#it does reek though. if you know the smell....you know

[cloud-ya]

he's scared of strong wind

[dutybcrne]

Diona is extremely touch averse, but once she gets comfortable, she will get clingy. And she will get a little moody if she's not able to be.

[stevehours]

over and over again

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, smut

wc: 788

You’re not even certain how it happened. The only clear fact is that Steve Harrington has made you cum a third time. With nothing but determined fingers and a smug fucking smirk. You’re practically drenched in sweat, hair sticking to your forehead and it’s a goddamn struggle to catch your breath. It’s the peak of the summer, the room is muggy with humid summer air and reeks of the tangy smell of sex. Breasts swaying with every rise and fall of your chest as you press your palms to your eyes. Steve’s tugging them away before long and then grazing the pads of his thumbs against your perked nipples, causing a jolt to rip through your body and a weak, pathetic little yelp to escape your mouth.

Steve looks just as fucked out as you do, yet he remains completely clothed. Sweat beading at his hairline and his eyes are all hazy, like he’s the one who’s just came several times in the short span of thirty minutes. However, he does look proud of himself. And he should, because Steve talks you through it each time and that’s really the magic here. You think. Unless Steve has a secret trick to make a girl cum in record time.

“How do you…” you give up on the question, settling back into attempting to catch your breath.

Steve mouths at your hip, continues to toy with your nipples and rolls his hips into the mattress. Trying to get his own small relief. He laughs softly, a breezy little sound as he peers up at you, “How do I what?”

“Do that,” you mumble.

His strong fingers trace down your abdomen, threatening lower and lower as you squirm. Steve smiles against your skin as he answers, “It’s fun, I like watching you react so I kinda get carried away, I guess.”

“Carried away is an understatement,” you breathe, thighs shaking as he pries them open again. “S-Steve… I don’t know if I can.”

He pouts up at you, all glassy eyed full of lust as he smooths his hand on the tender flesh of your thigh. Electricity runs up the curve of your spine the closer he gets to your center as he begs, all soft and needy, “Please, just give me one more…”

How could you say no to that?

“I- fuck, okay,” you whine, crying out when he surprises you by pushing your thighs apart and getting his mouth on your cunt. Essentially making out with your drenched folds and spent clit. Fingernails making little crescent shaped marks where he clings to the flesh of your thighs. “Oh! Steve! Fuck!”

Your fingers slide into his sweaty hair, back arching as the euphoric waves of pleasure ripple through you. Your eyes cross as they roll back, the heel of your foot sliding down Steve’s strong back and he moans muffled into your core like he enjoys this more than you do. It’s got to be equal though. You’re on a whole other dimension, floating up and up as his tongue rolls up and down your folds. He circles his lips around your sensitive clit and sucks, pulls a sound out of you that borderlines on a scream while your fingers pull on his hair. That only spurred him on further, drags his tongue down to your entrance and licks around the pulsing hole. His sharp nose bumps against your clit and he actually uses it to stimulate you more, moves his head to rub his nose against your clit. Steve blinks up at you, is insistent on watching you fall apart all thanks to his mouth.

His hands turn under your thighs and he pushes them up, knees to your chest while he fucks his tongue into you. Nose still bumping against your clit. And he keeps moaning into you, little vibrations bringing you that much closer. You hook your hands under your knees, to help hold your legs up and completely surrender yourself to Steve.

The room fills with the filthy sound of Steve eating you out, accompanied by the lewd, uncontrollable moans falling out of your mouth. And the coil in your stomach snaps abruptly, without much of a warning. Steve licks you through it, even as your legs give out and come down to trap him in place, his ears covered by your thighs. Once you’ve come down enough, your legs fall limp to the mattress and you’re grabbing onto his shirt, tugging him up and wrapping your arms around his middle. Kissing him sloppily, needy and desperate. Soon, your legs are wrapping around his waist and you’re clinging onto him like you’re scared me might float away— or maybe you’ll sink into the sweat soaked sheets.

[bosinclairsgff]

What the slashers smell like

Warnings: this is realistic lol

Includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Amanda Young, Mark Hoffman, RZ Michael Myers, The Grabber, Thomas Hewitt

A/n yes I realize this may be just a bit weird

- He smells like grease, sweat, and a cheap cologne. Of course there’s a hint of iron on him most days buts it’s just faint enough to miss. Bo definitely washes his hair with soap. He also reeks of cigarettes.

- This man is musky I’m sorry. He probably doesn’t shower a lot. His hair is very greasy, all the time. He usually smells like a moldy basement and sweat. With a waxy smell (duh).

- This man smells like blood, sweat, alcohol and a man who hasn’t showered in YEARS. He is stinky sorry girls. He also smells like piss.

- Baby takes better care of herself than Otis does. She smells like alcohol, blood and maybe I cheap perfume she stole from one of her many victims. Something floral.

- She takes regular showers so she’s not stinky. Amanda doesn’t care what shampoo she uses so she probably smells like coconut or vanilla, whatever she found at the store. I say she most likely doesn’t drown herself in perfumes. However there’s slight irony smell about her most days.

- This man smells like a expensive cologne he bought years ago and still hasn’t used it all. Also, he DEFINITELY uses three in one shampoo, conditioner and soap.

- He smells awful. Reeks of death and literal shit. Michael kills humans and animals, he’s stinky guys. He doesn’t know how to take care of his hygiene. His breath is AWFUL to.

- Albert loves being clean and well kept. He showers regularly, brushes his teeth regularly and wears a nice cologne. His cologne smells like old spice.

- Another stinky boy! He does not shower, ever. Maybe he’ll take a bath? I doubt it though. Thomas smells like blood, human shit and pure musk. You know how in cartoons when someone stinks there’s a green cloud? Yeah, that would be him.

[heart-eyed-love]

Eddie tries to make a move and you tease him. Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers. Contains - Cursing, Eddie being a typical boy😭, Sweet kisses :)

Eddie thought tonight was the perfect time to make a move. It was just you and him. No Wayne, No Hellfire, just the two of you. Alone.

You both sat in the living room of his trailer as some movie you picked played on the screen. He wasn’t really paying attention to it, he was mainly thinking about how he wanted to go about this… or maybe he’s stalling.

But every minute that passed of the movie he felt like his chance of doing this tonight was getting smaller.

Fuck, was it always this hot in here?!

He can admit he’s feeling slightly nervous. I mean last time he tried putting the moves on one of his friends, it sent her screeching away from him, and ultimately they ended up remaining friends. Yeah, it was definitely a humbling experience.

So he’d prefer if it didn’t go down that same way with you.

Which is why he’s been feeling it out, he’s been paying close attention to you and how you act around him, and based on what he’s gathered, you might feel the same.

Fuck it, he thinks. Just do it.

He simply begins moving his arm to the back of the couch behind you. Laying his arm out, and moving closer, just slightly, hoping it’s not too intense.

You had yet to notice the proximity between the two of you now. But after you suddenly get a whiff of something. Snapping your head to Eddie, brows furrowed confusedly.

It’s now you notice how close he is.

“What?” His brows are furrowed now too, different reasoning though. Scared he might be getting the wrong reaction, he withdraws his arm slightly.

And now you’re laughing.

He furrows his brows even further, “What are you laughing about?!”

“You’re armpits fucking reek!” You giggle out, now holding your shirt over your nose for extra dramatics. His cheeks slightly redden and he looks at you offendedly.

“No, they don’t. Don’t be so dramatic…” He lifts his armpit to his nose and smells. Shit, maybe they did smell a little, he must have been a bit more nervous than he thought.

“Smells like you actually play sports!” You’re still giggling, and Eddie rolls his eyes at your teasing. A tiny bit embarrassed that this is what him trying to make a move led to, but whatever.

“You think this is so funny, don’t you?” He glares, and you smirk back at him.

“Obviously.” You chuckle, “I’m not sure why you were shoving your armpit in my face though…” You add teasingly.

“I wasn’t shoving it in your face, Y/n.” He deadpans. You smile at how easy it is to get him riled up.

“Sure you weren’t…”

He rolls his eyes once again, “You know what?” and he’s now pinning you down to the couch, shoving his armpit into your face forcing you to smell it, “You thought I was shoving it in your face before?!” He’s laughing now, and you squirm underneath him.

“Eddie stop!” you’re screeching, but you can’t help but giggle as well. He thinks he likes this kind of screeching way better, than the alternative of getting rejected.

Sure, the move he made might have gone unnoticed but at least he was able to make you laugh.

But has he continued playfully torturing you, you find enough strength, even through laughter, to push him off. Sending him to the floor with a ‘humph’, unexpectedly he pulls you down with him.

Falling on top of him, you sit up to look down at him, he’s rising slightly in his elbows. Silence falls around you both as you look at each other, both of your gazes soften, like there’s something unsaid that you both seem to finally understand…

He sits up a little more and you shift on top of him slightly, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Your eyes widen, surprised by how forward he seems to be right now. You feel your cheeks tingle.

He then leans in a small amount, and then hesitates.

Holy Shit! Was this really happening?!

You lean in slightly too, but you hesitate as well, you want him to do it. You want him to make the final push, and he does. He lingers for a second before slowly moving his lips to yours and catching them in a soft kiss.

You melt into it immediately, sighing into the kiss as you feel his hand curl around the back of your neck. The kiss was a sweet one, not wanting to push the limits too much yet, and a soft smile spreads on your face once he pulls away gently, still close and now looking you in the eyes.

“That move was way better than the other one…”

He narrows his eyes at you, suppressing the smile that’s begging to form, “Oh? So you knew I was making a move? You just have to make everything difficult for me, don’t you?”

