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ash5monster01 · 1 year ago

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hii could i request a neil perry smut, similar to the charlie one. With a Taylor Swift song!! Love your work🤍🤍

New Romantics

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, lust, sexual attraction, smut, mentions of nudity, oral, p in v, first time, fluff

Summary: Neil Perry falls for you out of no where. In his minor crisis over his feelings for you, you find yourself feeling the exact same about him. After all a forbidden romance was far more interesting than the boring life you both had stuck in Welton.

a/n: I’m so sorry I absolutely got carried away with this but sweet precious little Neil and Taylor Swift. It’s genius.

word count: 5,234

Masterlist

Neil Perry didn’t really care about girls. That didn’t mean he wasn’t attracted to them, of course he was. He just had far more important things to focus on than obsessing over a girl and her looks. That also wasn’t to say he didn’t care about those things either. Hell he had seen plenty of naked girls from the magazines Charlie stole from his father. He just never had in person and he was okay with that. He had things to focus on like school and pleasing his Dad. If he obsessed over girls like Charlie or Knox did he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the important stuff. At least that was what he thought until he saw you.

Neil had never been bothered by girls attending Welton like the other boys had. He’d rather them be comfortable and not distracting while he was here. Guys like Hopkins were the ones that couldn’t leave them alone. That was how he had ended up spotting you. Hopkins was leaning over you, hand pressed into the wall, his free arm trying to snake its way around your waist. Your heel came down so hard into the boys foot Neil actually heard him whimper.

“I told you to leave me alone!” you seethed, Neil’s eyes lifting to see your long hair swinging violently in your pony tail, bright eyes wide, nostrils flared. His heart stopped. You were damn near the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He was so distracted by the hills of your lips, imagining them pillowy soft against his own, he didn’t even notice you were now looking at him. A look in your eyes that could kill with your hands planted tightly on your hips.

“You want a go?” you asked, narrowed eyes and bright teeth shining behind your perfect red lips. Neil visibly gulped before shaking his head, clutching his books to his chest. You scared him. Yet not in the way you should. You scared him because for the first time in his life he found himself unable to deny his attraction.

“No, no. I uh, no” your head tipped back, the roll of your eyes so heavy he swore they almost disappeared. He wished your head would tip back like that looking up at him, touching him, taking care of him. The thought made his heart constrict in his chest, because he had never thought that about a girl before. It was as if he couldn't stop it, there was just something about you that made his skin tingle with anticipation. He had never had that before.

“Whatever Perry, find something else to entertain you” you scolded, briskly walking past him, shoulder brushing against his own. Unable to avoid it, another thought of you laying underneath him, with that fiery look appeared, and he actually had to close his eyes to shake the thought away.

So Neil spent the better part of the entire week trying to chase away thoughts of you. It was exactly what he had been afraid of. All consuming, distracting thoughts that he couldn’t seem to make go away. He had zoned out through three entire lectures before realizing he had a serious problem on his hands. He needed a way to get you out of his system and fast. Yet every time he was close to getting himself to stop he realized having thoughts and feelings for you was the most exciting thing to happen all year. The most exciting thing to ever happen in this school actually. At least since Keating had started teaching.

“Hey Neil, do you have the latin notes?” Charlie asked from Neil’s bed, surrounded by homework he was behind on. He preferred to catch up on it in the presence of his best friend rather than Cameron. Charlie didn't need a lecture about trying better at school from any one other than his father. Cameron had a habit of acting a lot like his Dad.

“Um, no actually” Neil gave him a sheepish look, long finger pushing the wired glasses up his nose.

“What do you mean no? You take notes even when Cameron helps us with math” Charlie sat up, confusion flooding his entire face. He just expected Neil to throw the notes over, he had never said no before.

“I was distracted” Neil shrugged, unsure how to properly explain himself.

“Something is up with you, you’ve been acting weird all week” Charlie shook his head, trying to read what was going on in Neil's head. Thing was it was usually Neil having to tell him what to do, not the other way around. As Charlie sat there trying to figure it out Neil felt the answer bubbling in his chest, ready to jump out at any moment. “What is going on?”

“Y/N” Neil blurted, nerves making his skin feel like it was on fire under the stare of his longest and oldest friend. The minute the name left his mouth he winced and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch Charlie as he processed this random response.

“Y/N? Like the Y/N in our latin class that tells Mcallister to eat it when she forgets her homework?” Neil opened his eyes and nodded, embarrassment covering his cheeks in a bright red.

“Since when do you even talk to her?” Charlie asked, arms crossing over his chest as an amused look covered his face. Neil never talked about girls, so this was a first.

“I don’t, but I can’t get her out of my head” Neil groaned as he gripped at his hair, more dirty images of the girl flashing through his mind. He needed help and as soon as he could get it.

“No way, Neil has a crush” Charlie snickered and that’s when Neil dropped his head on his desk, a defeated grunt escaping his lips.

“That’s the thing, it’s not just a crush” now that peaked Charlie’s interest, his best friend getting all squeamish about a girl was bound to be interesting.

“Not just a crush?” Charlie asked, eyebrows high in amusement. This was pure entertainment for Charlie, Neil embarrassed about a girl. Normally it was Neil being embarassed when Charlie said gross things about a girl.

“I can’t stop thinking about her. I watched her stomp on Hopkins foot and next thing I know I'm thinking about kissing her and..... other things" Charlie laughed loudly, eyes crinkling shut because for the first time it wasn't just him getting all hot and bothered over a girl. Hell it was Neil of all people.

"Wow, I did not expect this" Charlie said once he had finally calmed down, still amused over the predicament his friend was in.

"Stop laughing man, I need your help. I don't know what to do and if my grades slip because of this my Dad will kill me" Neil pleaded, not enjoying his friends amusement one bit. Charlie had been fighting attraction his whole life, Neil had never found anything worth it to be attracted to. At least until now.

"Look there's only one way to get rid of an itch, and that's to scratch it" Neil furrowed his eyebrows, confusion covering his face.

"I don't think that's true, actually the worst thing for an itch is to scratch it" Charlie rolled his eyes at his friends literalness and shook his head.

"Not that kind of itch, look you're not gonna stop thinking about her until you at least talk to her. Even better way to scratch it is to do all the things you're thinking about but let's start with baby steps" Charlie told him and Neil somehow turned even redder, the idea of even acting on his thoughts embarassment enough.

"Fine, I'll talk to her but that is it"

Welton sucked. Truly since the moment you had been here. The last thing you needed was to be harrassed by boys who had gone here so long without girls they'd have no idea how to act when one finally showed up. Yet your parents made you anyway the minute it became co-ed and it was exactly like you had predicted. Almost every boy in the school harrassed you, sexualized you, made slimy comments, and out right direspected you. A small part of you sympathized with them not being taught but at the same time you didn't feel the need to deal with it. It wasn't your job to make them decent human beings, it was their mothers, and all their mothers abandoned them here. So all you could do was put them in their place when they tried to mess with you. You had yet to meet a Welton boy that respected you.

You liked to pretend it didn't bother you but it did. You hadn't really gotten close to the other girls and all the boys ever did was tear you down. Everyone in this school was too bored and tired of everything. All they could do is mess with each other while they all waited for their escape. Especially you, waiting for that train you knew would never come. Didn't matter anyway, your parents were no better than this no good school. So all you could do was watch as they all flirted with each other, disgusting displays of undeceny, practically wearing scarlett letters like the Nathaniel Hawthorne book. Little did they know yours was better, you just hadn't bothered to show it.

Being young it was easy to play innocent, like being in this school wasn't putting you on the road to ruin. So everyone in this school could play dumb but they all knew what being here meant. It meant saying goodbye to the finer things in life, accepting a life of successful educational pursuits, with no passion for life behind it. So you continued to listen to girls cry in the bathroom at night and see the distraught faces of the boys when they realize now that their on this train they will never be abe to get off. Too focused on the progressive classrooms without realizing living their life held the best lesson for them. You hoped Keating would help them realize that, before it was too late at least. So that was what you thought about once English class had ended, the teacher yet again surprising the students in the classroom.

"Y/N?" turning you spotted Neil Perry, the dreamy dough eyed boy that sat two seats behind you. You had yelled at him last week, you hadn't meant to but people like Hopkins made you so mad anyone that happened to be in the cross fire could end up burned too.

"Hey Neil" you smiled lightly at him, hoping you wouldn't have to add another boy to the list of Welton imbeciles.

"Hey, uhm. I uh-. Could you-?" you watched as he stumbled over his words, eyes darting around your face, looking anywhere but your eyes. You realized he was nervous and he was also trying his best not to disrespect you. That was new.

"Take a breath Perry, I promise I'm not going to stomp on your foot" you chuckled, hand gripping his shoulder to ease the tension slighty. Finally his eyes met yours and they held so much adoration you swore your heart melted on the spot.

"I was wondering if you had the latin notes?" your eyebrows furrowed, surprised he was asking about notes. Especially since he was friends with Meeks who was top of the class. He spotted your confused face and the panic set in again.

"I mean yeah, but isn't Steven always on top of that stuff?" you asked as you began to dig through your bag, looking for the notebook.

"Yeah which is exactly why I don't want him to know I've been forgetting to take notes" at this you laughed lightly and Neil swore his heart stopped. He had made you laugh, Charlie was right. So far this conversation had already done so much for Neil, when all at the same time it was making his feelings for you absoltuley so much worse.

"Has something been on your mind?" you found yourself asking as you finally found the notebook and moved to hand it to him. Neil gulped nervously and chuckled.

"Uh, I guess you could say that" he said, adding the notebok to his mountain high of textbooks. "Thank you for this, and also I thought Hopkins deserved it just so you know. That's not how you treat a lady, especially you"

"I'm nothing too special, but thanks" you smiled softly at him, not expecting this. All the boys you had run into this year had been so vile. Who would've thought Neil Perry was a sweet heart.

"You're everything Y/N" Neil told you, stare hard as if the look itself could convince you of your worth. Your skin instantly started to crawl, your neck heating up, because damnit Neil Perry was cute and he just said you were everything.

"Would you want to study for latin together? My roomate goes to the library every night from six to seven so we could then" you found yourself saying, unsure why you had seemed to cave. You swore you weren't going to allow Welton boys in but you forgot how real gentlemen had acted and Neil was starting to take your breath away.

"In the girl dorms?" the color seemed to suddenly drain from his face and you snickered, the way he was so shy making you gigle like a young school girl. After all it was what you were but so many of the rude boys and vicous girls had thrown bricks at your cool and innocent structure. Hell you could build a castle from how many they had thrown at you. Yet, even if every day at this school was a battle maybe a night with Neil Perry could be a dream.

"Yes, Mrs Leonard reads in her room around that time. You won't get caught, promise" you told him, assuring him that the hall monitor wouldn't be on duty if he stopped by. Neil suddenly found himself nodding, the idea of seeing where you sleep every night, where you change, sending him into over drive.

"Okay, uh, sounds good. I'll see you then" you smiled softly before nodding and leaving him behind, a smirking Keating from his desk staring the young boy down.

"Should I be worried?" he teased and Neil shook his head, the tips of his ears red.

"No, we're just friends" Neil lied, right through his teeth, and Keating just laughed.

"My boy, you don't look at friends like that" Neil nodded, a blush permanently etched across his face as he rushed to tell Charlie because the only way he would survive the night was learning the expertise of someone who was a master at sneaking onto the girls dorm floor.

If you were being honest you half expected Neil to not show up. He wasn’t really known around the school to cause trouble. So when he showed up at your door, 6 o’clock on the dot, your heart fluttered. He had rid himself of his formal school uniform, now in sweat pants and a white t-shirt that he had covered in a long sleeve flannel to keep warm. The way he looked warmed you over as well.

“You came?” you found yourself saying out loud, stepping out of the way for him to slip easily into the room.

“Yeah, I wanted to spend time with you” Neil told you, honesty dripping from his tongue like honey. You watched as his eyes scanned your room, taking in the differences, and possibly the similarities to his own. Then his eyes landed on you and it wasn’t hard to miss the way they had darkened.

Neil almost rubbed his eyes because he had pictured you in a silk night set hundreds of times. It was how most of his fantasies would start. Now here you were in front of him, a silk red set laying softly against your skin. Long legs bare and for him to see. Maybe he was day dreaming again. Surely this couldn’t be real? He was going insane and he was going to start losing it. First his grades then he won’t be sure what planet he is even on.

“I didn’t take you for the sneaking around type?” you finally said, surprised goodie two shoes Neil had not only snuck away from his dorm floor but snuck his way onto yours.

"I'm not, but lately I've learned some risks are worth taking" Neil told you, hard stare set on you. You weren't one to fall easily into guys but for some reason the way Neil looked at you made your skin crawl. You allowed his stare to wash over you, refresh you, and for the first time you allowed yourself to think it was possible to be something with Neil Perry. After all you could be the new romantics and even though heart break was a national anthem you both could sing it proudly. Neil was a reminder that the best people in life are free.

"Um, here are your notes" Neil finally spoke into the silence, nervously gulping as he returned the notebook. It was damn near impossible to copy the notes when thoughts of tonight seeped into his mind, doing things in your dorm bed that no dorm bed should ever see. The minute he would get his focus back he would stumble upon some hearts you doodled and it would start the process all over again. He wished he could get every single heart tattooed on his body.

"Oh perfect! I'm glad I could help" you told him, taking this notes and turning to set them on your desk. You used this moment to catch your breath, no longer looking at Neil Perry like something you wanted to corrupt. Yet that was exactly how he was looking at you because the red fabric covering the curve of your ass was making him want to bite it like an apple, any taste of you willing to soothe his internal war of lusting after you. He was so distracted he hadn't even noticed you had turned back around and had caught him practically drooling over you.

Quickly his eyes snapped up to yours, unable to read your face. He waited for any type of reaction, more than likely one similiar to when you bruised the hell out of Hopkins foot but instead you just sat there, staring back him giving no clue as to what you were thinking. Little did he know this was poker and you were about to play your ace. When you're a teenager you are too busy dancing to get knocked off your feet but afterall you need love and all you want is danger. A forbidden romance could be exactly that. You knew starting something with him the rumors would spread like wildfire but the thing about rumors is even if they were terrible and cruel most of them were true. So what would it matter if they had one more brick to throw at you. Neil still didn't have a single clue as to what was happening as you took a step closer to him.

"I can leave, I didn't mean to upset-" Neil froze as you held up a hand to stop his apology. For the first time since you had a caught him a smile broke across your face.

"Please stay" you told him, your eyes now practically begging for the boy who had been falling apart for you all week. Neil's shoulders relaxed as he nodded, a soft smile on his face as he realized you were looking at him like he looked at you.

"Okay" he told you and before he could process what was happening next your arms were flinging around his neck, mouth sealing against his own. Eyes wide and unsure hands quickly turned into holding onto you like at any moment you would disappear and this wouldn't be real. Your lips were as soft as he imagined, you tasted sweet like sugar, and now that you were so close he could smell your shampoo. His senses were trying to take it all in, commit it to memory, because until now it was just what he had imagined and now you were pressed against him, mouth hot against his own and chest pressed tightly against his. You weren't wearing a bra, he had noticed immediately and now he wasn't sure he would survive this. Surivve you.

"Is this okay?" you asked as you pulled away, panting to catch your breath but Neil didn't answer because now that he had a taste he couldn't stop. His lips were now trailing down your neck, your perfume clinging to him, and he vowed to never wash it away. Charlie was right about scratching that itch but he needed it fully taken care of. One kiss would not solve over a weeks worth of painful pent up sexual feelings for you.

You read his message loud and clear and as his lips continued to taste every visible inch of skin your hands were pushing the flannel off of his shoulders. The fabric dropped to the floor and now your fingers were curling under the hem of his white t-shirt and he only removed himself from you for a second to allow you to remove it completely. Your head fell back in a gasp as his cool hands slipped underneath your own shirt, pressing softly into the flesh of your back, and impossibly closer to him. You had planned on studying, truly, but now that he was flush against you, his length against your stomach you realized you might never think of latin ever again.

"Take it off" you whispered in his ear and he finally detached himself from your neck, careful to not leave any marks. His eyes searched yours for any uncertainty but you didn't seem uncertain at all so he didnt hesitate to grip the red fabric and pull it over your head, lifting your hair with it. His eyes dropped instantly, taking in your bare form, hair swooshing down, and making you look like an angel. He realized none of Charlie's dirty magazines could never ever compare to the real thing. To you.

You realized his nerves and slowly grabbed his hands in your own. You gave him a reasurring smile as you lifted them, placing them directly on your chest. Nervously his hands cupped around your breasts, squeezing softly as he determined exactly what it felt like. He didn't want to hurt you after all. Your head tipped back at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth and he realized he much preferred that one over Hopkins. As if his body was on auto pilot his mouth moved to cover your own, to swallow your whimper, and sear it into his heart forever.

Your hands fell up one his shoulders, guiding him towards your dorm bed. Neil’s hands only left your chest when the back of his knees met the edge of your bed and he fell down into it. Propping himself up on his elbows he watched as you shimmied out of the silk shorts, leaving you in a white pair of underwear, a small bow right in the center. His eyes locked onto it like a missile to its target as you lifted yourself to straddle his lap. Neil fell back in the sheets, groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fuck, there is no way this is real right now” he spoke his thoughts out loud and you giggled lightly, leaning down so your face was hovering right over his.

“You treat me like I’m worth something Neil Perry, because of that I have no issue allowing myself to feel things for you” you whispered to him, wanting him to know that in this shit show of a school at least there was one other kindred spirit just like his.

“You should know you’re the only person I’ve felt things for ever” he told you in return and you smiled before sweetly kissing him, something you planned on doing for as long as you could.

You deepened the kiss once Neil’s hands gripped your waist, planting you firmly above his erection and trying desperately to not rut into you like a needy dog. Yet he was failing miserably because he could feel you everywhere and the sensation of your bare chest against his own was about to become much better. His thoughts were halted when your fingers curled into his waist band, head pulling away from his own as your eyes flashed to his bare torso. He looked at you pleadingly, begging you to do anything, so you stood up, tugging the sweatpants down along with his plaid boxers.

