

thank you so much!!! the link to "you're pretty when you don't speak" on ao3 is here! (quick recap: it's the one from blurry wife pov)

1.What inspired you to write the fic this way?

so for this fic, i feared that the second person pov would automatically disqualify it to some folks, but i really thought the fic would benefit from it because so much of sam's anonymous wife is just that: anonymous. she is literally just a vehicle through which to give sam his happy ending, a non-player.

to forcefully give her a perspective, and to force the reader into her headspace was important to me, because so much of her life is completely isolated, even if sam tells her about the life. she is the crucible in which another dean is created, and doesn't even get a face with which to do it.

and i wanted this fic to feel kind of like a montage. things happen too fast to process, and just kind of slip by, like water through your hands, or switching locations in a dream. she isn't given time to process or understand things, and neither are we.

3. What's your favorite line of narration?

yikes! this was hard. i think my favorite line has to be

He smiles at you, and you smile back. He’s nice to look at, in the way that shards of stained glass are nice to look at. In the way that car crashes are captivating, in the way that a tree can be both dead and alive at once, in the way that homes disappear one room at a time.

because it really encapsulates what i feel like sam would be post-canon--eldritch and unknowable, even as he's amicable and has that patina of sympathetic understanding; or

This is my wife, Sam says, proud. His coworkers smile, but they never ask your name. You don’t have one. That’s alright with you, as long as it’s alright with Sam. You’d hate to embarrass him at a work party.

because it's kind of a fic thesis! sam wants a wife, so he gets A Wife. her lack of identity is an issue because it could embarrass sam, not because she is a person. she needs permission to have a name and to have a face and to have her own personality.

9. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

this fic was originally longer! i had a few sections added in about what rituals/traditions sam has on dean's death anniversary as opposed to their wedding anniversary, and how that impacts his family. i also had a section about how sam begins putting an escalated emotional burden on dean jr, creating a cycle w how dean was treated by john, but ultimately introducing those ideas was too bulky and took away from sam's wife. i was doing what sam's wife was doing! centering him in a story about her! so i ended up killing a few darlings for this fic.

11. What do you like best about this fic?

i really enjoyed writing this one! it happened almost entirely in one sitting. one of my favorite things about this fic is how destabilizing it is. you kind of feel a sense of impending dread, and you want the wife to leave, to escape, but she can't. she is a fixed part of his narrative, and that is her identity. she is a prop; she is set dressing.

that confusion of wanting things but those things being malleable was awesome to write, and i hope i captured the dissonance well!

13. What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

i was actually listing to Unknown/Nth by Hozier when i got the idea for the fic (unrelated by now inextricably linked), so that def needs to be mentioned! i listened to charlotte's and my playlist on shuffle while writing this one, and so a few that really stuck in my brain and i recommend are City of Roses by Sufjan Stephens, Savior Complex by Phoebe Bridgers, Too Close by Sir Chloe (the title!), and doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine. (just realized how relentlessly indie it is, sorry team)

i ended up YAPPING! i'm sorry! but thank you for the ask, and i am so glad and warmed to know that you like it! it's one of my favorites, for sure <3

-lizzy

(send me one of my fics, and i'll answer some questions!)

#ask box #ask game #lizzy answers #devilyouwere

[jamiesfootball]

hey i hope you’re doing okay and i’m so so excited for your fics!!! if you’re still open to random asks and/or carrots, i’m curious about your editing process - e.g. what does /43 mean?

and if there is a snippet you feel comfortable sharing from the jamie 5 + 1 pavlovian fic, i would love to read it as i just already adore everything about it (but pls no pressure!)

have a great day :)

Hullo. I am always up for asks and carrots.

My editing process at the moment is a thing born of necessity and self-consciousness (on account of me being more than a bit out of practice). So there are two prongs of edits I'm working with right now:

Print it and read it. This is where I physically print the thing and make notes. I'm quite visual and like to be able to see 2-3 pages at a time. This gives me a better sense of pacing, and lets me take notes as if I were writing a report. Plus it helps to see things in a different layout to catch typos. Plus I can scribble in the margins without committing to putting a thought somewhere.

Listen to it. I make the robot voice read it to me. This has the benefit of it being a stupid robot that won't autocorrect a typo, so it's especially good for catching typos. Also a neat thing I've discovered - if your sentences are repetitive it will sound more like a robot. The more fluid the pacing, the less the robot sounds like a robot.

The /43 was page numbers. So I was on page #/43. That is Chapter 1 of the Post-season fic. Right now it is on 43/43, but with the caveat of there's a few bits that I'm still not happy with so I'm waiting a few days to see if I like them again.

Thank you for your lovely question! Here's a snippet:

An hour after dropping his boots into the fire and his hands were still shaking, shoved into his pockets like a dirty secret. It was maddening. All he'd done was mention his dad. It wasn't like he was actually scared his old man would jump out of the shadows. In the middle of the pitch. In Richmond. He'd never know that Jamie'd said anything about him. His hands just didn't believe him.

#ask box is always open #wippets #the 5+1 sleepy jamie pavlovian fic #writing update #jamie tartt