You smirk at him, nodding. “It’s just more fun that way…” You shrug, and he’s pulling himself out from under you, causing you to fall back on the floor. You watch him scramble to his feet, and he’s rushing off. “Hey! Where are you going?”

You’re looking up at him with softened eyes, and he feels himself softening too, before a smirk pulls at his lips, “To put more deodorant on… I have a feeling it’s gonna get a lot more steamy in here…” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly and you're already rolling your eyes.

But once he’s out of view you let the smile overtake your face, feeling the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

Smelling foul and he still has a hold on you.

[cieloclercs]

congrats on your 1K you deserve it‼️‼️

when you have the time could you write for lewis hamilton + nepo!reader ( male or female ) who is an actress / actor?

king of my heart — lewis hamilton

pairing. lewis hamilton x nepo baby!actress!reader

genre. social media au

face claim. gigi hadid

warnings. mentions of age gap, swearing, some online hate, lewis and reader are literally the hottest couple ever, daniel lowkey trolling lando, sex jokes ??, mixed up met gala years sorryyyy, some inaccuracies with race outcomes shshsh

author’s note. hello anon! thank you for being my first request for my 1k event 🥰 i wasn’t sure if you wanted an imagine style thing or not so i’ve gone for a social media au. hope that’s ok ! if not just let me know and i can redo this for you <3

liked by kaiagerber and 4,739,725 others

yourusername when he takes you on a romantic getaway to a private beach island after being away for a month 🥹🥹 lewishamilton i love u bby 💕

view all comments…

lewishamilton Only the best for my Queen 🤍

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*lewishamilton liked this comment

username embarrassing 😳

*lewishamilton liked this comment

username lewis out here defending y/n from the haters 🥹 where can i find a man like that??

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*zendaya, yourusername and 5,736 others liked this comment

lilymhe oooh la laaa 😍😍

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liked by yourusername and 59,136 others

themetgalaofficial This year’s hottest couple, award-winning actress Y/N Y/L/N and seven-time Formula 1 World Champion, Sir Lewis Hamilton, grace the Met Gala red carpet 🤍

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username no need for the negativity honey, lewis still isn’t going to fuck you x

*yourusername liked this comment

username SHE DID NOT 😭😭 WHAT AN ICON

username omg y/n looks like a goddess 😍 and lewis is there too i guess…

username fucking nepo baby. fuck off and blow daddy’s money somewhere else u whore 🖕🖕

username i smell jealousy…

username 😂😂 what’s there to be jealous of?

username maybe the fact that y/n is a thousand times richer and more successful than you will ever be OF HER OWN MERIT…oh and the fact she’s fucking lewis hamilton every night, which you so clearly want to do from the BLATANT jealousy your comments reek of 😘

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*yourusername liked this comment

username somehow i just know she walks him like a DOG

yourusername thank you for having us ☺️🤍

themetgalaofficial It’s our pleasure 🤩

username yourusername HEY QUEEN

username even the met gala is an y/n fan

*themetgalaofficial liked this comment

liked by yourusername and 7,241,936 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton The happiest 4 years with my Queen 🤍 Here’s to forever x

view all comments…

yourusername the last picture was uncalled for 🥲

yourusername but i love you with everything that i have to give, my champion ❤️

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danielricciardo landonorris it’s ok, mate, we know you’re doomed to be single for life. here if you ever want to talk x

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lewishamilton ❤️

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liked by lewishamilton and 10,256,947 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername king of my heart 👑

…

lewishamilton 🤍🤍

comments on this post have been limited.

[eternally-racing]

meet me at midnight | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

wc: 1k

summary: even though you're sick, new year's eve is definitely a night you and lando want to remember.

----

“You have to go, Lan, everyone’s expecting you” you say while attempting to hide the congestion in your voice. It’s all futile though, since your ruby red nose and all too evident fever are giving you away. 

It’s New Year’s Eve and the two of you had planned on spending it together in Bali. It was a compromise of sorts. You got your quiet Christmas at home, while Lando was so excited to show you all his best DJ moves to close out the year. The only hiccup in the plan so far is that you had come down with one of the worst colds you’d experienced all year, leaving you absolutely cocooned under the blankets of your shared hotel room. 

Of course Lando wants to stay with you, he’s a gentleman after all. The two of you are still trying to keep things quiet with your relationship;  that means no joint entries into the paddock, no lavish vacations on a yacht, and most of all trying to keep things looking as “business as usual” in your personal social media accounts. People were already starting to question things, and Lando not making an appearance with his besties while everyone knows he’s in Bali would definitely raise too many red flags. It’s only when you threaten to get out of bed and iron his button down shirt yourself (it’s your favorite on him, and he knows that), does Lando come to terms with the fact that he’s leaving you behind to go party. It makes him feel a little sick in his stomach and you can see him almost change his mind at least half a dozen times before he makes it out the door, and it’s only after a mountain of air kisses and a promise to come back the minute you text him that you need him that he finally walks out the door. 

You’re not sure how long he’s been gone, but you can definitely still hear the party booming just miles away from your room. The toxic combination of advil and dehydration has left a pounding in your head that’s only compounded by the bass booming through your sheets, and the amount that you’re writhing in bed is almost enough to have you text Lando to come back. The minute you pick up your phone you see a cute video Martin sent of your man in the DJ booth looking like he’s having the time of his life, and that’s enough to make you change your mind. Seeing Lando happy made you happy enough, and if he was here the only thing he would do is probably just get himself sick. 

After drifting in and out of consciousness for a while you feel the side of the bed dip next to you and a pair of warm arms circle around you. Lando’s giggling a little to himself as he presses his face into your shoulder, and the ticklish feeling is enough to bring you further out of your slumber and roll over towards him. You can tell that Lando is still wearing the same shirt as you grasp at the buttons. He has that soft smile on his face that you just love seeing, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he tries to fight off sleep to look at you. On a normal night you would definitely chastise him for not brushing his teeth or changing his clothes before getting into bed, but it is honestly so nice to have him back and you tell him exactly that. As a response Lando only tries to bring your bodies even closer to each other, burying his head into your neck as he entangles your limbs together.

“Lan, baby I love you but you reek of tequila right now” you groaned as you stretched your back out slightly. The smell itself is enough to make your nausea return and you keep your nose shut with your fingers while you lift his head away from your body,

All of a sudden you feel Lando’s roaming hands freeze on your body and it immediately has you worried something’s wrong. You reach out to touch his cheek again but instead it looks like your boyfriend has seen a ghost. 

“You…love me?” Lando whispers out.

Shit. this is absolutely not how you meant for this to happen. I guess that's what love is like - perfectly imperfect and never how you expect it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks now but you just didn’t know the right moment to say it, but it looks like while your brain was overthinking it your heart had decided to blurt it out. 

You can feel your own face start to heat up, and this time it’s not from your fever. “Yeah, I love you Lando” You can barely keep eye contact with the blue-eyed boy across from you as you say it. 

There’s barely a beat of silence between you two and you’re about to launch into a mini rant about how he shouldn't feel any pressure to say it back and that it kind of slipped out when Lando scoops you into his arms. Before you know it he’s laughing and he’s kissing you and there’s fireworks happening between you two that can’t even be rivaled by the lights show that you can see streaming in through your window. 

“Can I show you how much I love you, baby?” is all Lando has to ask before you give in, all goals of trying to keep your distance to stop him from getting sick having gone out the window. 

And when Lando wakes up with a cold the next day, you’re right there next to him taking care of him. He’s the one you love, after all.

---

author's note: fun fact this was the very first formula 1 fic i ever wrote! it's making an appearance today because i've been so crazy busy this week and haven't been able to write a ton of new stuff :( so excited to get some more writing done this weekend! Love you all, thank you so much for reading! Until next time - Em <;3

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ AS GOOD AS I DO

RATING R - Restricted [ Content warnings : 18+ mdni, smut, dom!Nikolai, fem!sub!virgin!reader, alcohol consumption, strong language, thigh riding, heavy make-out session, praise with heavier degradation, oral fixation, fingering, size difference, loss of virginity, corruption kink, p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, spanking ]

SYNOPSIS You didn't know that it was a military bar, so you had no warning about all of the pent up soldiers that have their eyes on you and your friends. As most of them leave to have fun of their own, you don't. Why? Because you're a virgin. To your luck (or loss), a particular Russian pilot has his eyes set on you, and he intends to make the most of your first time that will have you crawling back for more.

WORD COUNT 11.3k (Too fucking much.)

The cold air bites harshly at your exposed skin, sinking its fangs in deep, forcing a shiver up your spine that makes you tense and makes way for goosebumps to break out all across your skin, the hairs on your body standing on edge as you roughly rub at the areas in hopes that the friction will do its job properly in warming you up.

It does, if only momentarily, give you a small sliver of reprieve and the opportunity to bask in the warmth before it’s cruelly yanked away the very second you halt your movements, letting that frigid cold seep right back in and settle deep into your bones, comfortably making a home for itself there.

From the exterior, the bar hardly looks... appealing, should we say? The exterior reeks of piss, stomach acid, and sex—a combination of scents that makes you scrunch up your nose in disgust and discomfort—and the building itself is hardly any better, the paint chipping and cracking all over the place with the brick looking as if it’ll crumble with so much as a gust of wind.

So, with a deep, heavy breath, you push open the old, creaky wooden door and take a step inside, immediately being greeted with a rush of warmth and the smell of fresh food and liquor. Lively, half-drunken chatter fills the air from the bar’s patrons, with some groups seated along the bar and others at tables scattered across the hardwood floor; nearly everyone within the establishment has one or more people to be paired with, leaving nobody alone.