Never would you have guessed Neil Perry would be naked in your dorm bed yet here he was, in all his glory, clearly doing everything he could to last. Which he wasn’t going to much longer because now your were on your knees, delicate fingers tracing along the vein on the underside of his cock. The image more perfect than the first time he imagined it, the first time he had imagined you. “I’m gonna take care of you”

And then your tongue was licking a long stripe from the base of his dick to the very top. Your lips closing around to give it a soft kiss and Neil felt tears beginning to fill his eyes, a desperate mess and so needy for you. The effect you had was dangerous and he was done for, officially. He should just drop out. Then he couldn’t think of that any longer as your mouth finally closed around him, taking as much as you could. He rutted against the back of your throat, your hands palming his balls and he felt himself begin to tremble. You only smirked at the reaction, sucking him for all he was worth.

“I’m not, I’m not gonna make it” he stuttered out but before he could succumb to his needs you were releasing him with a pop, a small smirk on your face as he lost his orgasm. You felt only a little guilty as he looked at you so wounded.

“Don’t worry baby, I want us to finish together” you told him, now standing as you slid your panties down your legs. Neil cursed himself for hardening quickly again at the sight. You sucked in a sharp breath as the cool air met with the wetness of your core and before you could straddle Neil again he was sitting up and gripping your hips, fingers digging softly into the flesh of your ass.

“Could I-, could I taste you?” he nervously asked and you smiled at his shyness before nodding. Neil stood, allowing you his place on the bed where you allowed yourself to relax. “This is my first time”

“I’ll teach you” you encouraged and he nodded, now dropping to his knees himself. You had been so worked up that when he finally dared to run a finger through your folds you were tightening around nothing. Neil took a moment to explore, really see what it all looked like, a curious thumb pressing to your clit. When he heard you take a sharp rush of air in he looked up alarmed and you just chuckled.

“That’s the sweet spot handsome” you explained and he took this information in as he continued to look. In a daring moment Neil leaned forward, tongue dragging through your folds before pressing firmly on your clit again. He was shocked to find how good you tasted, not expecting it to be like this. The moment he realized how much you liked it he dug in like it was his last meal. Savoring it and hoping to keep your taste on his tongue the rest of the night.

Neil was a fast learner. After only a few more tips and adjusting his position he had you wreathing beneath him, you fingers practically trying to rip the hair out of his head. You could feel him rutting against the side of the bed and the minute you felt your stomach begin to tighten you pushed him back, panting out heavy breaths. “I need you inside of me right now”

Neil blushed and you leaned over to dig for the one condom you had come to Welton with. You had never planned on using it and now you realized you needed to figure out how to get more. You sat up and rolled the condom on for him before moving to lay on the bed the correct way. Neil followed your lead and settled himself between your legs, dragging the tip through your folds. You moved to put your own hand down there, lining him up before nodding at him. He pushed in slowly, his length stretching you sweetly.

Neil realized no day dreaming could compare to the sight of you naked underneath him and the way your warmness enveloped him inside of you. Once he was fully inside he couldn’t stop himself from dropping his head down and sucking your nipple into his mouth. You hissed at the pleasure it gave you, realizing he had gotten more comfortable during all of this. Slowly he started to move inside you, sucking so hard at each breast you realized he was leaving them covered in hickeys. You grabbed his head, pulling it up to kiss his mouth as he begun to hit the sweet spot inside of you.

Of course he couldn’t seem to leave your breasts alone, hands finding them as he kissed like you were his and he was going to keep it that way. Soon enough he was pounding into you like his life depended on it, you prayed the other girls couldn’t hear the bed squeaking or your moans. You wished you could let out the pornagraphic sounds you were holding back to avoid getting caught.

You felt your stomach begin to tighten again and Neil could feel you clenching around him. His thrusts began to get sloppy and in a moment of courage he took his hand and behind to rub your clit just like he learned and you were milking him for all he was worth in seconds. Neil allowed himself to finish as well, practically falling on top of you as he collapsed, the euphoric feeling making him dizzy.

“I guess even though we didn’t study you at least learned something” you said, pressing small kisses into the side of his neck. Neil chuckled lightly, lifting himself up to look in your eyes.

“I hope you know this wasn’t my intention. I mean I’d thought about it but I was at least hoping to take you on a date first” it was your turn to giggle and you pulled him down to give him a quick kiss.

“I know, that’s why I let you do it” you told him and he smiled, leaning back down, and hugging you close.

“I plan on keeping you” he whispered into your skin and you smiled, a hand running through his hair, him still inside of you, and warming your heart for the first time all year.

“Baby we’re the new romantics”

1K notes · View notes

inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 7 months ago

Text

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 7: Tell Me That I Won't Feel A Thing]

A/N: Hello besties! Thank you for voting in the poll for Chapter 7. Below are your predictions...let's see how you did! 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is back yay!!!

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Give Me Novacaine” by Green Day.

Word count: 9.6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Billboards ask you as the Tahoe flies across the flat emerald sea of Iowa: Have you heard the good news? Have you been saved? Where will you spend eternity? Are you struggling with same-sex attraction? Do you regret your abortion? Do you fear the Lord? Do you want to end up in Hell?

Aegon snickers, gnawing on a Slim Jim. The sun glare turns his wild hair to gold, etches crinkles into the ruddy skin around his eyes, murky like deep water, oceans you recognize from other corners of the world. “I thought I was already there.”

Jace’s Honda Rebel 300 is left on the shoulder of the highway with its fuel tank uncapped, drained to feed the Tahoe, prehistoric combustion, bottomless mechanical hunger. Rhaena takes over driving so Baela can sit with Jace, touch him, inhale him, convince herself he’s real. Aegon climbs into the passenger’s seat and skips songs on the CD player until he finds the one he wants: In Da Club by 50 Cent. The miles roll by so soft and so infinite that you can’t imagine ever feeling trapped again, warm July air unfurling down the darkest corridors of your lungs, hawks on lifeless power lines and fields dappled with white-tailed deer. And you think: Everything will be better now.

You cross the Missouri River and into Nebraska at Plattsmouth, which—according to a plaque mounted on the outskirts of town—the Lewis and Clark Expedition passed through over two centuries ago. Rhaena follows Aegon’s directions to cut between Lincoln and Omaha, avoiding the roiling wastelands of the cities and keeping well north of Cooper Nuclear Station, where in the absence of a successful manual or computerized shutdown before the power grid collapsed, rods of uranium are melting down and irradiating the surrounding area, anemia, cancer, heart disease, radiation sickness, an affliction that eats you alive.

Rhaena takes Nebraska State Route 66 north and then Route 92 due west, lush fields of corn and soybeans and sorghum planted before the dead began to walk, bones of devoured livestock. You stop for the night in a town called Broken Bow, the sky turning the colors of fire and rust and blood, the Tahoe exsanguinated like a man with a slit throat. Every vehicle you pass already has its fuel cap unscrewed; the farther west you go—the scarcer the resources, the longer it’s been since the world began to end—the less the earth will yield to you: less guns, less gasoline, less food, less human settlements scattered across what was once called the frontier. You commandeer a two-story house: white wood, wraparound porch, a long gravel driveway that winds like a snake. There is a small cornfield and a barn, both of which you sweep for zombies before making yourselves at home. You try not to think about what happened to the family that used to live here.

Helaena lights candles, Luke and Rhaena distribute bowls and silverware, Aemond and Rio gather kindling for the woodstove, Daeron keeps watch on the porch, Aegon picks all the Twizzlers out of a mixed bag of Hershey’s candy for Jace. There is a 12-pack of Ramen noodles in the pantry, gallons of water in the cellar, and a pot large enough to cook it all in one batch. Cregan takes Ice and disappears into the cornfield for half an hour at dusk—something none of the rest of you would ever consider—and reappears with an opossum that he’s nearly decapitated with his axe. He butchers it and you brown cubes of meat in a sauté pan placed directly on the glowing embers. The others are horrified and won’t eat a single bite until you do. It’s the first real food you’ve had since you left Saratoga Springs, and you feel satiated in a way you had forgotten existed.

In honor of Jace’s resurrection, some revelry is in order. There are bottles of Grey Goose vodka in a kitchen cabinet, and Aemond allows a two drink maximum for anyone eligible to participate: Baela is too pregnant, Daeron is too young, Aemond himself is too vigilant, too self-sacrificial, too indoctrinated into the religion of his own martyrdom.

“Daddy loved his screwdrivers,” Cregan says. “I remember being five or six and taking a big gulp of one thinking it was Sunny D or Tang or something. Lord almighty, was that a shock!” He guffaws, then inspects the pantry, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks. “We ain’t got nothing like orange juice though.”

“Mama made hers with Hawaiian Punch.” You point: there are several jugs of it on the floor between boxes of Pop-Tarts and Welch’s Fruit Snacks and Cheddar Whales, red like crushed blackberries or fresh blood.

Cregan grins at you over his brawny shoulder. “That’ll work, Miss Chips.”

Luke and Rhaena have first watch, Rio and Aegon will take the second. You are blessedly unburdened tonight. This house is big enough for you to get your own room; you climb the staircase with Grey Goose vodka burning in your throat, your head warm and dizzy, a sensation like freefalling as you lie down on the bed.

I left them, you think, the walls spinning around you, echoes of Mama’s voice through the phone as Rio stood there nodding, encouraging you to hang up. I left them and I never looked back. Can someone commit such an act of ancestral betrayal without incurring a curse?

You are still considering this when you feel Aemond’s weight on the mattress and fold into him, the world going dark and hushed and harmless.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I think it’s safe,” you tell Aemond between sighs, his lips on your throat, his hand between your thighs. Late-morning sunlight slants in through the bedroom windows; goldfinches and blue jays flap by chirping blithely. The dead pillage the misfortunate beasts of the earth, but creatures of the air and water are spared. You can hear geese honking from a distance, and the breeze through the cornfield, and calm indistinct voices beneath the floorboards. You can smell pancakes turning from white to gold in a pan sizzling with Crisco. Cregan must be cooking breakfast in the woodstove.

“How sure are you?” Aemond murmurs, his breath warm on your neck, those small teeth he’s always hiding nipping playfully, and if he leaves marks like stains of ballpoint ink you don’t care. He’s whisked every scrap of your clothing away. Beneath him you are bare and helpless and needing more.

“Like…eighty percent sure.”

“I’ll pull out.”

“Like Jace did?”

He laughs and kisses your mouth, not just ravenous but wild like a storm, and all the rest of the world goes quiet. Your ankles are linked around him, his hips rocking with yours. He is wearing only his boxers, black plaid from a looted Walmart, apocalypse chic. “Hopefully better than that.”

“Just try your best. I trust you. I’m willing to risk it.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s worth it to me.” I could be dead in nine months, he could be dead in nine months. I’m not wasting the time we have left.

“It’s your decision. You would be most affected by the consequences.” He draws away and glances down. “I want to look at you.”

“Ohhh.” You stall. “I’ve been trimming with scissors by candlelight. It’s a hack job.”

“I won’t mind.” He grins. “You don’t mind my hack job of a face.”

“I love your face,” you say as you skim your fingerprints down the length of his scar. And then, when he raises an eyebrow roguishly: “I didn’t break any rules. I didn’t say I love you, just your face. I’m totally using you for your face. Your personality is terrible.”

He snickers, kisses you goodbye, retreats to your hips and pushes your thighs apart as you cover your face and whimper, nervous, exhilarated. And then his lips are on you and the trepidation melts away, puddles pooling and then evaporating, and you have a vision of being home again, shivering and dripping in front of the crackling flames of the woodstove after playing outside in the snow and waiting for the fire to take the cold away. Now the fire is growing over you like ivy, tendrils snaking through veins and leaves opening in your lungs, bones vanishing, muscles turning pliant and weightless. You can feel Aemond’s fingers pushing into you, a fleeting second of tension and discomfort, and then a fullness that is delectable, irresistible, maddening.

“Come back,” you plead, and when he does you clasp his face with both hands, kissing him deeply as his fingers remain inside you, thrusting and bathed in your wetness. You’re finally ready for him, you have to be, you need him so badly: like you’re dying of thirst, like you’re running out of air. “Now, Aemond, please. I want all of you.”

And he wants it too. His boxers are gone and he’s positioning himself between your legs, his tongue in your mouth, one hand cradling your jaw as the other guides his cock to where you are slick and aching and aware of an emptiness that has never felt so dire.

He’s so big…

But you are determined to take all of him. You don’t care if there’s pain, if there’s fear. You want to feel what it’s like to be with him before it’s too late.

Aemond presses himself against you, rolls his hips cautiously…and nothing happens. He is a bit more forceful. There is immense pressure, then the beginning of a stretching that is sharp, searing, dreadful, unfamiliar in a way that is completely disorienting. You gasp before you can stop yourself; a wince ripples across your face too quickly to camouflage. Aemond shakes his head and climbs off you, settling beside you on the bed.

“Fuck,” you exhale in frustration, slapping a palm down on the mattress. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand why…why I’m like this…”

“Shh,” Aemond soothes, kissing you. “It’s okay, it’s fine. I’ll help you finish and then we can try again later.”

“Why isn’t this easier?”

“You’re just nervous,” he says gently, smoothing your hair back from your face, like it’s no big deal, like he’s pointing out a bird or a rabbit or the shape of a cloud.

“I don’t feel nervous.”

“It’s not always conscious, sometimes the body reacts without the mind even being aware of it. You tense up and things become…more challenging. But fortunately for us, the treatment is very enjoyable. We just keep messing around and working up to it until one day you’re so aroused and so relaxed that I can glide in without any discomfort whatsoever, and then your body adjusts to this glorious new experience and you aren’t so nervous anymore.”

“Can’t you just…you know…sorry, this isn’t very romantic, but like…shove it in?”

“I could, sure,” Aemond says. “If I was a horrible person. And then you’d learn to associate sex with pain, which would just exacerbate the situation.”

“The problem, you mean.”

He smiles patiently. “You aren’t a problem. We’ll figure it out, we have time.”

Do we? You stare morosely up at the ceiling, shadows of clouds, shades of wings. “I should have hooked up with that Marine at Corpus Christi. Then I’d have practice. I was so afraid of giving a man the power to hurt me or get me pregnant or otherwise ruin my life, but I didn’t know I’d meet you one day. And now I just want everything to be easy for us, and it isn’t.”

“Hey.” Aemond turns your face towards his. “For me, you are…” He struggles to decide on the words, his eye drifting to the window, sunlight turning the blue of his iris to a shallow, glass-clear river. “You’re like an island, and everything else is a sea of poison, and violence, and catastrophically fucked up situations, and when we’re alone together it all goes away for a little while. The world gets quiet. It’s never been like that for me before. I don’t mind if it takes time for us to figure this out. I just want to be with you.”

“What happens when we get to Nevada, and you’re supposed to turn south for the Bay Area while I go north to Oregon?”

Aemond shrugs, but his expression is contemplative. “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe we’ll all stay together and go to one place, then the other. If Odessa is safe, I can bring my parents, Criston, and Grandfather there. If it isn’t, we can bring Rio’s family south and live in California in that beach house on the cliff.”

“I never thought I’d set foot in a mansion.”

“I never thought I’d eat opossum.”

You laugh and curl up against him, resting your head and a palm on his chest. “How was it?”

“Not too bad, actually. Kind of like dark meat chicken. A little gamey, but I like lamb and venison, so that’s fine with me.”

“Just wait until you try bear.”

“Bear?!”

There is a knock at the bedroom door. Luke’s bashful voice is muted through the wood. “Aemond?”

“Yeah?” Aemond replies impatiently.

This was not an invitation, but Luke doesn’t seem to know that. He opens the door, and as he does Aemond throws the blanket over you so you’re covered, leaving himself completely exposed.

Luke begins: “I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to bother you, but…” His eyes go wide. “Oh, you’re like, all the way naked.” He turns and stares at the wall to be polite. “If it’s a bad time, I could come back in five minutes. Do you need more than five minutes? Wait, that was rude, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure you can last way longer than five minutes…um…”

Aemond sighs. “What’s wrong, Luke?”

“Jace is sick.”

“Sick?” Aemond sits up straighter, his eye narrowing. “Sick how?”

“He’s been puking since he woke up.”

You and Aemond exchange a startled glance as you clutch the edges of a blanket patterned with wild horses. Illness, virus, plague, curse.

“He hasn’t been bitten or anything,” Luke says quickly. “So it can’t be…you know…that. And he and Baela don’t seem that worried. But you should probably take a look at him.”

Aemond nods, less alarmed now. “I agree. Can I get those five minutes first?”

Luke smiles. “Yeah. See you downstairs.” He leaves and shuts the door behind him.

You look to Aemond. “Why—?”

He yanks the blanket away and drags you towards him. “I said I was going to help you finish,” he says, grinning, a hand slipping between your thighs.

You bite at his lips when he kisses you and tease: “I don’t need your help.”

“No, I’m sure you don’t. But it’s better when I’m here.”

And he’s right; it is.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daeron is out on the front porch sharpening sticks into arrows and using goose feathers for fletching, attaching them to the wood with a tube of Gorilla Glue that Helaena found for him. Helaena herself is presently floating through the house—soundlessly, ethereally, traceless like a ghost—and partaking in what you all call “apocalypse shopping,” pilfering the clothes and accessories of the former occupants. She seems to know everyone’s sizes without needing to ask. Aegon, Rio, and Cregan are sitting in the living room and eating pancakes off paper plates, carelessly spilling Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup on hideous 1970s couches ornamented with scenes of pheasants and autumn leaves. Down on the Turkish-style area rug, Ice is merrily chomping her way through a stack of burnt pancakes.

“So Cregan,” Rio says, his bare feet propped on the coffee table. “What did you do before the whole zombie situation?”

“I was a lumberjack.”

“No way!”

“Yes sir. I cut down trees for the power company.”

“What a coincidence,” Rio says around a mouthful of pancakes. “I was an electrician!”

“Well how about that? We oughta go into business together once the world straightens itself out. Where’d you work?”

“All over. Wherever the Navy sent us.”

Cregan sets his fork down on his plate. “You were enlisted?”

“Yeah, me and Chips both. That’s how we met.”

Cregan, much to Rio’s surprise, seizes his hand and shakes it soberly. “Thank you very kindly for your service.”

“No problem,” Rio replies, then turns to Aegon. “No gratitude from you, huh?”