The people, though, aren't exactly who you expected to see. When your group of close friends initially invited you to come out with them for a night of drinking near one of their flats, far off along the outskirts of the bustling city, you really had no reason to refuse the extended offer. After all, you hadn’t seen some of them in months, so this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up, no?

Well, it is. But nobody thought to tell you that you’d be walking right into a military bar.

Apparently, according to one of your friends, there’s a base just a few kilometers down the road, and, given that this is the closet bar in the vicinity of it, it’s where every active-duty soldier and veteran comes. They make up ninety percent of the bar’s patrons, too, so you and your friends are some of the few groups that aren’t associated with the military. Well… yet.

And not that there’s any issue with it being a military bar, of course! It’s just that… you aren’t exactly accustomed to dealing with such… bold personalities. 

While your friend group does, in fact, consist of a few colorful characters and then some, the other patrons at the bar are a little too much for your taste. You’re used to your friends making crude jokes, being loud and rowdy, and playfully flirting with you and everyone else, but when it comes to others? You aren’t exactly prepared.

You and your friends are sat around a large wooden table near the very center of the bar, a number of large splits cracking down the length of it, with one of the legs being propped up by a book due to it not being long enough to reach the floor. At least the chairs are somewhat comfortable, even if they’re nothing more than metal barstools with a bit of cushion on them.

The alcohol is fairly cheap, to everyone’s delight, especially when it’s actually good. You’d think, with the state that the bar’s interior and exterior are in, that the drinks and food would be equally as abhorrent with mold or bugs or something disgusting, but no! The food is cooked through and seasoned well, and the drinks are as they should be. So, none of you can really complain when the main attraction is enjoyable.

You all talk about anything and everything: who is sleeping with whom, what co-worker or boss got exposed for something or other, whatever celebrity drama is happening at the moment, what show or movie someone saw recently that you just have to watch. It’s a mixture of small talk and deep discussion, with the conversation flowing smoothly as everyone enjoys their food, drinks, and the company that surrounds them.

Until the first soldier approaches.

He’s young, no older than twenty-two—even that might be a bit of a stretch—dressed fully in uniform, the green camo pants he wears tucked neatly into a pair of black boots with a fitted shirt clinging tightly to his skin, emphasizing his physique. He isn’t bad-looking per se, but he definitely isn’t your type. 

He walks over by himself with a smug, self-assured grin plastered on his face as he approaches one of your friends who sits directly across from you, giving you a perfect view and earful of the interaction as you take a sip of your liquor, watching as he puts his hand on the back of her chair, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Hey there, pretty girl. You look bored over ‘ere with all of y’r friends. I could make y’r night more interestin’, y’know. You interested?”

Okay. Wow. Starting off strong.

And before you even know it, she’s giving a sheepish smile to the rest of you, apologizing and excusing herself from the table as she grabs her coat and purse from the back of her chair, waving you and everyone off before turning and hurriedly trailing behind the man like a lost puppy and out towards the car lot outside, no doubt ready and willing to get in some action of her own before the night is through.

And that’s just the beginning. After another half hour, all of your friends have either grabbed their things and said their goodbyes to go home with the soldier of their choice for the night, or they left to the bathroom or back alley, only to come back with a limp to their gait, bruised lips, marks, tousled hair, and fucked-out eyes. And if it’s the latter, it only takes them a few minutes before they leave, just like their formers.

It’s not like you haven’t had your fair share of men and women alike trying to court you, either. In fact, there have been four different people who have come up to you throughout the night and have tried their hand at seducing you, whether it be shitty pick-up lines that they use or bold flirtatious remarks, some even trying to trail an eager hand across your shoulder or back as a means to further entice you.

But you haven’t failed to turn each and every single one of them down, polite as you may try to be. It’s for two separate reasons, you deduce. One is that the people who are coming up to you aren’t exactly your type, be it in terms of the way that they look or their personality, while the other reason is… slightly more straightforward.

You’re a virgin.

So, to you, it’s no surprise that you’re adamant on turning down everyone that comes up to you to try and, for lack of better wording, try to get into your pants. Your other friends who have already been approached and taken up their offers for a good fuck, be it bent over the bathroom sink, pressed up against the brick wall in the alley outside, or going home to enjoy that ecstasy in a bed, intend to spend their nights well.

They’ll be having more of a “good night” than you will, even though they’ve all wished you well with some variation of that phrase.

So, here you sit at an empty table, nursing your drink with a soft sigh, bored out of your mind as you trail your pointer finger around the rim of the glassware in a slow, calculated manner. You can’t help but feel a bit left out. Again, not as if you haven’t already been given a multitude of chances and offers that you could have taken up hours ago, but none of them—to you, at least—seem to be someone worthy of taking something as intimate as your virginity away from you.

To hold it in their palms like a trophy or medal to display with smug, overzealous pride. To flaunt, to brag about, and then to ultimately forget, because to them, your virginity doesn’t matter. It’s something that can boost their ego for a momentary period of time before shrugging off and away because it didn’t matter and wasn’t important.

So, no, you decide. None of the overconfident, liquid courage-fueled bastards are worthy of taking your virginity away from you. Thus, you only have yourself to blame for your “lack of action," so you can’t complain about it any longer when you’ve dug in your heels and chosen to stick firmly by your decision, now can you?

That is, until a particular Russian man donning aviators and a brown leather flight jacket downs his shot in one go and stands, beginning to take slow, confident strides in your direction from his previous seat positioned at a small table in the far back corner of the bar from behind you, with four men urging him on with a few whistles and cheers.

Not that he has any need for encouragement or prayers, of course.

You don’t even notice him as he approaches, because you’d assume with a man of his size and stature that you’d at the very least be able to hear his footsteps, but no. He’s completely silent until he’s right behind you, one hand holding onto the back of your chair in a casual manner while the other splays out right beside your drink as he leans into it, both next to you and behind you all at once.

You can feel his hot, vodka-soaked breath fall heavy against the exposed skin of your spine even when his mouth isn’t anywhere near you yet, still maintaining some level of control over himself and his actions. You’re unable to see the way he catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he grins, thoroughly amused with the way a shiver crawls up your spine, right to where you had felt the ghost of his breath just moments ago.

That, and the flames of desire that flare up and burn behind his eyes.

“I cannot help but notice that your friends left you behind all by yourself. So cruel to do that to someone like yourself.”

You can only assume that sarcasm laces his tone with the way he puts emphasis on certain words or the way he speaks with a specific lilt, but that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. He means every word he says, so, if anything, it’s pure and unbridled amusement and honesty that lace his words and the way that he speaks.

Because he does think that it’s cruel that all of your friends have left you alone with nothing more than a quick, uncaring, departing word or phrase before they rush out to follow behind and fuck some other mindless soldier who, more than likely, has already had their fair share of the bar’s civilian patrons. Your friends don’t mean anything special to those soldiers, as unfortunate as it is, but that fact in and of itself is what separates him from those men.

Even if, yes, he’s in just as much of a desperate need to get off as they are.

You have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes at his words, your pointer finger continuing to drag lazily along the rim of your glass as you work to ignore him, not exactly up for trying to craft another excuse as a means to reject whatever proposal of having sex you assume he’s come up with, content with picking up your drink and finishing it off with a slow, steady breath, letting the liquor burn down your throat with indifference.

But, unfortunately for you, that only furthers his intrigue. So, with a smirk that slowly begins to spread out wider across his lips, even if you still don’t turn to see it, he chooses to take his shot and make a move. Or, rather and more accurately put, he makes an executive decision that he won’t allow you to refuse.

“Let me buy you a drink, да? Keep you company.”

And, just as stated, he doesn’t allow you to refuse him or turn down his offer like you had done with the others, already waving and making a few hand gestures at one of the servers, calling out to them for a refill of whatever you had been drinking and to place whatever your tab had been under his card, pulling out an empty chair, and taking his place in the seat beside you, getting to see that smug smirk for yourself for the first time.

And now your in it.

He’s… surprisingly pleasant to be around, you come to find out as you begrudgingly begin to converse with him. At first, you still try to ignore him, not even touching the new drink as it’s set in front of you just yet, keeping your eyes trained on and tracing the different rings in the wood table, but, in coming to the conclusion that he isn’t going to leave you alone, you start talking.

The conversation is forced when it begins, consisting of quick responses from you that lack any emotion or indication that you want to keep speaking. But he’s patient, and he waits, and he shifts his approach to asking questions that you can’t just give one to two word responses to, forcing the conversation into something of value. And only then does it begin to flow, slowly blending into something smoother—something that you can enjoy.

You learn his name, Nikolai, tasting it on your tongue with a sip of your drink, letting the flavors and tastes seep into your palette and glide down your throat until you feel it pool and fester in the depths of your stomach. The way you say his name makes his own cheshire-esque grin wifey further, his eyes crinkling with a flicker of undeniable mischief. It’s dangerous, but it draws you in just like a siren to a sailor.

He keeps the conversation civil at first, not wanting to scare you off just yet when he’s barely captured your attention, asking a few generic questions and molding them into something of substance, giving a few answers of his own and straying away from keeping them vague, trying to be as specific as he can afford to allow as a means to keep your attention drawn in on him. 

But after you finish your drink and he moves to order you another without question, he gets bolder.

Brushes of his fingers against your bare skin, remarks and words heavy with innuendo, heavy heated breaths that fan across the space between you both, and purrs that make your head spin in the best ways possible. It’s equally overwhelming as it is underwhelming. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s doing it better than you could have ever anticipated, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

You’re in over your head before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Come on, лапушка … let me give you a better night than your friends could ever even dream of having.”

His voice is heavy, as is his accent, his body turned to look at you with his face no more than a few centimeters away from your own, one of his hands busied with trailing his fingertips lazily up and down the exposed skin of your forearm, barely even touching it at all, while the other rests atop your thigh, the warmth from his skin seeping through the fabric of your pants as his thumb brushes back and forth in a methodic motion.

Nikolai’s staring down at you with these half-lidded eyes that you can barely even make out through his dark aviators, his breathing coming out in slow, shallow exhales, weighing heavy in his chest as he drags his tongue across his bottom lip, gently cocking his head to the side with that same smug look that hasn’t left his face or lips since he first started to speak with you, danger dancing behind his eyes.

A warning and a question wrapped into one, questioning if you’re ready for a man like him.

You look up at him, searching for as much as a flicker of that same cocktail of overzealousness and egotism that you so easily caught in every other person’s eyes as they presented you with a similar offer, seeing you as nothing more than a warm body to accompany and please them for the evening. To be able to decline him, turn down his offer, and go home for the night… to be able to forget about him and this before you let it get out of hand.

But you can’t find it. He wants you, yes, that much you can tell, but not in the same way that they did.

“Okay. Yeah… sure. Yes.” You tell him, stumbling over your words messily, but he doesn’t seem to care about it in the slightest. That smile of his edges with danger as he effortlessly moves his hand, grasping onto his aviators, taking them off and hooking them onto his shirt, his other hand leaving your thigh as he moves you in front of him, moving his hand to the small of your back to guide you around the bar towards one of the bathrooms near the back.

He stands tall from behind you, confidence radiating from his very being as he casually walks, uncaring of all the eyes that stare down at the two of you from all across the establishment as the watch, knowing full and well exactly what’s about to transpire, even if you don’t. His friends, the four, sat at the table just a few feet away from the bathroom door, sending him sly smiles and nods of approval. One of them, a bearded man wearing a bucket hat, holds up his wrist and taps at his watch, sending Nikolai a knowing look even as he grins just like the rest. You don’t exactly know what it means, but it doesn’t seem to phase the Russian in the slightest, rolling his eyes as he opens up the bathroom door, the hinges creaking loudly as it arches open, ushering you inside as he follows suit, letting it close with a groan, the lock clicking.

He’s on you in a second.

He turns you around, pressing you back roughly against the door as he crowds you against it, one of his knees wedging itself in between your thighs, shifting them apart, and one of his forearms moving to lie against the door above your head so that he can lean over and look down on you, giving you a crystal clear idea of how much bigger he truly is than you, bucking his knee up against your cunt.

A moan threatens to spill past your lips at the action, eyelids fluttering as the noise bubbles up… but he’s quick to catch it. Before it can boil over, Nikolai presses a bruising kiss to your lips, groaning into it, the sound rumbling like an earthquake from deep within his chest. A long, drawn-out “fuck” passes through his lips as he pulls away momentarily, trying desperately to catch his breath, his actions filled with lust.

His eyebrows knit together, and he bucks up his knee once more as he looks down at you, watching and relishing in the way your lips part and allowing for another sweet moan to drip past your lips, breathing stuttering, catching in your throat as he brings one of his big hands up to hold at your hip, urging you to grind against his knee, a high-pitched keen from you filling the empty space, occupied only by his heavy breaths.

“Look at you." Nikolai mumbles out, almost mockingly, taking in the sight before him of your parted lips, your shoes just barely touching the floor as he supports you on his knee, guiding you to grind along the length of it, the half-liddedness of your eyes. The sight is intoxicating, one that he desperately wants to photograph, frame, and keep to himself for as long as time allows, because, God, you’re a vision.

Nikolai dives back in for another kiss, this one lasting far longer and being much heavier—nothing short of tongue and teeth—as he loses himself in the taste of you. You aren’t much better. If anything, you’re in so much worse of a state than he is right now. You can feel your own composure crumbling apart in his hands, held together only by the taste of his lips. You can’t even fight it—not that you’d even want to in the first place.

You bring your hands up, letting them glide across his shoulders, fingers splayed, taking in the expanse of them before they go up further, tangling into his hair. The sensation forces another groan out of him, the sound trickling down your throat without a single ounce of shame, freely showing to you just how deep his need and desperation are to have you run within his bones.

“Have to… have to have you… You understand, да? You’ll let me?”

Nikolai breathes out between kisses, unable to decide whether he wants to lose himself in the feeling of your lips against his and nothing more, or if he wants to map and memorize every part of the inside of your mouth with his tongue. It’s a tough decision to make, so he opts simply to alternate between the two. It’s the best he can get of both worlds, he decides.

And your mind is finally allowed the space it’s ached for to remind you of exactly what this entire situation will lead to. 

He didn’t intend to bring you to the bathroom just to have a quick, hot and heavy make-out session with you, as nice as that would be. No! That’s not what you signed up for, dummy! The second you agreed to be led back here by him, you were giving him permission and consent to fuck you, and you know it!

“Imavirgin!”

The words come flowing out past your lips like water as you pull away from him, the back of your head falling back against the wooden door as you gasp desperately for air, breathing in quickly and out brokenly before you can even process what you’ve said, trying to regulate your breathing from the way he had taken the oxygen straight out of your lungs. And when it does catch up to what you’ve said, you feel your face burn white hot, completely flushed.

You’re looking at him with wide eyes, something akin to a deer in headlights, while he looks back at you, now in the process of catching his own breath, with nothing more than a slightly confused expression as he works to pick apart your hurried, panicked words. And when it dawns on him as to what you’ve said, his pupils blow wide just a fraction, minutely, and just barely noticeable.

He doesn’t look disgusted or weirded out by your words, to your surprise, having expected that exact response from him and being wildly confused when you can’t find an inkling of that expression on his face. “That wasn’t what I asked, лапушка.”

Nikolai mumbles out to you, pressing his forehead against your own as he allows his breathing to slowly but surely level out, his dazed, lust-filled eyes boring into your own, fingers loosening gently around your hip as he watches you intently.

He doesn’t care that you’re a virgin. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, and, if anything, it turns him on. But what he's saying now is that he wants you, but he’s asking at the same time if you’ll let him, allowing for that decision to lie completely within your control. He isn’t forcing himself upon you, still giving you the ability to say no and withdraw your consent before he pushes anything further, simply asking if you understand what he means and if you’ll let him.

So, now you’re faced with a decision. 

Do you withdraw your consent and tell him that, no, you won’t let him go any further with this? Because, quite frankly, you aren’t ready. Not ready to have sex for the first time in your life, not ready to lose your virginity, and certainly not ready to give up such an intimate part of yourself to a man you only met less than an hour ago.

Or... do you take a leap of faith without sparing a single glance beforehand and tell him that, yes, you do understand what he means, very clearly comprehending it and recognizing what’s to come with the acceptance of his proposal, and that, yes, you will let him have you and your body? That you’ll let him do whatever he wants to you, to be the one to take your virginity from you… and maybe then some.

It’s an important decision for you to make, one whose answer determines whether or not you lose your last sense of innocence. And, for better or for worse, far beyond your better judgement, you don’t spend too much time weighing the pros and cons before making your decision.

“I… ah… I understand. And… yeah, yes. Please.” Just like before, your answer comes out laced with hesitation and apprehension, both emotions undeniable, especially with the way your voice cracks and strains, leaving you to stumble and stutter over your words as you give him your answer with a shaky voice. Your hands are still tangled into his hair, albeit much looser now, but still present, the tremors that wrack through them gently tousling the dark strands.

And, after a moment, allowing his space to process what you said, Nikolai’s fingers resume their tight grip on your hip, the thick fingers bruising the skin, no doubt, even through the layers of your clothes. Never breaking eye contact with you, he pulls his head back, removing his forehead from its spot pressed against yours, his eyes shamelessly looking you up and down, his tongue gliding over the skin of his teeth.

“Умница.”

Nikolai mumbles out with praise, his voice barely louder than a whisper, though gruff and gravely beyond belief, a testament to his desire, moving his hand down for your hip to cup and grope at your ass through your pants, the other quickly following suit as he hoists you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips so as not to fall. Even if he wouldn’t ever let that happen in the first place, of course.

With your legs wrapped so tightly around his hips, you can very easily feel the hardness of his cock, even through all of the layers of clothing that separate you. You feel your breath hitch and stutter as it comes out shakily, your eyes boring into his own with parted lips and an open mouth, so unaware of what he has in store for you.

Oh, sweetheart, he’s going to fucking ruin you.

Unlike before, his footsteps are heavy as they move against the tiled floor of the bathroom, the thuds filling the space between the two of you, mixed with your own shared heavy breaths as he moves to, rather unceremoniously, drop you onto the long sink that lines one of the walls. Your legs dangle over the edge of it, and your thighs spread apart so far that you can feel your pants straining to accommodate them and the burn of your thighs as he stands between them.

He brings you back in for another kiss, his body towering over your own as he forces you to lean back against the cold mirror behind you, a shiver crawling up the length of your spine as you moan into his mouth, earning a pleased groan from him, just like before. His hands move, hooking into the loops of your pants as he forces them down, not even requesting for you to lift up your ass to make it easier, doing all the work for himself.