“I showed my gratitude when I let you have the last pancake, you ogre…”

In the only bedroom on the first floor, down a hallway and towards the back of the house, Jace looks worse than you expected. He is heaving into a reusable plastic popcorn bucket, gluey ropes of saliva dangling from his lips; his skin is pale and bloodless, his dark curls damp with sweat. Baela is perched beside him on the bed and holding a wet washcloth to the back of his neck. Rhaena and Luke are loitering anxiously in the doorway, watching Aemond to determine if they should panic.

Jace casts you a bitter glance. “You poisoned me with your poor people food.”

“There’s nothing wrong with eating opossum,” you say, somewhat defensively.

Aemond feels his forehead. “That wouldn’t give you a fever. And everyone else is fine.”

“Maybe I’m extra sensitive. My digestive system has higher standards. I’m built different.” Jace resumes retching into the bucket.

Baela tells Aemond: “He can’t keep anything down. There’s nothing left in him, but he’s still so sick…it has to be a stomach flu, right?”

“Who would he have caught it from?” Luke asks, and Baela doesn’t have an answer.

“Stand up,” Aemond orders Jace when his wave of nausea abates. “Strip down.”

“Aemond, he wasn’t bitten,” Baela says. “I saw his whole body last night. He doesn’t have any scratches or bruises or anything.”

“Fine. But I want to see for myself.”

Jace stumbles out of the bed, pushing away Baela’s hands as she tries to stop him. “Okay, Nick Fury. If you wish to gaze upon the goods, I won’t deny you. I’m not shy.” Aemond rolls his eye. You turn around to give Jace privacy. “What’s the matter, Chips? The only dick you’re interested in belongs to Mike Wazowski over there?”

“Jace,” Baela says, but she’s chuckling. Amused, you stare at a picture on the wall—a haloed Jesus guiding a flock of lambs—as Jace sheds his clothing and follows Aemond’s instructions: lift your arm, turn around, show me the bottoms of your feet.

“No bites,” Aemond confirms, deep in thought. “But the symptoms…”

“It’s not that, Aemond, I’m telling you,” Jace insists, rasping breaths between each clause. “Listen, I got sick when I was alone, before I found you guys again. My stomach, my head. Maybe it’s the same thing now. It didn’t last long, and I thought I was over it, but I guess not.”

“People don’t get better and then worse again after they’ve been bitten,” Rhaena observes softly. “They just get worse.”

Jace lies back down on the bed, his face crumbling with pain. Baela uses the wet washcloth to cool his cheeks and neck. “My head hurts so fucking bad…”

“Because you’re dehydrated,” Aemond says.

“Helaena brought pills, but every time I try to take one I throw it up before it can start working.” There is a gurgling sound in his guts, and then a horrified expression. “Baela, I gotta get outside again.” She and Luke immediately swoop in, grab one arm each, and usher him out of the bedroom, through the back door of the farmhouse, and into the cornfield to allow him some semblance of dignity.

Rhaena gives you and Aemond an awkward smirk. “Helaena found Jace a 24-pack of Angel Soft toilet paper in the basement. So there’s some good news.”

“He needs electrolytes,” Aemond says. “We can’t let him get so dehydrated that his kidneys shut down. IV fluids aren’t an option. Pedialyte would be the next best thing, Gatorade or Powerade if that’s all we can find.”

“We passed a pharmacy on our way here,” Rhaena recalls. “It’s only a mile back, I think.”

Aemond nods. “Then that’s where I’m going,” he says, and walks out of the room.

You say as you follow him: “I want to go with you.”

“No.” Aemond points to Rio, who is now playing Uno with Aegon on the coffee table in the living room. “You and I are going to a pharmacy to get Pedialyte for Jace so he doesn’t die.”

“Cool,” Rio says, standing and fetching his Remington shotgun from where he propped it against the wall. “What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know. Maybe food poisoning.”

Aegon says, a hand pressed to his heart: “Personally, I loved the opossum.”

You stare defiantly up at Aemond. “If Rio is going, I have to go too.”

“Aww, so you can protect me?” Rio teases fondly, patting your back with one monstrous palm, an unintentional battering.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Rio looks at Aemond. Aemond looks at you, touching his chin agitatedly. “You are stressing me out.”

“I’m the best shot. I want to be there in case anything happens.”

“Fine, okay, whatever you want. Just stay near Rio.”

“That’s the idea.”

“A pharmacy?” Aegon asks excitedly. “Can I go?”

“No,” Aemond snaps, and continues out onto the porch. In the gravel driveway, Cregan and Daeron are kneeling by the Tahoe and inspecting the front tire on the driver’s side. “What’s wrong now?” Aemond asks, exasperated.

“Got a flat,” Cregan says. “The little fella here noticed it.”

Daeron is mortified. “Please don’t call me that.”

Aemond peers around mistrustfully, out at the road, into the cornfield. “Someone sabotaged us?”

Cregan shakes his head and taps the tire. “Naw, we just ran over a nail yesterday. You can see it right here. A big one too, a masonry nail, I suspect.”

“Can you fix it?” Rio asks.

“I think so. I saw a jack and a lug wrench hanging up on the wall in the barn, now I just need a new tire, a real one. A spare wouldn’t do us much good, not with all the weight we’re carrying. It’d pop in twenty miles.” Cregan gestures to the main road, but westward, the opposite direction from the pharmacy. “Don’t remember seeing a tire place on our way in. Figured I’d try the other direction. I’ll walk ‘til I find a shop or a truck with the right kind of tires to steal from, whichever comes first. Can’t change a tire on gravel, though. I’ll have to drive the Tahoe out to the road and fix it there. I’m gonna need Rhaena’s keys.”

There is an uneasy lull as Aemond studies him. You, Rio, Daeron, and Aegon—who is lingering on the front porch, not yet ready to admit defeat—glance between them apprehensively. Ice is rolling around in the gravel, coating her grey fur with dust. “How do I know you won’t take off without us?”

Cregan’s face goes dark. His brow, heavy and furrowed, settles low over his eyes. “Look buddy, I’ve done a lot of things for you and your people that I didn’t have to. And now I’m fixing the Tahoe so it can take you west, someplace you decided we’re going. If you don’t trust me, do it yourself. Kill your own opossum. Change your own flat tire. But you can’t, can you? Just like I can’t shoot a zombie straight through the eye or tell you how to cure that sick boy in there. We’ve all got jobs here. Let me do mine.”

Aemond glowers at Cregan, knowing he’s right. Daeron averts his eyes; Rio, grinning, eats a handful of Cheddar Whales from a pocket of his cargo shorts. You lay a palm on Aemond’s forearm. “Aemond…he’s trying to help.”

“Sure,” Aemond replies crossly.

“You want collateral?” Cregan says. “Take my dog.” He whistles, and Ice scampers to his side. He points to you. “Go on, princess.” Ice obediently trots over to stand with you, shaggy ash-colored fur, bestial amber eyes like a rattlesnake’s. “She’ll look after you on your way to the pharmacy and back. And if the Tahoe and I have mysteriously vanished upon your return, you can eat her for dinner.”

“You don’t want a warning if you’re about to run into zombies?” Rio asks.

Cregan chuckles as he picks up his axe off the gravel. “Don’t you worry about me. We haven’t heard a peep since we got into town, and I’m just going a little ways up the road. Any less than ten of those abominations, and I can take care of myself.” He gives you and Rio a parting salute and strides into the farmhouse to collect the Tahoe keys from Rhaena.

Aemond turns to Daeron. “Stay here, keep watch. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Daeron nods, glancing to where his compound bow rests on the front porch. “Got it.”

“Aegon will help you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Aegon says. “I want to go to the pharmacy too.”

Aemond is losing what remains of his patience. “No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Then can you at least bring me something back?”

Rio is confounded. “What do you need?”

“You know…” Aegon gestures vaguely. “Percocet, Vicodin, Oxy, maybe some of that cough syrup with the codeine in it—”

“Grow the fuck up,” Aemond flares, and Aegon falls silent. “You’re thirty years old. Take some goddamn responsibility for something, for anything. I have to go to the pharmacy, Cregan has to fix the Tahoe, someone has to stay here with Daeron to help protect Jace and Baela, and Luke and Rhaena, and Helaena too. Just shut up and do the right thing. You have to start acting like an adult. Who do you think is in charge if I get killed? I’ve never for a single day of my life had the luxury of making selfish choices, and now I feel like I’m not even allowed to die. Leaving everyone else with you would be like leaving them with nobody.”

Aegon gazes up at him, not offended but childishly, mortally wounded. His oceanic eyes are huge and glistening. “But you’re not going to die before me.”

“That’s not the point,” Aemond pitches back, cutting, caustic. Then he starts down the long gravel driveway towards the road. You give Aegon a small, apologetic half-smile and then follow after his younger brother, Ice loping alongside you.

Rio thumps Aegon encouragingly on one shoulder. “See you soon, Honey Bun.” And Aegon watches the three of you disappear, standing in the dazzling midday light with his arms folded over his chest and his hair in hie face, kicking at the gravel with the Sperry Bahama sneakers he once wore on yachts and golf courses.

“Please try to be nice to him,” you tell Aemond when you’re far enough away to be out of earshot. Rio is humming a song you don’t immediately recognize—probably Enrique Iglesias—and acting like he’s not listening. “You don’t know how much longer any of us have. And if that was the last thing you ever said to him, you’d feel awful about it.”

“You have no idea what it was like being his brother. Since I was born all I’ve done is try to plug the holes he blasts into ships. But there’s always water on the floor, I’m never done bailing it out. He needs to learn how to do things for himself.”

“Yes, he does. But he loves you, and he wants you to be happy. He would never intentionally take anything from you. He’ll grow into his purpose, whatever that is.”

“He needs to do it faster,” Aemond says harshly, and you walk the rest of the way without speaking, listening for snarling or lurching footsteps, hearing nothing but birdsong and wind whispering through leaves.

The pharmacy—a diminutive family-owned business, not a chain—has been ravaged. The glass of the large bay window has been broken out and the shelves looted, empty containers and wrappers littering the floor, crystalline shards threatening to gash, stab, infect.

“Stay out here with the dog,” Aemond tells you. Ice is panting calmly, her ears relaxed, her strange yellowish eyes taking in the scenery without any concern. “If she gets her paws sliced up, Cregan will have yet another accusation to levy against me.”

“You’re going to have to get used to him.”

“Not much of an adjustment for you, it seems,” Aemond says, then steps through the shattered window, glass crunching beneath his shoes. Rio gives you a wink and goes after him. They rummage through the remaining merchandise, strewn about randomly and interspersed among trash. Aemond peeks behind the counter where pharmacists once filled prescriptions and climbs over it, searching for any bottles or boxes that were left behind.

“Sorry guys, no condoms,” Rio announces, then laughs at his own joke.

“Be careful,” you urge from outside. “Look underneath, check the bottom racks. Rio? Rio, down low, check them!”

“Relax, ain’t nothing going on in here. It’s silent as the grave.” He laughs again. “Get it? As the grave.”

“Aemond?”

“I’m fine,” he tells you as he squints to read medicine bottles.

“Okay, okay,” Rio says, squatting to examine the shelves closest to the cluttered floor. “I’m checking all the racks. There’s nothing scary under the racks. Happy now?”

“Very. Helaena said something that freaked me out.”

“She can be a bit of an enigma,” Aemond admits. He is taking a tiny box from a drawer to keep.

“Oh, we got Pedialyte!” Rio says, yanking a jug of pink fluid from a pile of debris. “You think Jace likes strawberry?”

Aemond hurries over to help him hunt for more. “Yeah. It’s like a Twizzler, right?”

Ice noses your hand and whimpers softly. You look down at her. “What?”

She whirls and canters around the side of the pharmacy, then returns to make sure you’re keeping up. You go after her, slow and wary, a hand on one of your Beretta M9s. There’s nothing of note to be found in the narrow, shadowy alleyway other than an overflowing dumpster and two skeletons stripped of every shred of fabric and flesh; even the bones were licked clean.

You turn to Ice. “Did I need to see this?” She whines and shifts her weight from foot to foot, ears perked up. Something else? You look down the alleyway. Far behind the pharmacy and the shops that surround it is a church on a jade green slope, old-fashioned, white wood and a belltower. There is a cemetery beside it, and amidst the small grey blurs of headstones are… “Oh,” you breathe. “So that’s where the rest of the town is.”

The graveyard is full of limp, swaying figures that can only be zombies. You are far away and draped in shadows; you retreat back to the pharmacy without any indication that you’ve been spotted, Ice trailing close behind. Aemond and Rio are climbing out of the window just as you arrive. They are each carrying three jugs of Pedialyte in various flavors.

“Where the hell’d you go?” Aemond says; but he sounds more relieved than irritated.

“There’s a church about an eight of a mile away. And there are a lot of zombies in the cemetery.”

Rio sets his Pedialyte down on the sidewalk and reaches for the Remington 12 gauge hanging over his shoulder by its leather strap. “Okay, let’s go clear them out.”

“No, I mean a lot. Like a hundred.”

He freezes. “Oh.”

“We should leave town,” you say.

“While Jace is puking and shitting everywhere? You want to be stuck in a car with that?”

Aemond is thinking, toying with the little box you saw him pick up earlier. “We’ll leave as soon as we can.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He shows you the label. “Injectable morphine. All the pills were gone, but I found one vial of this, and I have syringes in my medical kit. It doesn’t need to be refrigerated. It should still be useable.”

“For Baela?” For when she delivers the baby?

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Just in case.” Then he looks at both you and Rio meaningfully. “Don’t tell Aegon I have this.”

“We won’t,” Rio promises. And Ice begins trotting back towards the farmhouse, as if trying to rush you along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe is at the mouth of the long gravel driveway, still up on a hand-cranked scissor jack. The tire appears to be new, but the lug nuts haven’t been tightened, and the wrench is nowhere to be found.

“Cregan?” Rio says uncertainly, peeking through the cornstalks as they bend in the wind. “Hey, Cregan? Aemond’s sorry he was a bitch to you earlier. He wants you to return ASAP and do manual labor for him.” Aemond grimaces; Rio beams in reply. But Cregan does not appear.

You can hear them long before you reach the farmhouse, muffled chaotic chattering, raised voices and rushing footsteps. As you ascend the steps of the front porch, Rhaena bursts through the door.

“Thank God you’re back,” she says; there is blood on her hands. “It’s Jace, he…he…come look at him. Aemond, you have to do something. He’s sick, he’s really sick. He’s bleeding.”

“From where?” Aemond asks, urgent, bewildered.

“From everywhere,” Rhaena replies, and beckons for him to follow.

The bedsheets Jace is swathed in are blooming with crimson, flowers of doomed gore. Blood drips from his nostrils and his eyes; when he retches into the popcorn bucket, clots of pink and red spew out. Everyone is gathered around him and speaking at the same time, except Helaena. She is crouched on the floor of the hallway just outside his room, her arms wrapped around her bent knees and her face stricken. Ice curls up beside her.

Above the other voices, Baela screams at Aemond, a desperate horrified moan: “What’s wrong with him?!”

Aemond pushes by the others and feels Jace’s forehead, then grabs his wrist to measure his pulse. As Aemond’s fingers tighten, Jace’s skin rips beneath them, the top layer sliding off and leaving only glistening, raw pink. Jace howls, tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t know,” Aemond says, his voice unsteady.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?!” Baela shouts back. “You’re a doctor! Fix him!”

“It hurts, Aemond,” Jace gasps, fresh blood on his teeth. When Baela touches his hair, locks of it fall out into her hand.

“He’s turning, right?” Rio says to you. “This is what happened to Snowflake, the blood and the skin and everything—?”

“He wasn’t bitten!” Luke insists, positioned in front of Jace’s bed as if he’s guarding it.

“I don’t care if we can’t find a bite mark, he’s decomposing for Christ’s sake, what the fuck else could it be?!”

Daeron returns with more blankets and towels. Aegon grabs a strawberry Pedialyte out of Rio’s grasp and tries to help Jace drink it. Cregan is muttering: “I ain’t never seen anything like this…”

Decomposing, you think dizzily. He wasn’t bitten, but he’s falling apart…what else does that to a person?

Baela cleans blood from his lips, a towel turning from snow to rubies. “Jace, baby, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to help you…”

“Could it be rat poison or something?” Cregan is saying. “Rabies? Mad cow disease? Ebola?”

“How the fuck do you think he got Ebola?!” Aemond exclaims. “You think he took a jet to sub-Saharan Africa when he was on his own? Use your brain.”

“I’m just trying to come up with ideas here, doc, and I don’t see you with any bright ones!”

He’s decomposing. He’s decomposing.

And then you remember. You kneel down beside the bed so you can look into his face, so you can make him pay attention. “Jace, listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” he replies faintly. He coughs, wet and gurgling. Fresh blood paints his lips. There are blisters beginning to form up and down his arms, you see now, the skin bubbling and separating.

“Jace, do you remember Three Mile Island?”

“What the fuck.” He is baffled, dismissive. “Three Mile what? Huh? What are you talking about…?”

“You’re upsetting him,” Baela says fiercely, tears glittering in her eyes.

But you are determined. “Outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, after we left Fort Indiantown Gap. There were these huge concrete cooling towers. We saw them from the Wawa parking lot.” But he wasn’t there when we talked about radiation. He was still inside searching for guns. “Remember, Jace? Do you remember?”

Now Aemond and Rio are looking at you, petrified, realizing what you must be thinking. No one else understands yet. After a long pause, Jace nods feebly. “Yeah. I remember the towers.”

“Good,” you say, smiling to encourage him. “Okay, this is important. After we lost you at the river, before you found us again, did you see anywhere that looked like Three Mile Island?”

“Yeah,” Jace murmurs as he stares back at you with glazed, bloody eyes; and Rio sighs and shakes his head. “I drove right by it on the Honda. The sign said Byron.”

And it’s been over for him since that moment.

“Alright, Jace.” You want to touch him, to embrace him or cup his cheek. You know it will only make his suffering worse. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to ask.” He begins to gag again, and Baela hurries to place the popcorn bucket so it can catch his liquefying organs. You turn around and walk through the doorway.

“What’s happening?” Aegon asks you, hushed voice, frantic eyes. He has followed you to the living room, along with Aemond, Rio, and Cregan. You nod to Aemond. He knows.

“It’s radiation sickness,” Aemond says, low and bleak.

“What?!” Aegon gapes at him. “I mean, are you sure…?”

“It fits all the symptoms. He was in close proximity to a nuclear power plant, something the rest of us have intentionally avoided. If there was a meltdown, there are miles and miles that are poisoned with radiation. Passing by on a motorcycle could definitely result in a lethal dose.”

“Poor guy,” Rio says. “Not a good way to go.”

“No,” you agree. It isn’t.

“So how do you treat something like that?” Cregan asks Aemond.

“It can’t be treated,” Aemond replies tersely. “Not here, not by me, not by anyone. Not even if the world was normal again.”

“What do you mean it can’t be treated?! Everything can be treated nowadays! Cancer, heart attacks, diabetes, hell, my cousin got testicular cancer and he was fine a month later, he even got to keep one of his balls!”

“Radiation sickness can’t be treated. He’s going to die.”

“But how is that possible when—?!”

“I need you to try to not be stupid for five minutes,” Aemond snaps.

You say quietly: “He’s not stupid, Aemond. He just doesn’t know about this.”

“You are always defending him.”

“Because not going to med school isn’t a character flaw.”

Cregan asks mildly, looking at Aemond: “Could you explain it to me?”

“It’s pennies in a jar, man,” Rio says. “Radiation stacks up and at a certain point it kills you. It destroys your DNA and your body falls apart. You can get it just by going near someplace contaminated, and you might not even feel it happen. And there’s no way to undo the damage. The pennies never leave the jar.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Aemond. “Was that so difficult?”

Aemond ignores him. “We have to tell Jace,” he says instead.

Back in the bedroom—a mineral stench in the air, coppery blood and the salt of sweat—Aegon sits on the edge of the bed and takes one of Jace’s swelling, blistering hands carefully in his own.

“Don’t hold my hand, you loser.” Jace mumbles, and Aegon respectfully releases him.

“Jace,” Aegon begins. “We think you have radiation sickness.”

Jace blinks up at him, wincing and disoriented. “Which means…?”

“Which means, um, it’s going to be…not great.”

“Why are you the person explaining this?”

“You’re right, I really shouldn’t be explaining it. Can someone else explain it…?” Aegon glances around hopefully.

“Jace,” Aemond says. “Those cooling towers you drove by were part of a nuclear power plant that melted down when the power grid collapsed. You received a fatal dose of radiation. It’s the only thing that explains what’s happening to you.”

“Fatal…?” Daeron ventures.

Rhaena gasps and reaches for Luke. Baela’s face is a mask of numb shock. Jace stares up at Aemond for a long time before he speaks. “Aemond, fix me.”

Aemond’s words are brittle and fracturing. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Stop fucking around, man, you’re a doctor. You can fix me. I know you can. You’re a genius. You’re a total freak but you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Give me the pills, give me the shots. Cut me open if you have to. I won’t scream, I promise. Fix me. I trust you.”

“Jace, I can’t do anything. No one can.”

“I have to meet the baby, Aemond,” Jace whispers, scarlet tears bleeding down his cheeks. “I have to be here for Baela and Luke. Fix me, man. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”

“Jace,” Aemond says, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I can’t help you.”

Jace looks to Baela, Luke, Rhaena, and at last back to Aemond. “How long?”

“Not very. A few days, maybe.”

“Days?” he echoes, dazed. “What happens?”

Aemond shakes his head. You don’t want to know.

“Yeah I do. Tell me.”

Aemond can’t respond; clear silent tears snake down the right side of his face. Rio answers for him. “You continue to bleed out of every orifice and the rest of your skin falls off. And eventually you die.”

Jace breaks down in sobs. “I was trying to find you guys.”

Suddenly, Baela turns to you and Rio and Aemond, wrathful, hissing. “This is your fault.”

Aemond pleads: “Baela, please don’t—”

“You made me leave him at the river. I knew he was still alive, but you forced me to leave him. If he’d been with us, this never would have happened. But he was alone, and it was because of you. You did this to him. You stole him from me.”

Rhaena tries to console her. “Baela, no one meant to—”

“I just got him back!” she screams, and then shelters Jace in her arms as he clings to her, the skin of his fingers and palms flaking at the pressure, holding onto her anyway. No one knows what to say; everyone has tears burning in their eyes and embers in their throats. “Get out,” Baela demands. “Leave us alone. This is the last time I’ll ever have with him and it’s your fucking fault. So get out.”