Nikolai’s tongue glides along your bottom lip, teasing its way into your mouth. His teeth clink against your own, and the kiss is sloppy and messy in a way that makes you moan out, whining softly. They’re two sounds that he eagerly swallows from your lips and drinks in like wine. He roughly shoves your pants the rest of the way down, moving them around and off of one foot so they dangle off of the other, the leg dragging against the floor.

Pulling back, Nikolai chuckles darkly at the way you try to cling to him, gently and desperately tugging at his hair with a whimper, trying to urge him back down for another kiss. He clicks his tongue, tutting at you with disapproval, shaking his head as he does so, giving you a warning look that quickly makes you remove your hands from their position, letting them come to fist at his shirt, gripping onto it with desperation.

“Нет. None of that. You're so eager for something that you have never even had. You don’t know how to act. We have to fix that, да?” It’s condescending that the way Nikolai speaks, mocking you and making fun of you for how desperate you are when he hasn’t even done anything of real substance yet—nothing more than a bit of making out and thigh grinding—has you acting out of line. Granted, you don’t really know where that line stands, given that you haven’t ever done this before, but he’s here to show you. To teach you and ingrain into you the role that you play beneath him.

Nikolai brings one of his hands up, cupping your chin and holding it tightly and firmly between his thumb and forefinger, the others pressed against the side of your throat, tilting it upwards as you strain your neck to keep up with the action. He inches his thumb up further, looking down at and watching you with narrowed eyes, cold and calculating as he presses them against your lips, feeling the way you exhale shakily out of your nose.

“Open.” It’s not a request, as you can tell, so you don’t waste any time looking at him with confusion, simply parting your lips for him and opening your mouth, just as he’s requested. He doesn’t even give you a moment to fully comprehend what's happening as he pushes his thumb past your lips, presses the rough pad down onto your tongue, and hooks it behind your teeth as he pulls you closer to him.

Drool begins to pool inside your mouth as you look up at him with wide eyes, trying to speak, to whine, and to say something, but he tightens his grip in response, growling lowly. It’s your second warning.

“I thought you were a smart girl? Didn’t I say that? Умница, Да? Act like one.”

His other hand, the one currently positioned near your calf, not having moved since pulling your pants roughly down your legs, inches its way upwards, brushing against the exposed skin and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Teasing, maybe, but it further ingrains his point into your head that, if you don’t start to behave and let him do the work, you won’t be getting any satisfaction or pleasure out of this.

He doesn’t care if this is your first time or not, and it’s not in a dismissive or cruel way. He’s simply treating you like he would any other person that he was going to have sex with, so it’s a mixture of equal rights and equal opportunity, you suppose. Whether or not that’s a good or a bad thing is… undetermined.

His palm presses against your thigh, fingers splayed as they continue to inch upward, branding your skin with the heat they exude, and, as much as you want to buck your thigh up into his palm and beg for him to rush and hurry up, you don’t. Because, lucky for you, that critical thinking skill is starting to work, the gears in your head are turning and allowing you the space to think. You have to be patient and good if you want what he can give you.

So, rather hesitantly, you wrap your lips around his thumb, gently gliding and swirling your tongue around his thumb, covering it in the slick, sticky saliva that pools in your mouth, looking up at him as you wait, playing that role of the smart girl that he wants you to be. Not rushing, not hurrying, and not begging.

And, oh, are you rewarded for it.

Nikolai lets out another deep and heavy "fuck," but this time it’s shaky and strained, the heat and movement of your tongue against his skin lighting up fireworks in his body that go straight down to his cock. His composure slips, if only momentarily, before he picks it right back up, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down onto it roughly, shakily breathing as he watches you with half-lidded eyes and a twitching grin.

“There you go. Much better.”

Nikolai’s fingers brush against the fabric of your panties, his eyes breaking away from your face as he looks down and leans his body back slightly, watching his own actions as, with one finger, he moves them to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to his wanting eyes, pushing it until it touches your other thigh, using his fingers to spread out your folds, listening to the squelching sounds they make.

He gently presses his thumb to your entrance, not yet pushing inwards, simply moving it around the area with purpose, listening to the sounds that it makes—a perfect symphony, if you were to ask him. He drags the pad of it upwards just as slowly, letting it glide and trail over the length of your pussy until he reaches your clit, his eyes flickering up at you as he presses down against it, making slow, gentle circles around it, watching you.

Even with your mouth wrapped around his thumb, you let out the prettiest moan, muffled into a hum as your hips jerk upwards unintentionally at his actions. Your eyelids flutter, twitching and arching your back in a quick spasmed motion, and he drinks in the sight of it with greed, his breaths so hot and heavy as he watches.

You’re going to put him in an early grave, Nikolai thinks to himself. How is he going to survive when you’re so good and so eager for him? Letting him play with your pretty pussy like this, toying and playing with it as if the action were innocent in nature without arguing, whining, and begging for more?

He’s being so mean to you when it’s your first time. He should be treating you so sweetly and nicely, shouldn't he? He should’ve sunk his cock into you a while ago, broken you in, and given you the soft lovemaking you deserve to have. He should’ve made you cum already; feel you squeeze him and listen to you make more of those pretty sounds that he’s starting to crave like a drug.

But that isn’t the man Nikolai is. But, then again, he can still recognize and appreciate your actions. He can still praise you and give you something of substance before he lets himself take away your innocence and let his most perverse thoughts run wild.

Taking his thumb out of your mouth and watching the drool drip down from it, Nikolai places it into his own mouth, sucking your taste from it until it’s clean. Only then does he bring his middle and ring fingers to your lips. And now, you know exactly what to do without instruction, leaning forward and taking them into your mouth, gagging softly as you take them as far back as you can, your tongue drooling and licking all over them, wetting them thoroughly.

And this time when he removes them, he quickly moves on to shift them to your other set of lips, smearing the saliva all over your cunt, right near your entrance. He teases the tip of one of his fingers around it, pressing in gently and slowly, taking his sweet time. His fingers are so much thicker than your own; one of them is akin to the width of two of your own.

It doesn’t hurt, nor does it strain too much. It’s bearable—something you can handle. That is, until he works to ease the second finger in, letting you get used to the feeling of one of his fingers inside of you for only a few moments before pressing the second one in. And this time, instead of your breath simply catching in your throat, it’s as if the wind has been knocked out of you, leaving you gaping and gasping. "O-oh, fuck, please."

You whisper out softly, your voice breaking into a whimper as your back fully arches against the mirror, your jaw slack as you moan out pathetically, closing it only to swallow the saliva in your mouth down harshly, making an audible gulp, before opening it once more, breathing out heavily with whimpers falling from your lips as he eases it in further. The burn from the stretch has you dizzy in the head—a mixture of pain from the sting of it and the pleasure of being filled so well.

Nikolai smiles slyly, pushing in all the way until his fingertip brushes against your cervix, cooing to you in a degrading manner as you cry out, your thighs instinctively squeezing together, trying to urge him away.

“What? Do you want me to stop?” Nikolai muses with a smug grin spread out across his lips, taunting you with the way he spreads his fingers out into a v-shape. He struggles against the tightness of your cunt, feeling your walls gripping onto him like a vice, but not stopping either way. He’s pushing you to your limits, maybe even far beyond them at this point, but everything he’s doing is sending your mind into a blurry haze of pleasure.

So much as him mentioning stopping makes you want to sob.

“No! No, no no no, please no. Please don’t stop. Please.”

You beg him with your breathing bordering on hyperventilation from how quickly you’re inhaling and exhaling, with a tone raw with emotion and desperation, just as it was before, but the contexts feel so different this time. You spread your legs impossibly wider, that burn from before feeling like nothing in comparison to the way he’s stretching you out right now, his fingers knuckle deep into you.

Nikolai lets out an amused hum in response, slowly closing his fingers, feeling the way you squeeze him and force them back together, before spreading them out wide once more, his thumb creeping its way up towards your clit. You can barely notice it, too busy moaning for him and trying your best to keep your legs spread as much as your body tries to fight it. Unshed tears brim at your eyes, a testament to how good it all feels.

And when his thumb eventually makes its way to your clit, applying pressure as it moves in slow circles, you swear on everything you hold dear that you could cum then and there. Your eyes roll back into your head the second he presses his fingers back together and starts to curl them upwards, hitting that gummy spot that makes your body go rigid with tension.

“Good. I need to get you ready for me, after all. It will not do either of us any good if you cannot take all of me.”

If you had even half of your brain working, you might be able to formulate some kind of response to his words, but, with your mind so overwhelmed with pleasure, all you can do is squeeze his fingers tighter and moan like a whore. He continues his motions of pumping and curling his fingers inside of you, his thumb gradually picking up its pace, swirling tighter, quicker circles around your clit.

You’re mouth is perpetually open, and all the sounds that rise up deep within your throat are bubbling up without a single barrier to block them, your hands gripping tightly onto his shirt with no intention of letting go. Nikolai takes them all in with pride, every sound fueling his ego and his desires, only encouraging him further to quicken his motions. With the way your whines get higher in pitch and the way your body tenses, he can practically taste how close you are.

His free hand moves up your chest, slipping underneath the fabric of your shirt and hooking his thumb beneath your bra, pushing both upwards. He stuffs the fabric of your shirt into your mouth, muffling your moans, and, while it isn’t necessarily his intention to do so, he just has to get a look at your tits.

He can see how hard your nipples are and the way your tits jerk and bounce softly with every catch and stutter of your breath, and the sight drives him just as wild as the picture of his fingers stuffed inside of you with a mixture of your drool and slick smeared messily around your cunt and all over his knuckles.