And you leave them to their final moments, failing flesh in a dying world.

~~~~~~~~~~

Only Luke and Rhaena flit in and out of the bedroom, carrying soiled linens and the plastic popcorn bucket to be periodically emptied. The rest of you are engrossed in a grim, thunderstruck deathwatch in the living room. You discuss the inevitable in hushed murmurs. It is cruel to let Jace suffer; it is unspeakably horrible to let Baela witness it. Ice alternates between receiving scratches from Cregan, Helaena, and Aegon, never trying to enter Jace’s room. You can hear Jace and Baela talking in there, his retching and groaning, her sobs.

It is not until dusk that Rhaena summons Aemond. Luke is weeping as he paces back and forth in the bedroom. Baela is still sitting on the bed with Jace, resigned now. She does not apologize, but she doesn’t have any more venom to spit either. The rest of you watch from the hallway, keeping a respectful distance. Ice nudges your hand with her nose, but you ignore her. Jace’s bloody eyes roll to Aemond.

“I’m keeping you here, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Aemond replies. There’s no point in lying.

“And I don’t need to feel myself melting like this for days. I get the idea.” Jace looks at Aemond for a while. His voice is anemic but calm; there are fresh blisters on his face and neck. “What can you give me?”

Aemond opens his medical kit and shows Jace the vial of morphine. “I found this at the pharmacy today. It would be painless, like going to sleep and never waking up.”

“Why do you have that?”

“I was thinking a small amount might help Baela during labor.”

“Is it the only morphine in your kit?”

“Yes.”

Jace nods. “Save it for Baela.” His gaze drops to the Glock in the holster at Aemond’s waist. “Can I borrow that?”

Rhaena stifles a dismayed yelp. Baela closes her eyes, but does not protest. Aemond says: “I don’t think you want to do this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Cyclops,” Jace says, smiling. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“It’s heavy,” Aemond warns. He clicks off the safety and gives the Glock to Jace. “Are you able to use it by yourself?”

“It’s a very simple two-step process. Barrel to skull, finger on the trigger. I think I’ll manage.”

Again, Ice bumps her nose against your knuckles; again, you barely notice. Baela kisses Jace on the mouth, her lips coming away bloody. Rhaena says goodbye to him, then Luke, whispered parting words you don’t try to listen to. Before Aemond exits, Jace grasps his hand.

“Take care of my family, Aemond.”

“I will.”

“Don’t let the zombies eat me afterwards.”

And then it becomes real. Aemond’s composure falters. “Jace…I’m so sorry…”

“Go,” Jace urges him. Then there is a coughing fit, fresh blood and pieces of stomach and lungs. “Right now. Before I lose my nerve.”

Baela is the last one to leave the bedroom; she shuts the door behind her. Almost immediately afterwards is a deafening bang. Baela sinks to the floor and wails, one hand on her belly, the other embracing Rhaena and Luke when they rush to her. Ice is whining and pawing at the floor, her nails screeching on the hardwood. Aemond alone returns to Jace’s bedroom and reappears with his Glock. He places it back in his holster, his scarred face vacant. There’s blood on his fingers, you see. Jace’s blood, the last he’ll ever shed. Aemond hasn’t noticed yet.

You reach for Aemond’s hand; he flinches away. You ask him, pained: “Do you think if you don’t touch me, it won’t hurt you when I die?”

“Please don’t say that,” Aemond responds in a hoarse, splintering whisper.

Ice yowls, and Cregan is abruptly aware of her. “Oh shit, the Tahoe is still up on the jack. I’ll go get it.” He opens the front door. Under the moonlight, there are upwards of a hundred zombies stumbling down the long gravel driveway. Everyone begins screaming. Cregan slams the door shut and shoves one of the couches in front of it. “What now?!”

“We go through the cornfield,” Aemond says as you are all frantically gathering your sparse possessions. “It will be more difficult for them to see us. We kill as many as we can and we make our way to the Tahoe. Cregan, how long will it take you to get it ready to drive?”

“Maybe a minute. But I’ll need someone to spot me while I tighten the lug nuts.”

“Sounds like my kind of job opportunity,” Rio says, pumping his Remington. Helaena gives you a flashlight. Cregan secures the lug wrench under his belt and picks up his axe. Rhaena has her Ruger out and is telling Baela to breathe, to stay focused, to let her and Luke lead the way.

Aemond comes to you and leans in close so the others can’t hear. “How many bullets do you have left?”

“Not enough. Maybe fifty.”

“Do what you can. Stay near Rio.”

“I’ll try.”

Now there are zombies at the front windows, beating their spongy swamp-colored palms against the glass. Baela, Rhaena, and Luke are leaving through the back door with Daeron; you can hear the whizzing of his arrows and the sick soft sound they make when they pierce rotting meat. Under the weight of so many hands, one of the living room windows pops from its frame and clatters against the floor. You open fire, bullets exploding skulls and spraying brains, corpses jolting and then diving to the ground. You shoot until both M9s are empty, then pause to reload, boxes of bullets that Cregan gave you back in Iowa.

“Let them in,” Helaena says.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Aegon shouts at her. He’s firing his Marlin .22 beside you, quite poorly; Rio and Aemond are in the backyard killing any zombies that find their way towards the cornfield. “We’re not letting them get through the house!”

“Not through,” Helaena says placidly. “In.”

“Oh.” Aegon understands. “Oh! I get it! Trap them inside!” He races to the kitchen and tears the remaining bottles of Grey Goose vodka out of the cabinet, then begins spilling them onto the wood floor. “Helaena, give me a lighter.”

She places one in his outstretched palm and then leaves with Cregan as he escorts her away, leading her by her fragile hand. They vanish together into the cornfield, Ice on their heels.

“Time to go, Chips!” Rio booms; he can’t be far behind Cregan.

“We’re on our way!”

Zombies are pouring through the front of the house; another window has given way. You pull the trigger over and over again as you move with Aegon towards the backyard, his clear river of vodka drawing a path from one end of the house to the other. You hit the grass before he does, then wait for him by the edge of the cornfield. Aemond and Rio are shouting for Aegon to hurry up. He crosses through the threshold, flicks the lighter to life, and throws it into the house. His plan works—the farmhouse is abruptly aflame, cooking zombies like long-spoiled hams—but he neglected to realize that in his haste, he had also accidentally doused his own left leg and Sperry Bahama sneaker. The fire licks up over Aegon’s skin and blazes there radiantly. He shrieks and falls to the ground. Rio yanks his own shirt off and uses it to smother the inferno, then throws Aegon over one shoulder to carry him.

“Go to Cregan!” Rio tells Aemond, shoving him in the direction of the Tahoe. Rio will be slower now, but no one else could still run with Aegon’s added weight. “You and Daeron spot him until I get there!” When Aemond is gone, Rio glances back at you.

“I’m fine,” you say, felling zombies as they round the house. “Get Aegon to the car!” And Rio listens to you like he always does, vanishing with Aegon through the cornfield.

You weave through the leafy stalks, investigating each growl and rustling with the beam of your flashlight. Grotesque, fetid faces plunge through the greenery, and you demolish them. You’re in the rhythm now, wheeling for a target and locking in, squeezing the trigger and watching ghoulish faces disappear. And then you spy a zombie lurching towards you from fifteen feet away, a twenty-something in a red Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirt making her way down the dirt aisle between two rows of corn; and when you pull the trigger, there is only a dry click in reply. Your other M9 is already empty. You’ve used all the ammo Cregan gave you.

“I’m out of bullets,” you say, but no one hears you; you are alone. Aemond always told you to stay near Rio and you never did. Too late, you realize what an oversight that has been. “Rio? Aemond?!”

There are human voices and gunshots, but reverberating from a distance. Far closer are snarls and groans of the dead. You click off your flashlight, drop to the earth, and crawl until you are as far under a row of corn as you can be, long leaves tickling the back of your neck and damp soil in your nostrils. Clumsy, lumbering footsteps trod by you. From the road, you hear the Tahoe’s engine start with a rumble.

They’re leaving.

You shake your head, here with no one to see you in the dark. Still, the thought persists.

They’re leaving. I left my family and now my family is leaving me.

“Chips, stay where you are!” Rio shouts. “We’re coming back, we’ll find you!”

You wait until they are within ten feet of you, Rio cracking skulls with his Remington—he must be out of bullets too—and Aemond firing his Glock. “I’m here, I’m here!” you cry, and they are lifting you up from the dirt and dragging you towards Tahoe, and Aemond puts his pistol in your hand knowing you can do more good with it. You fire ten rounds before the Glock is empty, and you think with terror: Do any of us have bullets left?

Then you are being helped into the Tahoe, and the second all the doors are shut Rhaena floors the gas pedal, heading west on State Route 92.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I got my drugs after all,” Aegon rasps as Aemond injects him with morphine on the floor of a laundromat on the edge of Merna, Nebraska, far enough to escape the zombies, not so far that the Tahoe risks running out of gas before you reach the next town. His left leg is burned from the knee down, and burned badly: skin, fat, muscle, blood-red scorched ruin. Even through the modest dose of morphine—Aemond is terrified of accidentally killing him—Aegon can still feel what has happened to him. He knows it’s bad. He knows it could be the last mistake he ever makes. “I’m so thirsty…”

“I got you, Honey Bun,” Rio says, and then uses the butt of his Remington to bust open the vending machines and bring him bottles of Powerade. Baela is sobbing in the corner with Luke and Rhaena. Helaena is shining a flashlight on Aegon’s leg so Aemond can see. Daeron and Cregan are keeping watch by the entrance. You don’t even know why. All the bullets and arrows are gone, Aegon can’t walk, the Tahoe’s gas tank is nearly drained. If you are descended upon now, what will you do?

Aegon sobs and clutches for you, links his arms around your waist, rests his head in your lap. You hold him and comb your fingers through his unruly hair over and over again, like a compulsion, like a ritual. You are so afraid to let go of him. You are terrified he’ll disappear.

I wish I knew what to say. I never know what to say.

He’s shaking uncontrollably as Aemond cleans his leg: peeling away dead skin, wiping down the raw flesh with disinfectant. Aegon’s eyes are wide and glassy. There is blood on the white tile floor, pinkish lymph fluid, bits of charred skin. Ice is whimpering, her muzzle propped on her paws and her eyes darting around the room. Aegon manages through the pain, a reedy, gasping whisper: “Tell me about all those places you went when you were in the Navy.”

You can see it like the miles-deep blue of his eyes: the Indian Ocean, the jewel-tone equatorial sky. “On Diego Garcia, they have these birds called red-footed boobies—”

Aegon barks out a weak laugh. “They do not. You’re making that up.”

“No, really, I swear! They’re like seagulls, but they have blue on their face and bright red feet, hence the name. They’re extremely stupid, and one night a few of us were hanging out drinking Guinness and playing pool, and a booby flew in through an open window. We panicked, it panicked, and then it was flying in circles and couldn’t get out. We opened all the doors and windows, and the booby still just flew around banging into the walls. And of course the whole time it was shitting and bleeding and getting feathers everywhere, we knew it was going to take hours to clean up. After thirty minutes of chasing this idiot bird around, Rio snapped, took off his boot, and smacked the booby with it. He was trying to fling it out the window, like hitting a tennis ball with a racket, but he accidentally hit the bird too hard and murdered it. Its beak literally separated from its body and flew across the room. None of us could believe it, we didn’t even know that was possible. Rio felt so bad he started crying. We took the booby—and its beak, of course—out to the beach for a Viking funeral. We made it a little raft of coconut tree leaves, set it on fire with a lighter, and pushed it out into the waves.”

Aegon is cackling. “Bryan Osorio, terrorizer of the homicidal undead and boobies!”

“What else?” Baela says, and you look over at her, startled. The flashlight incandescence turns you all to ghosts, phantoms, half-shadows. At first you don’t know what she means. “What else did they have on Diego Garcia?”

“Oh, tell them about the coconut crabs,” Rio prompts you. He’s settled down beside Aegon and is resting one broad hand on his trembling shoulder.

“Coconut crabs?” Rhaena asks you, wiping tears from her cheeks with her delicate, small-boned fingers.

You are abruptly aware that you have an audience. You can feel yourself shrinking beneath their gazes. “Rio should tell the story. I’m not good at it.”

“Sure you are,” Rio says, smiling kindly beneath dark, wet eyes. “Go on. Tell them.”

So you do.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fanfic #hotd fic

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intimidating-fettuccine · 2 months ago

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May I request Ben and Hobo Heart with a naga/lamia s/o? Basically a humanoid upper half, and snake lower half. They can stretch their jaw like a snake, and have to deal with shedding their scales about twice a year. Thank you for writing stuff for us!

I'm imagining their snake lower halves as being quite long (15-20+ feet), wanted to clarify that detail, but otherwise I hope you enjoy!

BEN:

Coil around him. Please. Listen, he's already dead so you can't kill him, and he loves to be held as close to his partner as possible, so please, just coil your tail around him and hold him. It brings him so much joy and he probably wants you to cuddle him like that on a daily basis. I feel like he's just really into your snake tail in general. He probably asks to touch it whenever you're sitting together, and his hands will gently stroke along your tail in wonder and amazement at all your scales just fitting together so nicely. When it comes time for shedding season, I feel like he does whatever he can to help you out. He makes sure you're not stressed out so the process is smoother, he probably prepares bath soaks for you so that your tail can relax and get some hydration so that you have an easier time shedding all of that old snake skin. If you ever need any help shedding your skin he offers to help you (especially considering just how much of it you have to shed), and he always thinks it's the most satisfying thing in the world if you can get it to come off in one whole, solid piece. If you'd rather do it by yourself though, he'll sit beside you and rub your shoulders and back comfortingly and support you through it. My BEN actually has a pet ball python named Oliver, so needless to say, he thinks snakes are pretty fucking cool, and you are no exception, even though you're technically only half snake. He's not scared by you or your biology at all and finds you to be incredibly interesting. When you first start dating I feel like he questions you all the time about your biology and what life is like for you, and he is just so drawn to you and he thinks it's so amazing that he's the one lucky enough to date you.

Hobo:

Hobo... Hobo is a little scared of you in the beginning, but it's mostly his prey response, considering you're a predator animal. He's technically related to birds (with his wings and the little chirpy noises he can't help but make sometimes), and as some snakes eat birds, he can't help but naturally be a little scared at the start of your relationship, but he knows you'd never hurt him, and as he grows to love you more and more, he grows to lose the fear he originally had. While he doesn't want you to fully tightly coil around him like BEN would, he does sometimes like it if you loosely coil around him and allow him to cuddle up to your chest. He finds it very comforting to have the added pressure from cuddling with you, and when your tail is loose like that it doesn't trigger any fear instincts in his mind. He's sympathetic with your shedding season, as he has to shed all of his feathers every now and then too, and I feel like you guys would have a mutual agreement where he helps you with shedding your tail and you help him with shedding his wings. When both occur at the same time, you both get a nice little rhythm going and will just sit for an hour or two, talking and laughing together as you go about helping each other, and he really enjoys being able to do this with you. He eventually finds your presence to be very protective and safe, and whenever the two of you go out together he feels much safer because he has you by his side, and he grows to just be so at peace with you, and he grows to love everything about you that he originally was nervous about. You two are an unlikely couple together, but it serves to draw both of you closer together, and it works out very well in the long run.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned headcanons #ben drowned headcanon #hobo heart #hobo heart x reader #hobo heart headcanon #hobo heart headcanons

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divine-misfortune · 1 year ago

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Narcissist Rain strikes again.

1.8k words of Rain getting off on himself, and Swiss only making him worse.

[Disclaimer: this is in no way attempting to portray NPD, the word narcissist is being used in reference to the myth of narcissus.]

Rain drew his thighs together with a sudden gasp as he finally registered the multi ghoul lurking in his peripheral. He practically slammed his phone face down onto the desk with wide eyes, starting to stammer until he could find an excuse but it was hard to justify himself like this. Hand still trapped between his legs, pants tugged down to his knees, the room reeking of his scent.

Swiss' lips curl slowly as he moves to take a seat on the edge of the desk and Rain can't begin to describe how caged he feels. Mostly under the curious weight of his gaze. It's what he imagines being trapped under a microscope feels like, that, or being an ant under a magnifying glass. He was burning.

"What's wrong? You were whispering about how bad you wanted to be watched, Raincloud. So eager to have eyes on you…" Swiss fixed him with a half lidded stare, sultry as a tiger eyeing prey. "Well now you've got 'em, and I didn't tell you to stop. Entertain me."

His throat ran dry as Swiss' tail coiled itself around his knee and jerked his legs back apart, and he gasped at the sight of the water ghoul exposed. His fingers, thighs, and cunt glistened in the dim hotel lighting. Slick collected into a small, and growing, puddle on the leather chair he'd settled in. Rain felt himself throb as he looked down at himself. He should've felt a cold shame creeping up his spine as he willed his fingers to move again but his arousal only burned hotter. Rain bit his lip with enough force to feel a sharp sting of pain but pleasure canceled it out, every slow and deliberate circle against his clit pushed the unpleasant sensation further and further away.

Lips parting, he let out a moan that seemed to amuse the other ghoul. Music to his ears. Swiss encouraged the sound with a warm palm petting up his thigh, gracing just high enough the tips of his fingers could feel the slick smeared on his skin.

“That’s it Raincloud, just like how I would…” Swiss breathed through his teeth, nails barely scratching over skin as he trailed his hand towards his knee. “How is it darling?”

“G-Good?” He offered a meek response, voice warbling as he teased his fingers against his hole. Clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. Exactly how Swiss would. “Good,” he repeated definitively with a sigh. “Feels good…”

“You like touching yourself while I watch?”

Oh did he ever. Being watched felt dirtier, wrong in a different sort of way. Objectification in a way he could control, because Rain hardly ever enjoyed truly giving up control. It gave him a strange sense of satisfaction knowing someone was fixated on him and the way he ravaged himself like no one else could. A white hot wave of pride that crashed into him and trickled down his spine.

He shuddered.

Rain doesn’t trust himself to speak. He nods, a little over eager in the motion, and Swiss laughs fondly.

“What’s got you so worked up sweet thing?”

The question registered slowly but he realized Swiss was reaching for his phone in an instant. His hand shot out to snatch it up first, but Swiss was faster. Lavender burned deep in his cheeks when the multi ghoul hummed curiously. Those dark eyes lit up and Rain shrunk back into his seat. He didn't need to see the screen to picture the video behind his eyelids, the sound alone is enough to make his body bear down around his digits. He’d watched it enough times to have it fucking memorized, reliving the moment, savoring every minute detail. Rain whimpered aloud as the image crept back into his brain.

Him and Dew perched up on the edge of the stage, the fire ghoul’s hand abandoning its position on his guitar to wander over the subtle curve of his chest. Mapping out the little valley between his tits as his hand snaked its way to its rightful place. As if reliving it, Rain tips his head back in the same fashion. Baring his throat to the bite of his glamored nails in broad daylight, a mockery to the very light God cast over the earth to indulge in an act best saved for the depravity traditionally kept to the shadows.

He could feel the same sinful longing for something sharper to press into his skin

"Oh…Oh, you're kidding, right doll? You're not fucking serious-" His eyes don't leave the screen as he smirks. "You're such a fucking narcissist." He let out a bark of laughter that somehow only stoked the fire in his belly.

"I'm not a narcissist!" Rain attempted to bite back but his voice pitched, unable to break himself or his fingers from the rhythmic pace moving in and out. It's hard to sound angry, let alone firm, when he could only focus on the sound of him fucking into himself. Only proving Swiss' point further.

"Oh honey," eyes flick up and down over the sight of him. His gaze burns heavy over his skin, and Rain could swear he could feel his flush creeping down his chest. "You got so worked up, so wet, over a video of yourself." The tail still firmly wrapped around his leg tugged his thighs further apart. A full display of his conceited desires. Rain couldn't bring himself to try to hide, he liked the way Swiss' attention swept over him too much. "A video of yourself getting choked on stage, fucking pathetic."

Rain could only muster up a whine.

"Does Dew even squeeze when he gets those little hands around your throat? Or are you just so easy that he doesn't have to put in the effort, do you just fold when he grabs you like that sweetheart?" Swiss leans off the edge of the desk, encroaching on the little space there had been between them. His voice dropped to something softer, secretive, just as demeaning. "So my eyes don't deceive me during practice…Your knees shake like a fawn when he reaches for you, you know. Not even trying to be subtle, are you love?"

The water ghoul averted his gaze, fixed his attention anywhere but Swiss and that horrible Cheshire smile. He ended up staring at the space between his legs once again, and the sight of his palm grinding down on his fat little clit with every crook of his fingers was fucking entrancing. He didn't want to look back up.

"Hey, narcissus, too caught up in watching yourself to realize you're drooling?"

Swiss grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked, forcing his face up again. It was the nail in the coffin, Rain couldn't deny the haze settling behind his eyes. Judging by the way Swiss looked at him, he recognized it too. He didn't release the curls wrapped around his fingers, only twisted them tighter. If his mouth hadn't already fallen open, it would've then and there.

"Talk to me princess, know you love to run that pretty mouth - love the sound of your own voice. Tell me what you've got going on in that ditzy little head."

"I," Rain began but cut himself off with a choked out sound, the tips of his fingers finding the spot that made his mind stutter. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it."

"Really? You're still capable of thinking when you're this wet?"

Argument found its way to the tip of his tongue but the words did not follow. He could only manage a groan as he continued to pet over his inner walls.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” Swiss traced a finger along his jaw, up the side of his face, and tapped his finger against the water ghoul’s temple. “Pretty boy, you just get real stupid once something’s inside you…”

Rain whimpered despite trying to muffle the sound. It wasn't far off from the truth, he'd felt his grip slipping ever since he'd started working himself open. Hard to think straight when he's drunk off self pleasure.

"Tell me."

"Wanted," Rain swallowed thickly after his breath hitched "wished Dew would've kept going, kept choking me…Kept showing me off." His eyelids felt heavy, that familiar warm and fuzzy feeling filling him from toe to tip. "Would've done whatever he asked with his fingers around my neck like that, right there on that stage, anything."

"What a good boy."

“We looked so good together.” I looked so good. “People were jealous.”

"Jealous of you or Droplet?"