Nikolai can’t stop himself as he leans forward, ensuring that you meet his eyes with a gentle tap of his fingers against your cheek when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around it and his teeth gently grazing against it with a teasing bite. That sight and those sensations, combined with the way he’s been abusing your poor, puffy clit and pussy with his fingers, are all it takes to push you over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you with the force of a truck, completely knocking the wind out of you. Your breathing catches in your throat before stopping altogether for a moment, all of the blood in your body seemingly rushing to your ears. Your thighs snap shut, squeezing tightly around his wrist, and your eyes roll back into your head as far as they can go as you cum around his fingers, gushing and leaving them covered in your essence.

He lets you ride it out without saying a word, simply watching with a grin as you lose yourself in ecstasy—the pleasure that’s thrumming through your veins like nothing else you’ve ever experienced, and he knows it. The very sight of you like that has him gritting his teeth, growling out a low “yeah, there you go" against your chest as he detaches his mouth from your nipple, watching as you come undone, slowing down the movements of his fingers and thumb to let you ride out the waves of your orgasm undisturbed.

Your breathing stutters, that familiar glossy haze covering your eyes as you come back down to earth, blinking up dumbly at him as you regain your sense of awareness, opening and closing your jaw. All of that tension dissipates from your body with ease, fizzing out, leaving you practically boneless atop the bathroom sink, working on catching your breath as you try to remember how to think.

As you do that, looking down, Nikolai slowly pulls his fingers out of you, his eyes completely blown out as he watches the way your body tremors with aftershocks, shivering once he’s completely pulled out. Just like he knew they would be, his knuckles are covered in a ring on white, and the length of his fingers smeared with your cum and slick, soaked.

He wants to taste it; truly, he does, but that would just ruin what comes next.

Blinking, slowly coming out of the fog that the afterglow of your orgasm covers you in, you watch as Nikolai pulls back, bringing his hand away from your face as he brings it down towards his lower half, mumbling under his breath in Russian as he makes work of his belt singlehandedly, loosening it just enough that he can unbutton and unzip his pants. He doesn’t even shove them down his legs to kick them off fully, simply maneuvering the waistband of his boxers beneath his balls to free his cock.

And the sight of it sobers you up quickly.

How the fuck does he expect you to fit him inside of you?

“You’ll take it.” He tells you without missing a beat, confident, practically reading your mind because he’s become well acquainted with that very look that crossed over your features when you saw it. It makes him chuckle, if anything, using his hand covered in your juices and smearing it all across his length, and you can’t help but watch greedily at the sight, understanding exactly why he’s so obsessed with sound with the way the smearing of your slick and cum fills the air between you.

Nikolai takes a step back, not yet bringing his eyes away from the sight of his cock as he mixes your juices with his own pre-cum, eyebrows knitting as he loses himself in his own thoughts. After a moment, he clicks his tongue. The sound immediately catches your attention, effortlessly making you perk up and shift your eyes from his cock to his face.

“Get down from there and turn around. I want you bent over this sink.”

Oh, fuck. This is really happening.

You nod at him, gulping down harshly as you shuffle your body towards the edge of the sink until your ass is to the very edge of it, pressing the tips of your toes against the floor as you hop off of it. Granted, you nearly collapse, not having anticipated the force of your orgasm to leave you incapable of standing on your own, but, thankfully, your tight grip on the rim keeps you standing.

Nikolai lets out a huff of amusement at the sight, making no move to assist you as you awkwardly turn yourself around while still holding onto the edge, legs wobbling and shaking as you stand in front of the sink. Now, with the change in position, you can truly see just how fucked-out you look in the mirror, just like your friends had been once before on the chance that you saw them before they left tonight.

Your hair’s a mess, strands stringing out in every direction, fuzzy with static, and your lips are completely swollen and bruised from how hard Nikolai kissed you. Drool dribbles past the side of your mouth and down your chin, eyes red from unshed tears, pupils blown out and darker than you ever would have imagined they would be. You look like an entirely different person in some ways, but in others, you look exactly the same.

But Nikolai doesn’t exactly have time for you to admire yourself in the mirror, so, with a grumble, he takes a step forward, moving his hand to your upper back, seemingly sweet and intimate with his actions, before roughly pressing you down against the sink, your nipples coming into contact with the cold surface of it, making you moan out and shiver. With his free hand, he pulls your panties down to your thighs, ensuring they won’t be in the way or an issue, before moving his hand back to hold onto his cock.

“You can admire yourself when you’re wrapped around me, лапушка. I gave you a command, so… I expect you to listen to it. Поняла?”

He kicks your feet further apart with his boots, gliding his hand down the expanse of your back and moving your shirt up the slightest bit so he can admire your ass. He taps his cock against the curve of your ass, obsessed with the wet sound it makes, letting out a deep, gutteral groan as he trails his tip along it lazily, tilting his head to the side. His thumb gently caresses the skin, rubbing up and down in a small area before suddenly removing it, only to bring it down with a harsh smack against it.

The sensation makes you lurch forward, yelping out loudly, completely caught off guard, not having expected it in the slightest. As much as you want to say that you don’t like it… the way that your cunt clenches around nothing in anticipation combined with the breathless moan you let out is undeniable. It’s an easy indication of your desires and how much you truly enjoy the sting it leaves behind on your ass.

“I said поняла?”

Nikolai growls out, breath fanning along your neck as you hear his voice right next to your ear, his hand pressing down into your lower back to support himself as he lines himself up with your entrance, bringing his tip to glide up and down through your folds, the squelching sound it makes causing you both to shutter in anticipation. You let out a pitiful whine at the feeling, one that earns you another harsh smack against your other cheek, forcing tears to your eyes.

“I don’t know Rus-”

He doesn’t even let you finish your words before he’s plunging his cock into you, pressing through your entrance and bottoming out in one swift thrust, enveloping himself in your soaked heat.

“Ебена мать!”

Nikolai curses out, muffling himself as he bites down hard enough on his bottom lip to taste blood. The squeeze of your tight pussy around him is enough to make him feel lightheaded and dizzy, gasping as he takes in a shuttering breath and pressing his forehead between your shoulderblades as he pants.

He fills you up completely with his cock, stretching your already sore cunt far past its limits as his tip presses against your cervix. Your eyes are forced to screw shut tightly as you try to grasp onto anything, but, alas, the countertop that spreads out along the edge of the sink is completely smooth, leaving you helpless.

You dig your fingers into your palms as a solution, your knuckles turning white as you press your forehead against the cool surface, trying desperately to ground yourself as a means to combat the stinging pain that comes with the stretch. The sensation is overwhelming, with all of your nerves feeling as if they’ve been lit ablaze.

It makes you want to writhe—to wriggle yourself out of his hold and scramble away from just how much it aches and burns. But, as you wait, your breath coming out in strained, stuttered breaths, you realize that he isn’t moving whatsoever. He keeps himself buried inside of you, completely still, his chest pressed against your back, as he breathes in with considerable effort and breathes out with just as much strain.

So, as the both of you lay there waiting for the pain to subside, you’re able to focus on and enjoy the feeling and be completely and utterly full. When Nikolai had his fingers inside of you earlier, you thought that that sensation was the most full you were going to feel. But, with the way that his cock leaves no extra space inside of you, filling you to the brim in a way where you can feel him bulging out against your tummy, you realize how enjoyable the sensation is.

It’s intimate and almost comforting, in a way, to have someone fill you up completely.

So, as you lie there, focusing on that sensation, you can feel that initial discomfort and overwhelmingness dissipate, leaving you solely with that fullness. It feels good, you come to find out, much better than anything you’ve ever felt before, and all you can think about is how much better you know that Nikolai can make it. So, you choose to gently press your ass back into him, taking him in impossibly deeper and giving him the subtle indication that you’re ready.

You feel him suck in a sharp breath that fands out against your skin. In a slow, fluid motion, he draws his hips back, pulling his cock out far enough that only the tip of it is left inside of you, before giving a gentle thrust to his hips and plunging himself back into you. The two of you moan out simultaneously, the sound he makes being more of a groan in nature and yours more of a whine, feeling the way he moves his hand to hold at your waist.

“Nik…” You whine out to him, your voice cracking into breathlessness as you feel him thrust slowly in and out of, the desire to beg for more threatening to pass through your lips, but the harsh squeeze he gives to either of your hips shuts you up instantly, listening to the way he strains to breathe and speak, rolling his hips with each thrust, ensuring he can get as deep inside of you as he can, his tip brushing against your cervix each time without fail.

Nikolai lets out a particularly heavy breath, grunting as he snaps his hips with a bit more force into you. Steadily, he begins to pick up speed with each in and out of his cock, much to your delight, losing himself in the wet, squishy noises it makes with the motion.

“I am going to fucking ruin you. Mold you to my cock so that nobody will ever be able to make you feel as good as I do.”

He mumbles it out, primarily to himself, even though you can clearly hear it, standing up and leaning back slightly. He lazily turns his head to the side, eyes focused on the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing with each thrust he makes, trailing up the length of your back and looking into the mirror, getting to witness it from a different perspective. The vision makes his cock twitch inside of you, forcing another groan out of him.

Taking one of his hands away from your hip, Nikolai reaches it upwards, finding the base of your neck, fingers splaying out as they cup the back of your head, before reaching forwards, tangling themselves into the strands of your hair, and pulling. The motion forces your back to arch, your head lifting away from the expanse of the sink, your eyes boring into… your own, the mirror giving you a perfect view of yourself.