"Nn…Of Dew, jealous that he could touch me."

They were all staring at me, they wanted me, wanted to be allowed to have something so beautiful in their hands.

"You're so pretty, baby."

"I'm…I'm pretty." Rain nodded the best he could with the hand still in his hair, a self satisfied smile spreading over his face. Surely it looked dopey, but he was too far under to care. "Soo…so pretty, fuck, 'm close."

"Not yet, don't think you've relished in yourself enough yet Rainbow. Don't cum just yet."

The mutli ghoul pulled him away by the wrist and he nearly sobbed at the loss of stimulation. Suddenly empty. He was limp in Swiss' grasp, and was moved easily. Swiss pressed his own slick coated fingers into his mouth, the other ghoul's thicker digits curled in over his as if guiding him. Accommodating four fingers slowly petting over his tongue made his jaw ache but it didn't stop Rain from melting.

His eyes rolled back at the generous taste of himself. Salty, and downright addicting. He'd tasted himself a thousand times before, gotten drunk off his own arousal more than he cared to admit, but it didn't stop him from going brainless. It only made him drip.

"That's it," Swiss cooed. "Bet you wish you could see yourself, fuck, bet you love to watch yourself…Like it more than being watched, don't you?" Rain nodded lazily, drool trickling down his chin as he unabashedly lapped at their fingers in his mouth. "Should take a video of you like this. I'm sure all those jealous people would love to see you like this, what do you think?"

Another nod.

“I wonder if they think about you as much as you think of yourself, Rainbow. Does it make you wet thinking about your fans getting off on the idea of you?” A sinfully wanton cry escaped him, strangled around them both. "Oh but nobody thinks about you as much as you think about yourself."

He did his best to shake his head but Swiss didn't let him move much.

"You need more baby?"

"Please-" he sounded stupid, pleathe. Laughable, and yet his clit throbbed. He loved the sound of himself like this. Dumb and horny.

"How about I let you bounce yourself on my cock while you keep watching Dew show you off? You can tell me all about how good it felt, how much you love when everyone screams for you."

Rain couldn't even spare the thought process to nod, moaning loud and shamelessly at the idea. Too loud for a hotel as nice as this, and it was only the start. They'd be scolded in the morning and he couldn't be bothered to care.

#void writing #writing #spicy tag #rulti #rain/swiss #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #ghost the band

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chocoblep · 1 year ago

Text

#9: Scars

M’rath stretched out on top of the coverlet on his belly, his hands linked below his cheek. There was a familiar weight on the bed next to his waist; his chief of staff, gently seated on the bed’s edge.

“Did you ever think that it would turn out like this?” The half-hyur was tracing his bare fingertips over Rath’s exposed back, each delicate touch a reminder of the scar that lay beneath it. There were many of them; a network of mostly faded stripes that he’d had since his teenage years. Before Illian had discovered them, they had been much more visible, and even the twisting snake tattoo that ran up the length of his spine and curled along his back wasn’t enough to hide them from a casual glance.

But Illian, bless his big, beautiful heart, had developed a concoction that had, over the years, minimized the appearance of the scars so that they only glinted faintly in certain light conditions, and otherwise stayed mostly invisible but for the slightest difference in smoothness where scar met unmarred flesh. And he’d done it without provocation, on the premise that it wasn’t right that he had to bear those stripes for all these years for no other reason than that his master had decided he needed them when he was young.

He’d even told Illian what had happened to his old master, what he’d done to secure his own life. What he’d promised himself would never come to pass again, for him or for those he cared for. And the man had only gathered him into his arms in the privacy of his own quarters and told him in no uncertain terms that he was the strongest man he’d ever met.

Willful, perhaps. Cruel, at times. Angry, jaded, and weary, often. But strong? Please, he’d said. It’s unbecoming to lie to a man like that. But it wasn’t a lie. He’d known that when Illian had opened his mind to him. It had baffled him then, and it still baffled him now.

“My scars?” M’rath murmured, turning his head so that his other cheek rested on his hands and his particolored eyes regarded the man next to him. “No. I knew they would fade with age, but I never imagined that a smart man might try to make them disappear altogether.” A lazy smile pulled at his lips as Illian snorted and reached for the pot of cream on his bedside table.

“A smart man might have avoided you,” Illian said, blue eyes focused on Rath’s shoulders. “I am not a smart man. And that was not what I was referring to, anyway. I meant this. All of this.”

“All of this?” Rath echoed. “No. Everything that has happened up to this point has been a mixture of luck and circumstance.”

“Mmmn, I will respectfully agree to disagree.”

“How else do you explain a loyal staff? If anything, that is your doing, not mine.”

“Is it?” Illian asked, and Rath hissed briefly as he felt the cold cream make contact with his back. “If I were to ask any one of your staff why they are loyal to you, they would give me three answers: Good pay, good living conditions, and a good heart. You pulled most of them out of very bad situations. Why would they not adore you?”

“They don’t know what I can do, or what I do in the places they are not allowed to wander.”

“I do. I still don’t think you are the monster you make yourself out to be when you look in the mirror.”

The feeling of Illian’s hands rubbing the cream into his skin has his eyes drifting closed and his tail settling finally against his thigh with naught but a lazy flick of the tip every now and again. When his voice sounded, it was tired. “Well, you’re welcome to think what you think. Not a smart man, indeed.”

Rath made a sound as Illian smacked him between the shoulderblades, and then laughed.

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #Story #M'rath Tia #Illian Runetide #Prompt 9 #Fair

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quillusquillus · 2 months ago

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Thanks for the template, unetherian! I've never done one of these I think, should be interesting. non-community members are going to learn SO much about my weird animal brain stuff today lmao

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

If pressed I'll say otherkin (or dragonkin), but everybody's so damn scary about terms and conditions I just don't touch any of them if possible. I call my various selves "personas" and I used to identify as therian a long time ago before I realised it was more complicated than a single animal association. By default I categorise as "plural" as well I think, but again the terms policing in that community is scary and I don't have DID and would like to respect the spaces of those who do, so I stay away from jargon lol

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

"the dragon" (it/she/he)- green scaled japanese dragon with orange mane, associated with small slow-flowing rivers, emotion, and knowledge. This is my "everyday" persona, and who you will generally be talking to online since it's also my social persona!

"SeaDog" (he)- deep sea shark that learned how to shapeshift and uses the shapes of apex predators (white shark, big cat, human mainly) to be a big monster or a big monster guy. Kind of a dick? Doesn't care about the same things as the dragon, more focused, more ruthless, has claimed the kitchen and the bed as "his" spaces which should tell you everything I think.

These two are the main guys, usually I would add a third but that one is really in flux right now so uh erm call back later? In addition to these 2-3 there are a few less frequent personas (The Eagle, Snake, etc.) and various "deeper" entities that are more representational or symbolic and aren't entire like, personality subsets.

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

The secondary root of my alterhumanity and the reason I started trying to express it into shapes with names was due to phantom shifts (when you feel body parts that aren't there). I think its only a "shift" if it's the entire body, which DOES happen and can be extremely overwhelming and stops me from doing anything for the next like 15 mins. Partial shifts or "phantom limbs" are a constant, everyday on-off thing for me though! For the dragon it's my scales and my tail mostly, but also snout, teeth, whiskers, tongue, ears, talons, and sometimes horns. For Dog it's mainly claws, gills, teeth, and muscle mass, but also skin, breath, genitals, eyes (or lack thereof), drool, and occasionally scent for some reason (ocean boy stinky)

I generally don't pay attention to cameo shifts (when you feel like you briefly become something unexpected like a totally new thing or a pop media fictional character), but I know they do happen and aren't uncommon. I have a naturally very strong imagination so if I counted everything I "turn into" when I think or feel strongly about it that's a lot of stuff lol - I can't recall any that were particularly strange, but that's more because I forgor than evidence that I've never had a surprising one lol

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

Aforementioned perpetual phantom limbage. Also the PRIMARY root of my alterhumanity (to me) is my autism so like, if you're conflating those two things then the alterhumanity is literally built into my brain and affects everything I do. Human society both is a wondrous grand and complex mystery and a terrifying set of laws that have to be obeyed, my natural impulses to yawp and scurry and isolate and stare and snarl and behave in ways counter to them aren't accepted as "human"; so to me they are animal, or monstrous.

5/ What do you think of the community?

Too many damn words for this stuff. Just say how you feel, man, this isn't science.

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Just getting to be myself, whatever that means. I'm also very very lucky to have a little community of friends who understand or at least accept this weirdness, and that's extremely heartwarming and meaningful to me

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

This body is a joke. Disgusting pile of hamburger meat I have to slap into the crudest facsimile of who and what I am on a weary, grueling daily basis. so yeah that's a yes lol

Recently I've actually found comfort in imagining my body around me without skin or fat, just the raw purity of bloody muscle and sinew and organs and bone that can no longer be mentally categorized by others observing me as [insert list of incorrect human societal traits here] and connects me instead to every other living thing that is also made of meat this way

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Don't sweat it. Get to know yourself gently like a wild animal or a new best friend, you have the time, there's no rush. Also, time will change you: I've been this way since early childhood and I'm in my mid 30's now and I've gone through so much. My personas have changed with me and that's perfectly normal and okay, you don't need to be afraid of it.

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

Since my personas aren't really the typical carnivora kind that could be expressed with a partial fursuit/kemonomimi-type look it's a little harder for me, but over the years I have made many related costume props and masks and stuff! (especially claws. so many claws). These days I use symbolic items (like pendants) more than costumes that attempt to replicate phantom parts, mainly for convenience, practicality, and social acceptability lol. I have thought about getting gill tattoos but.. man. neck tattoos. 8I

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

The 'tism, obviously, as described above, but other than that ???? no clue, man. brains are weird.

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

naw go nuts though

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

#me #headstuff #persona stuff

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nqify · 2 years ago

Note

I saw ur submissive reader and OMG GIRL IMAGINE THE OPPOSITE, like human!reader being bratty n' teasing all day like using mini skirts (in public), letting other guys flirt with you, being all bubbly and shi infront of other guys, and the whole situation turns into navi!miles brat taming you (imagine him with a spanking kink too)

AND ALSO HIM SAYING STUFF LIKE "whats with sniffling cupcake, didnt you ask for this?" While the reader is literally being fucked dumb

Also have a great day!!

YESYEYSYES!!!! BEEN NEEDING TO WRITE THIS!!

so many ppl have actually requested brat taming!miles or brat!reader so Ima combined all those requests into this one if y’all alright with that!!

brat taming. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. brat tamer.na’vi!miles quaritch. brat.fem!reader

content warnings. spanking. little bit of sir kink. daddy kink ofc.

note. this kinda like sadist!quaritch but WITH MORE DETAIL AAAAAAA

as much as miles would love his s/o to be submissive and listen to every word he says, he also likes being challenged. the way you talk back to him or even ignore his requests rlly gets this man GOING!!!

It’s the simple things! he’d ask you, “sweets, grab that book for me yeah?” you just look at him dead in the face and say, “get it yourself, you have legs don’t you?” nah why is he getting turned on.

you’d test the waters a bit, constantly being a brat around miles to see if he breaks!! you’d try your hardest, letting lyle touch you, laughing at his jokes a little to hard and constantly compliment him.

you could see miles at the corner of your eye, hes looking at you, a lustful angry look is spread across his face. His ears low and his tail swaying side to side. You smirk, you’ve won!!!!

you’d be alone in a room and he’d come running, “you think ur funny huh?” His arms would be crossed, leaning his body against the door frame. “wdym, miles?” acting as clueless as ever. “dont get all dumb with me mama, I know exactly what your doing” his tone is stern. you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know what ur talking about” yeah you hit a nerve.

He’d walk up to you. “you better cut the shit baby, I’m giving you one more chance” ur not breaking. ur still acting clueless, like wtf r u saying daddy??

oh he is pissed now. he’d grab your throat, squeezing down and blocking your air pip, “such a fucking stupid baby, you’d do anything to get dicked down wouldn’t you?” your hand is placed on his wrist, your shaking ur head like NO!!!!! but yeah u right

“cmon baby, I know you would, say it cmon, say it and maybe you’ll punishment won’t be so bad” UR NOT SAYING SHIT!!!!

he’d release the hand from ur throat, “ur ass better be in my room in 5, u hear me mama???” yes daddy.

ur RUNNING to his room, the dick too good girl fr. You sit on the bed, nervously biting your nails and questioning everything you’ve done. Was it rlly worth making miles so worked up??? (Yes)

you hear the door open, shit GIRL RUN!!!! this mf rlly chuckling like he walks in and starts laughing at you. “strip”, ur stunned, “w-what?”, “you heard what I said, strip baby” u r RUSHING to get ur clothes off. You’d get to ur panties and miles is like, “uh uh, keep those on for me” anything for u daddy!!!

”want u on all fours mama, ass up in the air for me” and ofc u did!!! you could feel his presence behind you, he’d grab your ass and squeeze the FUCK outta it. and the BOOM SPANK!! ur shocked asf!! “you’d think id let the shit u did slide baby?? uh uh, gonna have to fuck u dumb” GIRL HAVE FUN WITH THAT!!!!

he spanks you again, “how many spanks do u deserve baby?” you shrug, “I-I don’t know” he smiling a little omg. “10 it is then”

SPANK SPANK SPANK!!!! over and over again this mf hitting ur ass till it’s red asf!! ur whining and complaining, “please miles I’ll behave now!! it hurts” he is not taking that. “shut the fuck up slut, ur taking this wether u like it or not, u hear me??” Yes I hear u daddy.

he slaps ur ass one more time before snaking his hand down to ur pussy. He rubs ur clothed clit just a little, to tease you. “look at this pussy baby, u think u deserve to cum??” U nod ur head. He leans down to where his chest is hitting ur back, “u r so fucking dumb” omg…..degrading!miles!!!

this mf is pounding into you from behind, his thrusts are hard and so so deep!! his reaching all the right places. this guy making u think you’ve won. NAH UH!!! like ur about to cum, fluttering around his dick when he stops, pulls your body up, back hitting his chest and say some shit like, “ur so fucking stupid baby, u rlly think Ima let you cum? U think daddy is gonna let his stupid little slut cum after what she did huh baby???” Your whimpered, clawing at his hands on ur hips. Def gonna leave some bruises, “answer me”, “I-I’m sorry sir!!! pls, let me c-cum I’ll do anything” he LAUGHING!!

”oh so ur sorry now huh?? u weren’t so sorry before when u were practically eye fucking lyle??” girl I feel sorry for u. “u want him to fuck u?? u want him to take this pussy and call it his mama??” U shake ur head no, letting out small cries as he begins to buck his hips into urs, “Yeah that’s right, cuz this dick to good huh mama?? this dick makes u so so stupid doesn’t it??” YEAH IT DOES

he flips you over to were ur now facing him, his hands immediately touch ur bottom lip, “open” HE SPITS IN UR MOUTH OMF. “swallow baby, lemme see” u swallow and open ur mouth again, “now ur listening, good girl”

hes being so harsh on you, his hands are digging into ur hips, his thrust are hard and his kisses are quick and dry. girl u are crying. Tears begin to travel down ur cheeks and miles just scoffs.

“what’s with the sniffling princess?? u asked for this didn’t you?? You wanted daddy to fuck u till u go all dumb over his cock right??” u can’t seem to find the words to answer, u just open ur mouth and hope for the best. Moans and whines escape ur throat. he’d won. “yeah look at you, so fucked out all from my big dick, c’mere give daddy a kiss” he leans down and softly kisses ur lips. this kiss was a different tho, it wasn’t quick, it was slow and passionate. His tongue was exploding every inch of ur cave.

Girl he is moaning into ur mouth. little, “mms” or “a-ah fuck” are COMING FROM THIS MANS THROAT AS YALL KISS. it’s driving u mad and his knows it. He pulls away, you whine in response. HES IN AWE “u finally gonna be a good girl for me??, u gonna stop being a brat and let daddy be in charge??” yes ofc omg

”Y-yes daddy!! pls l-let me cum!! wanna cum so b-bad!!” ur begging for him girlomg. he smirks down at u, pleased that his punishment is working. “cmon say it mama, say you’ll be a good girl”, “I’ll be a g-good girl!! I promise p-please!! so close” HE FINALLY BROKE U OMG!!!!

he could feel u fluttering around him more and more, “much better, cum for me baby, you’ve been a good girl” GIRL EXPLODING!!!!!!

nah but why is this the worse thing I have ever written.

requests are officially closed!! only for a few days so I can get this requests out!! if ur request hasn’t been done in that time frame it is either bc writers block, not enough information or smth I would NEVER WRITE LIKE😨😨😨

#miles quaritch smut #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar smut #na’vi quaritch #na’vi smut #na’vi

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oralbedo · 3 years ago

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🩰 nsfw tighnari hcs (just smth quick, i’ll probably think of more for him >_<)

+ ˚ 🐇 cw: breeding, biting, mild dom/sub dynamics

˚✧⁎⁺˳✧༚ nsfw below the cut ˚✧⁎⁺˳✧༚

☼ sensitive ears

ngl his ears were questionable for me at first but now i think they’re the cutest thing ever they’re so big omg. i just know they’re so sensitive and he probably shivers when you touch them. if you straddle his lap and play with his hair and give him a little kiss on the ears he will absolutely melt into you. but he especially likes them touched during sex: tug him by his ears while he’s eating you out and he’ll go feral, whimpering into your cunt as he laps you up desperately. if you nip them softly while riding him he’ll cum instantly :’)

☼ speaking of cum, he has a breeding kink for sure

tbh, are they really a hybridman if they don’t go into heat? if he’s anything like albedo i’d imagine he’s typically shy, too; he also seems like the submissive type who lets you take the lead, but when it’s breeding season? he can’t keep his hands off you, coming up behind you while you’re cooking or smth, wrapping his tail around your torso while his hands snake up your shirt and he’s kissing softly at your neck to get your attention. when you don’t immediately acknowledge him (which only makes him more crazy) he’ll rut into you gently, whining and moaning bc he needs your help cause it’s that time, and he won’t be able to focus on anything until he fills his pretty girl up with his babies.

“please, baby? you know how i get, please just let me do it once, that’s all i swear”

ofc he lasts several rounds, but you have no interest in stopping him when he’s tearing orgasms out of you every 3 minutes <3

☼ bitingggg

he loves biting, he loves being bit. under all those layers is a roadmap of all the hickeys and bite marks you leave on him because every time you pull away he’s whining for one more, just one more, please pretty baby, and how could you refuse when he sounds so needy, watching you with his big green eyes as if you were a goddess on earth. he’s a biter too, he’ll sometimes opt for a quick nip on your lip instead of a kiss before he’s off to work. his favorite place to bite you, besides the parts of your body that are easy to see so you can show off his handiwork, is the soft flesh of your inner thighs while he eats you out. he’ll spend what feels like forever leaving hickeys trailing to your pussy just to hear you moan and beg for him to give you what you want, he loves teasing you until you take control.

#🩰#tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari smut #genshin smut #genshin

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catboys-need-milk · 3 years ago

Text

Lactation Kink Headcanons For Levi ~ ♡

(He looks so hot here, what the fuck )

☆TW: look there's a lot goin' on here—breastfeeding the otaku, monsterfucking vibes, weird demon tongue, tail fucking, I subscribe to the theory that Levi has two cocks, no gendered terms but use of the word "breast/s"

SORRY IF IT GETS TOO WEIRD AAAAAAAA

Omg omg I feel so dirtyyy writing this ahhhh im gonna cryyyyy..........uh...well.....enjoy~ 🥴🥲

♡ Levi is a pervert—though, buried under many layers of embarrassment, shame, and self-hatred

♡ Did you assume Levi got into lactation kink stuff because of hentai? Cool, because you'd totally be right. His favorites are the ones where people are getting milked by tentacles and stuff. He also really loves the ones where the guy is getting a nursing-handjob. Like he wants that so bad (and you can give it to him! ♡)

♡ He'd never tell you about that on his own though. The only way you'd ever even find out he does have a breastfeeding kink is because he left a hentai tab or something open on his computer

♡ He'll only do it with you when you both are completely alone, with no risk of anyone seeing or walking in. On those late nights when the two of you are up playing videogames, or binging a new anime

♡ And even after he's done this with you several times, he's still super embarrassed about it. Always turning into a blushing mess the second he lays his head in your lap, covering his face as if to hide from your gentle gaze

♡ You have to place your breast against his mouth first—giving him "permission"—because he's always just too nervous and ashamed of himself to make the first move

♡ He'll also keep asking for your consent (especially at first), reaffirming that you're still okay with all this ".....is....i-is this still okay....?"

♡ Levi has a very peculiar tongue, not unlike a snake's—dark purple and smooth, long, ending in a fork that tapers into two thin tips. He can also move the tips of the fork independently of each other, which is useful in many ways, as you might imagine~

♡ This odd tongue shape also means that he can't, well, latch onto your breast in the same way as someone with a normal tongue would. Rather, he uses the sticky, tendril-like forked tips of it to cinch around you n*pple, using the little appendages to squeeze your milk out into his mouth

♡ It does look very bizarre if he moves his lips away for a moment and you see it. But try not to freak out and make any sort of shocked noise. He may interpret that as disgust or disapproval, and may suddenly become very ashamed and panic

♡ Its easy to tell when he's starting to feel more comfortable and relaxed though, because he always shifts into demon form. Its unclear if he does this intentionally or if he just does it unconsciously, perhaps as a response to this level of intimacy

♡ Touch and pet his horns while he suckles from you please?? That kind of attention when he's in demon form is especially important to Levi. It shows that you love and accept him in the truest form of who he is

♡ Whisper to him, and tell him how cute/handsome he is. He really doesn't hear it often enough

♡ He'll make use of his tail, using it to grope and squeeze your other breast, or perhaps using it to pull aside the cloth covering your heat, before slowly slipping it up into your tight entrance

♡ He loves to look up at you while his mouth is full of your milk, watching your eyes water and your cheeks flush bright red, hearing your whimpers as his tail squirms around deep up inside your body—as far as it'll go (or at least as far as you'll let him)

♡ It gets both his cocks just so fucking hard. You can feel just how excited it makes him too, the way the pinching around your teat becomes tighter as he starts to rut one of his cocks up into his own hand, the other left twitching and leaking for your attention~