Jaw slack, drool dripping past your lips, tongue out, eyes blown wide, hair a mess of strands, tits out, bent over with the prettiest sounds freely falling from your lips as you get fucked from behind in a shitty bar bathroom by a man you’ve barely met an hour ago. Nikolai takes in the same scene, his eyes watching yours as you focus on yourself, grunting out with each thrust, shamelessly making noise to properly translate just how much he’s enjoying this.

“But you would like that, да? To be unable to enjoy anyone else fucking you because I’m the one who took you first.”

Another slap to your ass leaves you reeling, your eyes rolling back into your head as he thrusts himself in deep, snapping his hips with a roughness that forces the air out of your lungs before you can even take in another breath. You feel him readjust his grip on your hair, forcing your back to arch even further as he growls, bouncing you along the length of his cock as he fucks into you with vigor.

The coil that resides in your lower stomach begins to slowly but surely tighten with each thrust, accompanied by your own pathetic moaning, whining, and keening—those beautiful tears falling down the length of your face without anything to hold them back. Your eyes glisten, flickering away from your own expression as you opt to watch his own, seeing the way he bites onto his bottom lip to hold back his moans and whines, even as he fails to do so without any resistance.

“Such a desperate whore for my cock, aren’t you? It is amusing how you’ve never had sex yet act like a slut.” Nikolai coos out cruelly, emphasizing his words with a particular harsh thrust that has you drooling, letting his own hand grip at your waist as he pulls you back into each thrust, ensuring he bottoms out each and every time without fail. The obscene sound of his balls slapping against your soaked, sticky cunt fills the air. You can feel his tip slam against that spongey spot on your inner walls—the one that makes your toes curl and leaves you feeling boneless—and when he hears the sound you make, he’s relentless in focusing all of his attention right there.

God, it makes you see stars. You feel so unbelievably full in a way you’ve never felt before, each thrust of his thick, fat cock ripping the air from your lungs, leaving you sweaty and breathless. It’s overwhelming, yet in a way that makes you never want it to stop. Drool drips onto the counter from your tongue, hanging off in stringy globs, flicking back and forth with each thrust. You can feel yourself getting close, your walls closing in on him with a grip that leaves him groaning and growling, completely pussydrunk off of you as his eyes catch on to all of the different telltale signs he’s coming to learn from you.

The way your eyelids twitch when your eyes roll back, the way your whole body tenses up with anticipation, and the way your noises get so much higher pitched

He’s never letting you go after this, he decides. Nobody is going to get to have you once he’s done with you—once he’s claimed you. He was your first, and he’d be damned if he let anyone other than himself be your second, your third, and so on and so forth.

“Come on, красивая вещь. Cum on my cock. You can do it.”

Nikolai growls out, his fingers bruising against the flesh of your waist as he holds on to tightly, as if you’d slip through his fingers if he were to loosen it, if only by a fraction. And you’ve learned from your lesson before that, being a smart girl and knowing to do what he says when he says it, so your body instinctively reacts to his command. Blinding, white-hot pleasure courses through your veins, ever nerve ending in your body, feeling like it’s on fire when you gush around him. You feel your entire body go rigid with tension,your, heart stopping for a moment, unable to breathe or see from just how hard you cum.

Oh, you feel like jelly. If you thought you were boneless before, the way his grip on your hair is the only thing keeping you up right now really shows you what “bonelessness” feels like. 

Your entire body convulses, spasming and twitching and jerking you as you fight the overstimulation of him still ruthlessly pounding into your pussy, whining and keening as you babble out incoherently at him, everything making you so dizzy with pleasure. Nikolai himself isn’t that much farther behind you, the squeeze of your pussy bringing him teetering over the edge, barely able to pull out in time with a strained grunt of your name as hot, thick cum spurts from his twitching cock.

Ropes of it leak from his cock, painting pretty white lines against your ass as he groans out gutturally, leaning his head back as he basks in his own pleasure. He pants out heavy, each breath strained with effort as he blinks, chest heaving as he struggles to regain control over his own breathing, letting his eyes drop back down to admire the scene before him. There’s this dazed, lopsided smile that’s spread out across your lips, your eyes glazed over with ecstasy, just like before, but the difference in seeing your fucked-out face cockdrunk off of him. Oh, that just makes it all the better.

He blinks a few times, his jaw slack as he swallows down his own saliva and pants, his hand moving to smear his cum messily along your ass, rubbing it into your skin as if it were lotion. He knows it’ll stick to his own clothes if he does, but he can’t help himself nor care as he leans himself against you, bending over you, allowing himself to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades as his body comes down from such an intense high.

Seeing you like this, having you like this… it’s something he doubts he could ever leave.

His breaths come into sync with your own; the steady breathing, lungs filling with air, and breathing out, expelling all of that air, is an action that the both of you focus on as one, uncaring about anything else but this moment. You feel him mumble something against your back, unable to make it out through the haze of your afterglow, unable to hear all the whispers of praise he allocates to you, pressing gentle kisses against your shirt.

The moment is undeniably intimate, something you may not suspect from him, especially given the way that he treated you. But it makes sense, the way he has this imposing and overwhelmingly dominating persona that he leans on, yet can be equally caring and loving when the situation requires it. It’s a delicate balance that he maintains, further proving the extents of his own control, both over his partners and himself, and you can’t help but appreciate and admire it.

But unfortunately, the calm atmosphere that begins to settle between the two of you is so rudely interrupted by the sound of multiple harsh, sharp poundings against the door to the bathroom. Even though the door remains locked, which, thank God, Nikolai had done, the handle still gets jiggled with haste. Muffled, barely audible conversation can be heard happening from beyond the door, but it doesn’t seem like, according to your actions, that each of you cares all that much.

“Nikolai! Hurry up in there. If you don’t come out soon, we’re taking your truck back and leaving you here.”

A gruff, deep Scouse accent barks out, muffled only by the barrier of the wooden bathroom door that continues to shake from the sheer force of the pounding the knocks have been making against it. Nikolai groans out with a mixture of frustration and annoyance against the fabric of your shirt, still working to catch his breath as his pants begin to slow down, the heat of them seeping through the fabric and sticking to your skin.

“Maybe I should let him…” He mumbles out for only you to hear, his palm gently rubbing up and down the curve of your ass, working to soothe that ache that lingers from his harsh, sharp smacks. He presses a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades, trailing his lips upwards as he follows your spine and the curve of your neck, leading him to make his way to press them along the edge of your jawline. The sensation makes you let out a shuttering breath, which is uneven and shaky in nature.

The afterglow of your orgasm still lingers, mixing in with the dull ache left behind by the rough way he treated your cunt, your mind hazy as it swirls with pleasure, focusing on those sensations and nothing else, not even his words. You let out a soft hum in response, still fucked out and dumb without a single thought occupying the space in your head, not even knowing what it is exactly that you’re acknowledging. It makes him chuckle.

“Good first time; I take it, then?” He muses smugly, knowing full well that you won’t be able to give him a proper answer. But, with the look that shines behind your eyes and the state that he’s left you in, he doesn’t even have to ask that question to know the answer to it. 

So, with a heavy and reluctant sigh, pressing one last kiss to your jawline, he pulls himself back. Gently, he moves to rest your head back down against the sink, turning his gaze downward as he tucks his softening cock back into his boxers. He pulls back up his pants, re-buttoning and zipping them, and fastening his belt through the loops. He composes himself after doing so, smoothing down his clothes and checking himself in the mirror. 

Well, as composed as a man who just fucked can, you guess. Then he moves on to you. He presses gently kisses along your exposed skin, helping your boneless form readjust your bra and pull down your shirt, pulling back up your panties and pants, ensuring they’re all situated as he gives you a once-over from behind, pulling you against him as he checks you out in the mirror in front of you. A kiss is pressed to the side of your neck as he looks at you in the mirror, his eyes still half-lidded and a smirk adorning his lips.

“Come on, лапушка. Focus. It will be hard to walk if your legs don’t work, да?”

He teases lightheartedly, helping bring you back to reality as he helps you stand, your knees buckling instantly, but he never lets go of you once, remaining patient as the pins and needles slowly but surely dissipate, and you’re able to stand on your own, finally able to string a sentence together and cultivate coherent thoughts Still leaning into him, even if you don’t need his support anymore, you let out a soft whine laced with disapproval.

He hums, wordlessly acknowledging you.

"I don't want you to go." You complain, drawing out the last syllable as you voice out your thoughts to him, not at all ready to depart and go back by yourself. To, quite possibly and realistically, never see him again once he leaves. You aren’t ready for that, as selfish as it might be to admit. He chuckles at your words, not out of malice but out of loving amusement, gently turning you around so that you’re facing him, tilting your head up with one of his fingers curled under your chin. 

“Well… I suppose my comrades can find their own way home, don’t you think? They’re capable enough. You, however…”

He trails off with a chuckle, wordlessly acknowledging your state with raised eyebrows and a shit-eating grin, to which you can only whine out into the air between you both, clearly not amused as he is by his words. But once you’re actually able to register what he means by that, you look up at him with parted lips, that dumb expression still on your face, but now it’s more endearing than anything.

He leans forward, the scruff of his facial hair scratching gently against your skin as he presses a kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger around the area for a few moments before ultimately pulling back.

“Let me take you home. You might have lost your virginity, but… that was only in one position. I think it’s only fair I help you lose it in all of them, don’t you think?”

It’s cocky and overwhelmingly confident—exactly what made you turn down the others who had tried their luck convincing you to have sex with them earlier in the night—but, coming from Nikolai, it’s a trait of his that has you hooked. Be it good or bad, you can’t find any part of yourself that’s inclined to refuse his open offer. So, with a dopey, lopsided smile that spreads out across your lips, you nod, accepting.