Looking for more Obey Me lactation kink headcanons and stuff? Check out my Masterlist

I always get so nervous when i post these 😅

(๑ↀᆺↀ๑)

#anyways ive been listening to Mystery Skulls a lot recently #i haven't really listened to them for a few years but man they're music is just sooo good #my 3 favorite songs are Ghost and The Future and Money #i feel like Ghost would be great for Obey Me edits idk why #but i feel it in my SOUL #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me smut #obey me levi smut #obey me headcanons #obey me lemon #obey me levi x reader #om! levi #om! leviathan #om! lemon #obey me x reader #obey me levi headcanons #leviachan #catboys-need-milk

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

Note

I finished reading the last chapter for Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus, and it was good. Though I wouldn't be opposed to seeing an alternate ending where the Reader lives with Morpheus in the Dreaming and they get their happy ending.

Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus - ALTERNATIVE ENDING

[Check out the full series] | Sandman-inspired playlist | 🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

[...]

"Hugo!" you exclaimed. Unable to stop yourself from reaching for the missed pet, you crouched the moment you saw his red fur. "I never thought I'd see you again, you little fiery menace! I was barely six when we bid our farewells."

The feline only meowed again and bumped its small head against your leg. Curiously, he didn't leave paw prints on the white, cold sand. Too busy at the exciting reunion, you never noticed Death's slightly furrowed eyebrows as she stared at the cat. What was it doing there?

Scratching Hugo's chin and head, you noticed something strange about his pendant: it didn't read 'Hugo' anymore, although you knew it did the day he passed away. Instead of his name gracing the small metal plate, there were tally marks - seven, to be exact. You could only wonder what kind of trouble that fearless, silly friend had gotten into since the last time you saw him.

"Seven already?" you asked the pet despite not expecting him to answer. "You have two more left, my friend. Use them wisely."

But Hugo only stared at you with his big, yellowish-green eyes. He sat on the pavement on the boulevard and meowed loudly but not at you:

"You can't keep doing this, Hugo," Death warned the cat as if the deafening meow could actually mean something else than a cry for attention. He only whined again, the tip of his tail moved slightly as though it was a snake ready to pounce. "Alright, one last time."

The orange tabby got up from the cold pavement and trotted towards Morpheus who was still sitting on the white sand with your corpse leaning against him. Perhaps, when his grief subdues he'd realize the awful macabre of that moment but for now, he was drawing out the sensation of something he will never feel again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Morpheus noticed an orange, furry cat. There was a certain excitement or curiosity to its trot. It stopped by your leg, or rather your body's leg, and nuzzled against it, purring ever so loudly. At first, he wanted to chase it away, to stop some flea-bitten stray from touching you but he found himself unable to do anything. Each of his limbs was so weighty, he couldn't move even if he had wanted to. Perhaps his heart was too heavy now for Morpheus to ever leave his spot on the white, cold sand by the murky seawater. In some way, he didn't even want to move: there was no place he could go where this hole inside him would become full again.

You watched the scene from afar until a strange feeling took over your form. Ghosts aren't supposed to experience bodily sensations, are they? Suddenly, a freezing coldness embraced you. A tingling ran through your fingertips but you couldn't move them anymore.

"What's happening?" you asked nervously as you stared at your disappearing hands. Is this what death truly is? A human-shaped mist that dissolves into oblivion?

"Hugo and his charity," Death answered in a tone both fascinated and tired.

It took merely a blink of an eye for you to find yourself back on the white sand and not standing on the concrete boulevard. A hungered, desperate gasp ripped out of your chest, clearly startling Morpheus, who hadn't moved even by an inch.

For a moment, the two of you were looking at each other as if you were seeing your faces for the very first time, surprised at the unforeseen meeting. "How is this possible?" Dream asked in a wavering voice. His eyes were still red but he was no longer crying. Perhaps, he already couldn't.

Hugo forced his pleasantly fluffy head underneath your palm. You looked towards him only to notice something fascinating yet odd: instead of seven tally marks on his pendant, there were eight - he only had one more life left. But by looking at Hugo, you also saw your own hand that he so frantically brushed against. There were no marks on your skin, no sign of a terrifying curse counting your days short.

"The thing about kindness, my lovely Morpheus," you spoke as you turned to look at him again but not in surprise this time; your gaze remained ever so kind and loving, just the way he deserved, "is that it always comes back."

Barely finishing your sentence, you felt his lips touch yours. His skin felt strangely cold but in an unpleasant way. To think you would have left without ever feeling it! Morpheus's kiss was the loudest confession he could have given you, filled with passion and desperation you had never felt before. In that impulsive moment of intimacy, he ripped himself open for you to see.

Cold winter wind brushed against your lips when he pulled away. His face, however, remained at a flustering close distance. "Then let me return yours," he whispered.

Dream's hand firmly grabbed yours. Once again, a tornado of sand circled the two of you. What was once a small town of Southend-on-sea, became a gigantic palace, a true castle, of marble halls and crystal ceilings. It looked nostalgic in its unbearable emptiness as if it had been forgotten by its rightful master, forever haunted by dreams of tomorrows that never came.

To your collective surprise, a quiet meow echoed through the spacious palace. Sure enough, an orange hitchhiker revealed himself. "I did not invite you," Morpheus spoke in a stern voice.

But Hugo paid no attention to the Lord of Dreaming. With his tail standing up straight, he wandered off.

Watching the fiery cat disappear around the corner, undoubtedly on his way to wreak havoc in Dream's kingdom, you recalled the strange moment that preceded your miraculous resurrection. "There's one thing about Hugo I can't quite understand. He brushed against my legs but he is alive and I was a ghost. It makes me think about all the occasions when he meowed or stared at empty corners in my father's mansion. I wonder what he saw there - who he saw there."

As if hearing his own name being mentioned, the cat made its existence known: Jessamy shrieked loudly in the distance.

"Speaking of wonders," Morpheus began as he meaningfully extended his elbow towards you. Without hesitation, you grabbed it. "You should see your new home."

He led you through the palace halls of light and pastel colours. The high ceilings made you think of a cathedral but Morpheus never once appeared to you as a creature that demanded worship. The grandiosity of his home was undoubtedly regal, even emanated appropriate coldness. The spaciousness created a sharp-sounding, loud echo that made you constantly feel like you should look over your shoulder to check for an unwanted follower. In some strange way, you suspected the interior of his palace was a genuine representation of Dream's heart: pearly and crystal, waiting to be inhabited but turning unwelcoming in its involuntary emptiness.

After a long while of walking in silence, you decided to speak up about something that's been bothering you throughout the entire chateau. "Can I share a reflection about the decor?"

Morpheus turned his face to you. "Do you not like it?" he asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"It's quite bleak if I may say so." Maybe he was the lord of this place but if you were to take him up on his offer of Dreaming being your new home, you had to be honest with him. And, just maybe, he could do with a little change too. "The hall could use some bold colours... Poinsettias, perhaps? Yes, they'd look lovely in here."

And suddenly, his every thought was sprouting poinsettias.

And here's the happy ending!

Tagging people who were interested in a follow-up: @rosaren2498 @jessiboobdbdb @chantzmar @lexi-anastasia @bisexualunicronrunningloose @farintonorth @oo0lady-mad0oo@all-bi-myselfs-blog @piperstofu101 @magic-magnoliaa @kotonei-molyneux @wheresmyboo @supermegapauselouca @sloanexx @rockergirl57 @aizawa-emma @ruyi-years @commanderfreethatdust @sapphireonline @izzicle@mxxny-lupin @shadowluna25 @aralezinspace

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aka-indulgence · 3 years ago

Text

Jewel of jewels

In which the reader (if you choose to step into the self-insert shoes) gets abducted by a dragon.

I’m. I’m just a fan of “dragon steals you to make you part of his treasure hoard” idea sfhjsdks

(Male dragon, female reader)

AKA the rare original idea (meaning: not fandom related, also actually not rare because I think about original ideas too but this is one time I have the motivation to actually write it)

---

...

The ground... it feels hard. Your body aches a little. You groan a little as you touch your back. And is that rock under you?

You open your eyes a little, slowly becoming as wide as saucers as you take in the environment around you. Quickly, you push yourself off the ground to look, ignoring the slight scratches on your hands as they push against small pebbles.

You’re... in a cave?

It’s enormous, giant stalagmites and stalactites in the distance. Somehow, the cave seems to be illuminated by something, and it feels warm in here.

You move again, startling when you knock into something, turning to see... coins?

Gold coins littered around you, the emblem on them unfamiliar to you. You even see some other shiny things in the scarce piles around you (that no doubt had more value than your home), necklaces, rings...?

You stand up, walking towards the light source, where the ceilings are patterned with golden shimmering... only to immediately stumble, falling forwards on your hands. You were on the ledge, high above the ground of the cavern you see, but also:

The cave was brimming with gold, jewels, ornaments- treasure far grander than you could’ve ever imagined. There were mountains of coins, some a different color. You can see the twinkling of different jewels, red, green, blue, even one that seemed to have the colors of the rainbow.

You could barely see the cavern floors, that’s how much treasure you saw.

“W... what?” you say, your echo fading away, your voice too small to fill the cave- the size of which made you goosebump. “Where...? How? Why?”

You step back, your head spinning. You look behind, and it seems this ledge is jutting out of the cave walls- there’s nowhere to go.

“Why.... am I here...?” you say, your voice small. You can’t seem to remember anything-

“Princess...”

You scream, falling on your back. The voice was so immense, it felt as if the cave shook with it. You could feel it vibrating through the ground as something warm washed over you.

You turn to look- and what you saw struck such fear into your heart that any sound you would’ve made froze.

Near the back of the ledge, you were staring into large amber and red eyes, its gaze piercing you.

“You seem speechless, my dear.”

He had dark scales, armored plating covering his body. It shimmered slightly, reflecting the gold. You were as tall as his snout, and his blades for teeth were as big as your torso. He had ridged, wavy horns that pointed backwards from his head. Huge folded wings. You can’t see exactly how large his body was (you were too petrified to even think of going near the ledge to check), but you could see his forked tail in the distance, swishing back and forth almost playfully like a snake, the sound of gentle whipping in the air.

You think it was safe to say he’s giant.

The dragon chuckles, the sound like a rumbling volcano.

“Do you like what you see, princess?”

You finally find the urgency to move again when the dragon brings his head closer to you, the small movement making the earth shake.

You shuffle backwards as fast as you could, sentences failing to form.

“Wh-what, who?!”

Your fingers feel cold, your face feels cold. You scream again when something big thuds behind you, the dragon having put his claws behind you, stopping you from moving any further.

The dragon shook his head. You could see his horrid teeth forming a menacing grin. “I can see you are frightened, poor little thing. To answer your question, I am a dragon, and I’ve brought you to my lair. Don’t you remember the mountains...?”

The mountains?

The mountains...

...

It was a nice sunny day. Clouds dotting the skies.

A group of villagers decided to search for the “Dragon’s Hoard”, a legend no doubt been spoken about countless time, not just in your village. There were rumors that one of legends was in a mountain near the village. A foolish knight had come and gathered a group of men to go with him on this quest, including someone you knew.

“No, please, just come back home!”

Your childhood friend, bless his soul, was always the one to look for adventure, no matter what sort of trouble he might’ve gotten into. It was almost like he was testing the reaper himself. Dragon or no dragon, you knew the quest was too dangerous even for knights. If there was no dragon, the mountain will surely prove to be too grueling for everyone involved. Yes, the people of your village have scaled it... but never past a point.

“This could be big for us! We’ll no longer be a simple village, we’ll be richer than kings and queens, haha!”

“That won’t happen if you lose your life! Please just come home! If it truly is a dragon’s hoard, you surely won’t live long enough for the treasure to matter!”

Despite your own words, you followed them just past the point your people usually ventured. The knight had found you annoying, evidently, and while the people from your village defended you, they also insisted on pressing on.

“Then what are you going to do about the dragon, Mr. Knight? Are you going to vanquish it with your needle?”

“Peasant woman, you don’t know how us knights have been trained. We know how to kill an oversized beast.”

And then the unthinkable happened.

A large shadow had emerged from behind the mountain. No one realized what it was until it was too late.

“D... DRAGON-!!”

No one even had the time to prepare. In the moment a village man shouted the word, he was upon you. A roar that cracked the skies made everyone freeze in their spots, and then...

And then all you could remember was screaming, as the ground receded further and further away from you as you were taken ever higher.

The... the dragon... he took you.

“Ah. So you do remember me after all.”

The dragon’s slit pupils tightened a bit, locking onto the small movement of you bringing your knees closer to your chest, as you try to shrink as best you could.

“W... why...” your voice felt quieter than a whisper after the dragon spoke. “Why have you brought me here, oh great dragon?”

The dragon made a sort of growling sound- if you thought his voice shook you, the sounds coming from deep in his throat was an earthquake. He blows a small ring of smoke around you.

“I know you have heard dragon stories, little one.” the dragon hummed. “Surely, you know the one where the dragon keeps the princess in the tower...?”

You have. But that doesn’t explain anything to you.

“Yes... but I-I’m not a princess...”

You see more of his white teeth exposed. Is that... a smirk?

“Oh my dear, did something happen to you while you were asleep? First you forget who I am, the next you don’t realize you’re a princess... whatever am I to do with a cute little thing like you?”

“Y-you must be mistaken!” You try to explain. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else. I-I’m not a princess. I live in a village near the mountain. I’m not the princess you seek, I’m sorry...”

The dragon seems to pause for a moment, as if taking in the information.

Oh no... have you disappointed him with the truth-?

“You are the one who’s mistaken, princess.” The dragon purrs. It sounded like he... seems to have taken a liking to you? “Aren’t princesses beautiful women who take your breath away? You cannot lie to me in the hopes of being released.”

“I-I’m not royalty, I don’t have a crown-!”

“I care not for a crown on your head, little pet.” the dragon scoffs. “I have countless of crowns and medals and gold more than any human can fathom. If I wanted a crown, i would take the crown, not the human who owns it.”

“S... so why take... me?” You look up at the dragon helplessly, the fear lingering but confusion clouds your mind.

The dragon laughs, a low, rolling rumble.

“My dear. As a dragon, I have a fondness for treasures... everything that’s beautiful. So beautiful that it corrupts weak minds with greed... I am that greed. When I see something precious, I take it here, to my hoard. And you, princess... what are princesses but someone precious, someone more precious than even the most valuable jewel...?”

You squeak, scrambling away as the dragon turns his claws, moving them as if to cup you. You hear it again- that growling sound. You see his mouth stretching into another smile.

“I have seen many humans seek my hoard. None have ever come close. Even when there was only but a small hill of gold, I witnessed kings attempt to find my treasure trove. Anyone that came close, I burned to nothing but ashes. Few I let survive to tell the tale. There are others like me who have done the same, making those poor humans confused with many tales of dragons, where you can’t tell which is real and which was fabricated...”

The dragon turns his head, bringing one eye closer to you, as it looked like he was drinking your image.

“But I. I am luckier than the others.” The dragon said. “None of them have the fortune of finding such a precious little thing like you.”

The dragon’s claws twitched closer to you. You can’t move, you can’t look away from the dragon’s eye.

“I see people. I hear people who come for my treasures. And I saw you. Sweet little thing. You didn’t want treasure. You only wanted everyone to be safe... you knew how deadly this ‘adventure’ would be. I saw how tired you were... yet you followed those men, same as the others- unprepared for a dragon.

As soon as I saw you, I knew you had to be mine, and mine alone. Humans don’t know how to take care of a treasure like a dragon does. So I came for you. I came to claim the precious gem that had unwittingly wandered into my domain.”

Your breaths were short. You swallowed thickly as it felt like your body was rooted to the ground.

You didn’t want to know, yet the question tumbled out of your mouth anyway.

“Wh... what do you intend to do with me, dragon..?”

The dragon shows off his mighty teeth again. You could almost see your face reflected in a tooth.

“As I do with the rest of my treasures, love.”

You shrieked as the dragon’s claws fell on top of you, digging into the ground like prison bars as you’re caged in. The dragon’s eye peers in, showering you in an ominous, red glow.

“You belong to me now, little one. I don’t intend on ever letting go of my precious treasures. And you, my dear... you are my most prized possession.”

#not sans #i repeat this is not a sans fanfic so if you dont wanna read i will understand #original idea #???#i forgot #i wrote that one original thing ages ago and idk what the tag was dhjksdf #reader x monster #aka writing #dragon #horaaay #im anxious bc i cant believe its not sans!!#sdjhfdfs

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rocorambles · 3 years ago

Text

Until Death Do Us Part

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Sea Warlock!Akaashi, Mermaid Reader, Non-Con/Rape, Mind Control, Body Modification

Summary: As a little girl you’ve always dreamed of marriage, but maybe you should have been more careful of who you decided to exchange eternal vows with.

This is for @terushimooo's Aquatic August collab. Happy swimming~

You love Itachiyama, love waking up and seeing the endless sea of blue, love waving down at all the sea creatures, sirens, mermaids, and so much more who cheerfully greet you. You love Itachiyama and Itachiyama loves you, the citizens of your kingdom eagerly calling your name and shoving free samples of tasty food and merchandise in your hand as you swim by the marketplace, excited to interact with their favorite (and only) princess.

But as much as you genuinely love your realm, you’ve always been too curious for your own good, your sheltered life forcing your imagination to go wild as you listen intently to merchants and travelers from out of town who tell you about corners of the ocean and sea creatures you’ve never even heard of.

There’s a limit to how much pretty words and mental images can satisfy you and your cousins Sakusa and Komori roll their eyes and sigh when you begin to repeatedly try sneaking out from their protective watch, eager to experience what lies beyond the borders of your safe haven.

It’s a comic joint effort between the citizens, your cousins, and the royal guards as they all work to keep you as safe as they can. It becomes a game of sorts, one that they all begrudgingly begin to enjoy, and laughter fills the kingdom when citizens take turns cheering for you or your cousins as Sakusa and Komori rapidly swim after you, leaving ripples and bubbles in your wakes as your tails flick back and forth.

They’re hesitant to let you wander off on your own at first, the creatures of your realm and the palace guards begging you to at least let them accompany you when you’re insistent about exploring the surrounding areas. Sakusa scolds you, always dragging you back to the palace when you do manage to escape, although you hide your smile when you see how he wordlessly takes all your new discoveries from you and carries them back for you. Komori also nudges you back when he’s the one sent to find you, although he always lets you wander around for a while longer when he does locate you, indulging your whims before finally enticing you back home with the promise of a new seashell necklace, his treat.

But over time they begin to relax, just wishing you safe travels and exploring when they do see you ready to slip past the border, Sakusa and Komori reminding you not to stray too far and not to stay out too late when their schedules don’t permit them to leave with you.

You love meeting new people, exploring new towns, seeing the sights outside of the bubble you’ve grown up in. But novelty wears off and even the surrounding territories begin to become familiar to you, an old itch beginning to creep inside of you once again, a desire to see even more churning inside of you. And it’s that yearning inside of you that has you secretly wandering in a different direction one day, going far further than you’ve ever been before, leading you to Akaashi’s lair.

Akaashi sees you long before you even realize you’re in his territory and he’s intrigued to say the least. He can’t even count the number of greedy, selfish, desperate souls who’ve sullied his grounds, disgustingly groveling at his feet, whining for their wishes and desires to be granted. But you? You’re different. He can tell just by how unaware and genuinely curious you are as your eyes flit about the unknown area, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the site of different coral and species of fish you’ve never seen.

You’re not here for him. He’s sure you don’t even know exactly whose lands you’ve naively fluttered upon. And before he even realizes what he’s doing, his legs have transitioned into a mass of swirling tentacles, rocketing him towards your direction.

When’s the last time he’s talked to someone outside of the lowlife scum who begged and pleaded for his help? When’s the last time he was able to enjoy another’s company? The warmth of another’s body entwined with his?

There’s a painful tug at his heart when he sees how you tense at his presence, fear lacing your gaze when you connect the mass of glossy black tentacles on his lower half and his piercing blue orbs to his true identity.

It’s not hard to understand exactly who you’re face to face with, the rumors of the sea warlock’s appearance and reputation having spread far and wide. You’ve always been horrified by the stories you’ve heard. Maybe it’s because you’re far too simple-minded, far too easily satisfied as both your cousins fondly tease you about. But you can’t imagine wanting anything enough to give up your voice, your tail, your ability to love and laugh.

You know Akaashi only takes from those who seek his help, that you technically have nothing to fear. But you still cower in front of him, folding your tail in front of you and clutching it to your chest, a small silly part of you scared that he’d snatch it away from you.

The gesture makes Akaashi laugh and you stare wide-eyed at the handsome creature in front of you, your tail slowly flopping from your arms and floating freely as you let the lovely tinkle of his laugh echo around you.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on taking your tail. Unless you’ve come here for me to grant a request?”

You furiously shake your head from side to side, still a little apprehensive as he sends a small amused smile your way. But as he continues talking, you can feel the tension ease from your body, your body matching Akaashi’s pace as he gives you a tour of his neck of the woods. He’s so well-spoken, a soothing tone to his voice that easily lulls you into a sense of peace as you eagerly listen to him tell you about the local wildlife and terrain.

He tells you stories of worlds and creatures you can’t even begin to fathom. He tells you of life above the waters and in the sky. And you find yourself returning back to him over and over again, although it would be a lie to say it’s purely out of a desire to learn more.

Your curiosity is as insatiable as always, but you get distracted more often than not when Akaashi speaks. You get lost staring at that striking face and into those gorgeous eyes. Your eyes glitter in awe as he effortlessly transitions between gracefully swimming upon a mass of tentacles to fluttering two human legs in the sea, appendages you’ve never seen before.

You’re falling fast and hard for the sea warlock and you don’t think there’s any going back.

Akaashi knows there’s no going back.

He’d fallen for you the second you had opened up to him, the moment you had seen him as just another creature to befriend instead of a wish given genie whose only purpose was to dole out wishes. And he’s not ignorant to the way your eyes wander across his figure, his face, how you badly try to hide your growing attraction to him.

So it only makes sense that he doesn’t resist temptation anymore now that he knows the feelings are mutual and he hungrily lets his tentacles wind around your waist, pulling you towards him so he can embrace you in his warms, closing his eyes in bliss as your barely covered torso presses against his own bare chest. One of his hands snakes to unclasp your seashell top while his lips devour yours, sighing at how sweet you taste.

But he grimaces in displeasure when your tail begins to wildly flail from side to side, your hands annoyingly pressing against his chest. And he pulls back, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what’s wrong, only to scowl when he sees hesitation tinged with fear in your pretty eyes.

He thought you were far beyond this point. What is there to be scared of? Why are you so skittish? But he hasn’t gotten as far as he has by blowing his fuse so he forces his tentacles to relinquish you, lightly replacing them with his hands as he brings you over to his bed, letting you sit on his lap and tuck your head under his chin as he gently rubs his thumbs soothingly over your waist.

It’s a good sign that you feel comfortable enough to bury your face in his chest and he lets you sit there silently, waiting for you to speak up. And his patience is rewarded when you nervously draw aimless partners on his skin as you begin to talk.

He bites back a laugh when you ramble on about how you’ve never even had a boyfriend before, never done more than platonically hug and kiss your family and friends. This is all so new to you and isn’t it too fast, too soon? What even are the two of you? Does he even like you? Love you? You don’t want to be just a notch in his bedpost. You want to date, get married, have a family. Only married people can do the things...the things that…

You trail off in embarrassment, unsure how to even phrase things you’ve only whispered about in hushed voices with your friends, that you’ve never experienced for yourself before. But your face heats when a low chuckle reverberates in your ears, gasping when one of Akaashi’s hands digs into your skin, the other traveling sensually up your spine before roughly grabbing the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss that’s all heady hunger that leaves you breathless.

It would be so easy to just give in, to melt and moan as his nails threaten to pierce your skin, his arms caging you against him until all you can feel, see, and smell is him. Your tongues entangle with each other and you gasp when his fingers begin to slip under a seashell, the other hand teasing the transition of skin to scale. But when he begins to tweak a nipple and palm your ass, you’re jolted back to reality, the morals of chastity and purity you’ve been raised with battling against the temptation of Akaashi’s touch.

“Wait, Keiji. Wait!”

This time there’s no hiding his irritation and you flinch at the annoyance in his eyes as he stares you down, a coldness in his face you’ve never seen before. But you press on, believing that if he truly cared for you, he’d understand. All your girlfriends had told you that if you found the right one, they’d be patient, they’d wait until you were ready.

“I- I really like you, but I don’t think I’m ready for this yet. I want to go on dates, get engaged, get married. And maybe it’s old-fashioned, but I want our first time to be our wedding night, after we’ve said our vows and promises to be together forever.”

“You want to be together forever?”

Akaashi can’t help but smile at the hopeful look in your eyes when you nod your head in affirmation.

“Then until death do us part.”

You’ve always wondered what magic would look or feel like and now you know. You whimper as you feel something powerful, something foreign surge through you, Akaashi’s eyes glowing far more than they should, the shadows of his cave seeming to grow and loom over the two of you. There’s a searing pain on your lower abdomen and the expanse of your chest and you scream as it fills like your tail is being torn into two.

And suddenly there’s a feeling of something wrapping around your heart, an ache between your legs-

Your legs?

You stare in horror, tears forming in your eyes when you see your beautiful tail replaced by two legs, strange black markings permanently engraved over your womb, the scrawl of Akaashi’s name taunting you from its loving placement above your heart.

“Don’t cry, my love. Look we can match now. Consider it a reminder of our new beginning together, the start of the rest of our lives.”

This is a mockery of everything you’ve believed a marriage to be and you only sob harder as Akaashi pins you on your back, his legs in between yours pushing them apart. But he tires of your pained and agonized cries and you gasp as the new markings decorating your skin begin to glow blue. Fear is replaced with lust and all you can think of is Akaashi, all you want is Akaashi, all you need is Akaashi.

There’s just enough of your own will to know this isn’t right, this isn’t truly you. But you can’t do anything against your body and mind’s cravings, the way you instinctively lean into every kiss, every touch. Is this how it always feels? You can’t tell if the delirious pleasure you’re feeling is normal or if it’s being heightened by whatever incantation Akaashi has you under. But you can’t bring yourself to care about the details, not when your eyes are rolling back in your head, something slick leaking from between your new limbs as Akaashi makes his way down your body, mouth and fingers lapping at your new slit.

Your chest heaves, nipples standing at attention, gleaming with Akaashi’s saliva as your body contorts as he continuously pumps in and out of you, adding finger after finger until it feels like you’re going to burst. You don’t even recognize the wanton cries in the air as your own, lewd whines of “Keiji, Keiji, Keiji” filling the air. And then there’s a snap, your body going rigid as something coils tight inside of you before you’re wailing, body thrashing and convulsing around the four digits stuffed inside of you, your arousal coating Akaashi’s fingers and dripping down his wrist.

You hate how wrong it feels to be empty, a whine escaping your lips at the loss of his fingers as he pulls them out. But you flinch at the sight of Akaashi seductively licking his skin clean of your mess, desire making his eyes dark as he contently hums at your taste. You try to use his distraction as a chance to slowly crawl away, but you let out a surprised cry when strong hands drag you back in place, spreading your legs once again.

“We’re not done with our wedding night yet, darling.”

Something hard and thick nudges at your entrance and you struggle anew to no use as your markings glow blue once more. And suddenly you’re pliant and aroused all over again, overwhelmed tears streaming down your face as despair and lust mix together, only heightening the dizzying feeling of having Akaashi’s cock balls deep inside of you. It’s too much, too soon and yet it’s not enough, desire pulsing inside of you, need making you go mad.

But it doesn’t matter what you want or how you feel and Akaashi reminds you of that as he uses your body to chase his own end, hips thrusting in and out of you, cock dragging against your oversensitized walls. On and on he goes, following through with a relentless, brutal pace, spurred on by your lewd moans and the way your nails draw blood as you claw at him, body trying to ground itself in any way.

You’re tumbling over the edge once more and what husband would he be to not join his lovely new wife over that precipice of pleasure? So he follows you down, groaning and burying his face in your neck with a kiss as he thrusts one last time, sinking deep inside of you as he fills you to the brim with his seed.

Reality sinks in as the blue glow emblazoned on you begins to dim until only skin and dark markings are left and disgust makes your guts churn. All you want to do is curl up into a ball. All you want is to be back home with your cousins, joking with Komori, being a brat to Sakusa. All you want is to go back in time, go back to the carefree days of innocence and fluttering your tail when Akaashi was just a faceless name.

But there’s no going back and all you can do is lie there and accept your fate as Akaashi reverently kisses and caresses his marks on your body.

Until death do you part.

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu smut #yandere akaashi #akaashi smut #akaashi x reader #tw: noncon #tw: mind control #tw: body modification #tw: yandere

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levis-little-nuggie · 4 years ago

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hi! i just saw the post about requests and could you write some fluffy sex headcanons with the brothers? we don't really see stuff like that so i thought i'd ask

Bless you nonny for the request 💜💜 this uh, turned out a lot longer than I had anticipated, probably because I haven't written anything in a good while 😅

Asmo and Belphie will have their own posts 💜

Nsft, obviously, so everything is under the Read More. I made the reader as gender neutral and inclusive as I could. Please let me know if at any point, I was exclusive.

Fluffy Sex Headcanons of the Demon Brothers

(minus Asmo and Belphie)

Lucifer

This man will top or bottom solely dependent upon what you want. Sex with him is moreso about pleasing his partner than just getting off. His preferences are fine tuned to your desires and your body’s limits. Lucifer’s sin feeds off of the immense pride a lover feels when they know you and your body better than you do

He may act cold and aloof in public and in front of others, coming off as stoic and arrogant, but it’s a completely different story behind closed doors.

However you want him, he’ll comply. You’ve done the impossible and captured his heart. Don’t let this old man and his brown shoes fool you, he’ll drown you in passion.

He’ll gladly play the Dom role, but he’ll also gladly be your sub as well.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer him to Dom, you can expect an intensive aftercare routine that would rival Asmo’s. It’s not that he doesn’t like hurting you or pushing you to your limits, he just wants to reward you for being so good for him and wants to remind you how much he loves you.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer to Dom yourself, go crazy! While you would be capable of marking and bruising his skin, you can’t physically hurt or break him beyond light scratches. He can break out of whatever restraints you put him, even if they are demon-grade. You would need actual spells to diminish his strength to put him on par with a lower-class demon if you wanted him to actually feel any real pain, but if it’s what you want, he’ll do it. Expect a conversation beforehand about what you want and how he can do that for you. He wants there to be clear communication so he knows how best to serve you in the moments to come.

Sure the sex is fantastic, but he’ll show you how much he loves you in the tender moments after. The afterglow is his favorite part, both of you basking in the remnants of pleasure coursing through you, the physical numbness, and the swell of feel-good chemicals swirling through your bodies. This is when he’ll hold you closest, pepper your skin with kisses unable to stop himself, he’ll play with your hair if you have it, his eyes will be bright, his smile will be unrestrained. He may even start humming a long-forgotten lullaby or your favorite song as he rests his head against your chest, hearing your heartbeat in blissful content until one of you decides it’s time to get cleaned up.

No matter how long the day has been, the amount of hours he’s put into all that damn paperwork, he’ll always make time to pamper you after sex. If you prefer to shower alone, he’ll let you go first and have the bed ready with new, clean sheets and clean towels set out for you when you’re done. Prefer to sleep with pajamas? He has a drawer dedicated to your favorite things along with some new ones he bought for you.

Mammon

Ah yes, the tsundere. The dumbass in the streets, dumbass in the sheets. The one who has more hair-brained ideas than he does fingers and toes in one week. One of the greatest banes of Lucifer’s existence.

His push and pull personality might have you questioning the validity of his feelings, but I believe that Mammon wouldn’t be partaking in fluffy sex at all unless he was absolutely smitten.

With how his brothers treat him, he’s reluctant to open his heart to you and fully accept that at some point, you won’t start insulting him either. However, equipped with the sin of greed, Mammon’s completely helpless when you compliment and reassure him.

His standoffish attitude is a front, a feeble attempt to keep up his reputation as “The Great Mammon,” but he’s got himself wrapped around your finger before he even realizes it and that facade would melt away instantly at your smallest of smiles, a kiss on his cheek or back of his hand, a surprise compliment, anything that makes his heart skip a beat.

Of the brothers, he has one of the weakest composers around you mainly because he’s also one of the horniest.

Sex with Mammon can be rushed; a quickie between classes, a broken composure that has him feeling dehydrated for you, a clash of tongues and teech and a burning desire that encompasses both of you until you find release.

However, the sweetest and fluffiest sex with Mammon would be when either of you are feeling emotionally vulnerable.

He’ll treat you like you’re the greatest treasure to have ever existed in all three realms, with a delicacy as if you’re fragile because he knows he can be careless and reckless. He’ll be in his head a lot making sure he’s taking care of you, that you feel good, doing his damndest to keep you satisfied so there’s no room in your heart to doubt him. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep that sparkle in your eye when you look at him, to never lose you and never have to experience the day you realize his brothers have been right all along.

And I mean he’ll do whatever and however. Any wish is his command, but you’ll have more work cut out for you if you suggest the both of you participating in a threesome or more. He wants you all to himself, it’s his greed, but it’s your reassurance and validation that will have him like putty in your hand.

He’s more than okay with both of you falling asleep in your mess, but more often than not, he’ll wait until you’ve dozed off to clean up. In these moments, he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin, like polishing a priceless jewel. His intentions are pure, most of the time, he just likes to wait till you’re asleep so there’s no chance for you to tease him about it. It also allows his greed to soak up your peaceful expression, the way your body reaches out to him after he’s finished cleaning and comes back to curl up next to you.

There’s a secret photo album hidden on his phone filled with pictures of the both of you like this, your lashes against your cheeks, your freckles or sun spots, any blemishes or scars that he’s covered in kisses countless of times, your hand in his and vice versa, memories of how sweet and tender your love is, filled with emotions he struggles to put into words.

Leviathan

It all depends how you play your cards with this one. Teasing him is easy and it’ll get him all flustered, but pair that with his raging horniness and you’ll be walking a fine line between a Dom or sub Levi.

However, if it’s fluffy and sweet sex you want, treat him gently and he’ll return the favor. It’ll take a bit of time and effort to get here, on both your parts, but if you’re willing to put in the work, he’ll make it worth it. Like Mammon, this means sex will be its fluffiest when either both of you or one of you is emotionally vulnerable.

We’ve recently been blessed by the devs on a cannon description of his tail, confirming that it is snake-like with scales. This also means, however, that his tail is sensitive to touch and he has full control of its movements. During a more sweet intimacy, he likes to wrap his tail around a limb, your arm or your leg. It’s only when he’s in Dom or sub mode that he likes to use his tail in a more active manner.

It’s important for him, whether he realizes it or not, that during these moments, that he’s the one touching you, not his tail. If you ask him to use his tail too much during sex, he’ll start to think that you’re only with him because of his tail.

He’ll want to see you even though his room is dimly lit. He also knows his tub bed might not be the most comfortable so he’ll invest in a mattress to put on the floor by the tank, and a few fluffy blankets, from the Ruri-chan line of course, to keep you warm and comfortable so you’ll never want to leave his room, just like him.

He prefers any position that has the two of you lying together, with your face in clear view because he can’t get enough of the faces you make because of the pleasure he’s responsible for making you feel. He’ll be more focused on your voice, your body language, your reactions to reassure him he’s doing something right.

To see your naked skin kissed with the reflection of the water from the tank is his favorite part. He actually got a nosebleed the first time he saw you like that.

Sex with the otaku is a learning experience that requires patience and repetitive reassurance. He’s certain that no one could ever love him, and it’s going to cost a lot of mental energy, and it can be disheartening at times where it seems he’s not made any progress in loving himself at all, but you’ll both also have an opportunity to create something truly beautiful between the two of you. Falling in love with your best friend, and having your feelings returned with all their heart is one of the most beautiful things to ever experience.

Satan

I like to imagine that Satan is akin to that tiger DILF in Zootopia looking at his tablet while on the train, you know, the one who looks like he’ll take good care of you? Listen, during one of his Devilgram stories, the man pitches a tent (like an actual tent, not a boner you guys) and makes both of you cups of hot chocolate. You can pry this hc out of my cold, dead hands.

Sex with Satan is actually more often fluffy and sweet than anyone would assume because he’s the Avatar of Wrath. Just like all the other brothers, Satan is more than his sin. That being said, Satan is still CEO of Angry Sex™ but he’s also more intune to his own feelings than the rest of his brothers.

It’s after his more violent fits of rage that he’s seeking your comfort. It’s difficult for him to come down from his wrath; the worse the fit is, the more broken and twisted he feels. He didn’t like coming to you at first because he knows how mentally draining it can be for a human to deal with someone like that, but you’ve insisted in your endearing and stubborn way that he can and needs to rely on you more. You threatened to find all the sources proving your point for the success of any relationship and he eventually gave in, accepting your kindness and your love.

In turn, he provides you with an arsenal of reading material and spells you can arm yourself with for a plethora of reasons; mainly self-defense against demons, a history of successful and failed attempts to prank Lucifer, as well as guides for subjects in class to help you study.

Unlike his previous brothers, sex with Satan is more about the pleasure you both feel. Of course he’ll still be mindful of your pleasure, but he can also get lost in his own desire. No matter how far gone he is, you know that the moment you utter the safeword, he’ll stop immediately and assess the situation. The safeword is actually a simple spell that he’d found when you two started getting more intimate.

On days he’s feeling extra playful, he’ll dress up for you; a collar with a bell, cat ears, a butt plug with a tail attached. He loves to be your little kitty cat, and will practically foam at the mouth if you ever dressed up like a slutty cat for him, but this doesn’t lead to fluffy smut times.

While he has no issues with PDA, Satan reserves his more soft and fluffy side for when you two are totally alone. He’s proactive in looking up cute date ideas and is the type to go all out turning his bed or his floor into a nest of pillows and blankets, cups of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, whatever you prefer, a variety of little snacks, and turn his wall into a projection screen to watch old-fashioned black and white romance movies.

For Satan, it’s the moments leading up to the sweet intimacy filled with love and adoration that are his favorites. Being the reason your face brightens, tears of happiness well in the corner of your eyes, the way your smile makes his heart stutters, Satan loves showing you how much you mean to him mainly because he knows he’s not the best with words. He could recite any poem of strings of song lyrics, but he believes actions speak louder than words.

He actually prefers for you to have control in these moments; there’s less of a chance he could hurt you and it’s another way to prove his love. He’ll only ever bottom for you. He was reluctant at first, but it’s like you opened his eyes to a whole new world he didn’t know about. He still likes to act like he's a cat and you're his mouse, but he also likes it when you take over and make him bow to your whim. You've gained his trust as well as his heart and he believes that the power dynamic in a relationship should be balanced.

During the most intimate moments, either right after sex or waking up together in the morning after sleeping in, you'll both enter this Cat Speak mode. One of you will start, just a cute little "mrow?" and you'll go back and forth entertaining a semblance of a conversation but without saying anything. There's no actual conversation happening, it's just the two of you making cat noises at each other, giggling and riding the high of this special intimacy specially reserved for these moments of bliss.

Beel

Let’s be honest, 9 times out of 10 your sex with the sixth-born will be fluffy and sweet. He’s like the personified version of a golden retriever. He loves you and has the instinct to want to take care of you. You’re such a small, delicate human, and his brothers love you too so when you’re in Beel’s care, he makes sure you’re satisfied more than just sexually.

Anything you’re willing to give him, he’ll accept wholeheartedly expressing his love and gratitude in the form of huge grins, hugs, a hearty chuckle, and peppering kisses across your face.

Even though he’s not as sexually active as some of his brothers, once you get this big guy started, be prepared to cancel any plans you have for the rest of the day… and also the day after just to be safe. He has the most energy and will keep going until he’s had you against every solid surface in his room, minus Belphie’s furniture of course. Regardless of your size or how you look, he’ll make you feel weightless as he carries you around the room effortlessly

He loves the way you taste, gliding his tongue over your skin like you’re an ice-cream cone that never melts, he’s actually growled a number of times when you tried pulling yourself away from him. His eyes had turned shades darker than normal before you snapped him out of it. He would apologize profusely and kill the mood so as to make sure he’s in the right headspace and you’re okay.

This has only happened a few times, but he still loves to taste every inch of you whenever he has you all to himself. He leaves you covered in hickeys and love bites and even though he’ll apologize, you know he feels absolutely no shame in his brother’s reactions to seeing you covered the next day.

His favorite part is helping you ride out your orgasm with his mouth. He knows he’s more skilled with his mouth anyway and just, the man cannot get enough of you or your taste. Depending on where he’s at when you orgasm, if he’s close, he’ll paint your skin in his release, and then clean up the mess and drag you in for snuggles. If he’s not quite there yet, he’ll assess your energy levels and wait until you’re ready to go again or keep going, depending on who topped or bottomed. He’s all about consent and wants to join you when you’re fully blissed out regardless if he’s finished or not (meaning he’ll deny his own release in order to lie with you).

Aftercare comes almost second nature to him. He’s already carrying you to the bathroom and soaking you off in the shower before you realize it. The warm water and his large hands invade your senses and he urges you to let go, to let him take care of you and it’s like a dream. His calloused hands offer a sort of comforting roughness that keeps you grounded. If you want shower sex, you’ll have to initiate it.

Actually, that’s pretty accurate for Beel. You want sex? You’re either going to have to initiate it or tell him straight out. Poor guy does not take hints well as he is very oblivious.

#like i said #longer than expected 😅#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me Lucifer fluff #obey my Mammon fluff #obey me leviathan fluff #obey me Levi fluff #obey me satan fluff #obey me beel fluff #so many tags #obey me nsft #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff

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