Because he’s right: it’s only fair.

Умница - smart girl

апушка - sweetheart

Нет - no

Да - yes

Поняла - understand

Ебена мать - holy shit

Красивая вещь - beautiful thing

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 005

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Little bit of smut (It's like 5 paragraphs long)

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha @the-deep-dark-abyss @101crows @agustdeeyaaa @ggglich-exe @illjhhlisa

WC: 13.1K

“You were out awfully late,” Aegon spoke as he stood up straight. “And that doesn’t belong to you.” He looked down towards your attire, more specifically your coat.

“And this is none of your business.” You gave a bitter smile as you went to open your door. However, before you could enter inside Aegon grabbed your arm.

“You smell like a Dragon, who were you out with?” Damn! Someone had taken you to see the Dragons before Aegon. He wondered if you let them have their way with you. 

“Like I said, it doesn’t concern you. Now let me go, Aegon.” To your surprise he did.

“You know, if you want to ride a bigger dragon I have one.” He smiled walking closer to you, smiling, pushing your hair back. 

“Really? How big?” Why you acted this way? You couldn’t say. Perhaps it was the dull ache that was starting to form in between your legs. One that had been present since your ride back to King’s Landing.

“Bigger than the one you just had, I can promise you that.” He smiled down towards you and you gave one back. 

“Does it have a name?” You looked down to his lips then back towards him and he grinned.

“Sunfyre.” He whispered out leaning down to meet you.

You leaned forward. “That’s a cute name…”

“Once I show you, I promise you won’t think it’s just ‘cute.’” He went to capture your lips but you turned away at the last second and instead of your lips he kissed your cheek. 

“Well goodnight to you too Aegon. I look forward to meeting Sunfyre.” You pulled away with a smile and closed the doors of your chambers. 

You took off the sweater and to your surprise (and slight annoyance), Dyana was still in your room. “Have you been here all day?” You asked with a flat smile. She nodded with a book in her hands. You had taken to showing her how to read. “Poor thing, have you eaten?” She shook her head. 

“Me neither, why don’t you go to the kitchen, have them prepare whatever you’d like plus my fruits and vegetables washed with boiled water and have another maid prep me for a bath. I reek of dragon.” You sighed putting Jacaerys sweater on a chair. Dyana bowed and seemed hesitant to walk out. She was worried that Aegon would see her. He had been outside your door nearly all day since you left. 

“If you’re worried about anyone seeing you, just tell them I sent you.” You spoke, sending her out looking around oblivious to the dilemma the girl faced around Aegon. 

It wasn’t long before a bath was prepared and you eagerly took off your clothes and dipped into the hot water. As you scrubbed yourself Dyana entered with the plate of food. “Eat first girl then feed me once I’m done bathing.” You scrubbed yourself. As you did you paused to think and looked over towards Dyana. There she was watching you yet it did nothing to shame you for the dull ache that grew stronger with every moment you spent in this bathtub. 

Deciding against dinner you sent her away as you made your way out of the tub drying yourself trying to distract yourself. The man was promised to someone else. Though, clearly by his reactions…you smiled over towards his coat and ran your hands along the inside of it. You took in the scent and it only served to increase your want for him. 

You sighed and turned away from the coat. You didn’t want to grow desprate. Desperation makes poor decisions and here poor decisions can cost your life. 

Despite this your…desperation was still ever present. 

Dyana returned once more, taking the final bowl and right outside you saw the solution to your desperation. 

Aemond Targaryen.

You gave a slow blink as your mind fogged with that familiar feeling. After all, you did promise to show him your invention.

…

As Aemond was walking back to his chambers with a book in hand he heard a familiar saccharine voice calling him. 

“Prince Aemond Targaryen.” There you stood peeking from behind your doors with a relaxed smile. “I finished my little invention and you’re the first person to see, as promised.” 

Against his better judgment, he turned around walking closer to you and the sweet smell you always seemed to carry. There was no one in sight other than your maid who had left moments before you called his name. He saw your hand extend to him and he took it and felt you pull him inside your chambers. He looked at you in your robes before looking away to observe your room.

It was clean and smelled quite sweet, how you had gotten it to smell so sweet he couldn’t say. If he kept his doors closed it would just smell like candle wax but your room smelled so unbelievably sweet mixed with something else he couldn’t name. 

He looked towards your desk and on it sat a paper filled with equations and letters. 

“Curious?” You mumbled behind him and he observed the paper trying to piece together the equation but no matter how long he looked at it, he couldn’t understand. 

“What is this?” He asked and watched your hand come from behind him and suddenly he noticed just how close you were to him. He watched you finger-track the problem as you whined about how it was something that had kept you cooped up in your room. It was only as he trailed your nimble finger that he saw you had long white nails. It was unusual, but they looked very appealing. 

He turned around and looked down towards you and caught the sight of the valley that ran in between your breasts and for the first time Aemond took time to asses the situation you had pulled him into. He took in a deep breath in attempts to calm himself though it served no use as all he inhaled was the sweet scent you emitted.

Aemond was not blind despite the lack of an eye, he could very much see the way you had his older brother trailing after you ever since the night he danced with you. You were very different from any other woman here and you liked to play games, even if they did get you in trouble. He was just your latest plaything. Did he mind? Maybe not. You were a very different woman than who took him when he was thirteen. He was no longer a boy, but a man with a very pretty woman in front of him. He stepped closer to you seeing just how far you were willing to commit to your game.

You stepped away from him. It seemed like you weren’t one to commit. “Come I promised that you would be the first.” Whether the implication was there or not Aemond chose to take it more than its face value. 

You turned to him as he followed you and suddenly that lustful gaze he swore he saw in you was gone instead replaced with that same innocent smile when you told him that it was you who injured his uncle. “I call it a fan, though the longer name is pedestal fan.” Aemond moved past you to feel the cool air it gave though it made no sound.

It spun at fast speeds and he turned to you with a furrowed brow. “How is it moving?” How did a woman such as yourself figure out such a curious invention? Aemond had kept small tabs on you ever since you had made your little splash with Daemon. While it was common knowledge that you had helped his father’s health greatly, he did discover that you now seemed invaluable to his grandsire and mother. 

“Physics.” You answered in a smooth tone looking up towards him, the uncomfortable feeling in between your legs becoming more apparent by the minute.

“Physics?” Aemond questioned. Was it another one of your words that you seemingly made up? Aemond had spent the better part of his life researching all kinds of things but never read about ‘physics.’

“More specifically Newton’s laws of motion.” You sauntered away from him and Aemond followed you. 

“Laws of motion,” Aemond whispered out trying to recall if he had read anything about.

“You haven’t read about it, it doesn’t exist here yet.” You spoke with a smug smile on your face while you leaned back and he gave a better view of the cleavage of your breasts. “The laws of course have been here since the beginning of time, but they aren’t named until the year of 1666 and not published till 1687.” You smiled standing straight and walking towards him. “Do you want to take a glimpse into the future Aemond?” You purred out and if it wasn’t the lust haze in your mind, you would’ve renamed the laws right then and there after yourself. 

Aemond found himself nodding. A familiar fog was beginning to fill his mind and his breeches were getting tighter on him by the minute. 

“The law I used to make my little invention is inertia, or in other words the first law of motion.” You trailed your fingers on his chest picking at the straps of his coat until they came apart and he slipped it off leaving him in his shift and breeches. Aemond made quick work of his shoes and his hands went to the belt that kept your robe together. 

“The first law states that every object will remain at rest or in uniform motion in a straight line unless compelled to change its state by the action of an external force.” You spoke in a smooth voice and pushed him away and he fell on your bed. You walked forward and slowly the knot on your belt began to undo itself. “This tendency to resist changes in a state of motion is inertia. So can you tell me who was the external force and who was the object forced to move?” 

The concept was fairly simple but Aemond’s mind was clouded with you and what was to come next. You stopped walking looking at him expectantly. “I thought you said you wanted to learn?” 

“You were the external force and I was the object forced to move when you pushed me.” He breathed out quickly. You smiled and nodded, holding his face with your hand. “Such a smart boy. Maybe you are the smart one after all,” Aemond nodded looking up toward you as his hands moved to undo his breeches and slid them down letting himself free. 

“The Second Law: Force.” You straddled him carefully to not let him slip into you and to only have him resting against your folds. He groaned bucking upwards and you breathed heavily as it hit your clit. “The…acceleration of an object…” You breathed trying to get your sentence out trying to keep him from moving. “Depends on the mass of the object… and the amount of force applied. You wanna tell me the equation?” 

“I-” He groaned as you moved forward ever so slightly. “I do not know.” 

“Yes you do, come one. Force is defined by a change-!” Your breath hitched as you tried to not let your moan out as he thrusted forward once more hitting your clit. “In momentum which is just mass by…velocity per change in time. So what’s the equation?” 

Aemond breathed hard as you moved yourself back and forth on him. “I- I do not-!” You reached down to squeeze the head of his manhood and he nearly moaned. 

“Come on force…” You breathed out looking down towards him. 

“Force…” He spoke with his eyes closed as he held your hips trying to stop himself from bucking upwards.

“Equals mass…” You grabbed his face forcing him to look at you. His eye was looked towards you then down where your hand held him and you moved slightly back and forth. 

“Equals mass…” Aemond only repeated what you said not understanding a single word you said.

“Multiplied by acceleration.” You finished and let go of him letting him rut against your clit and leaned down biting his shoulder hiding your moans while Aemond kept desperately moving. 

He removed to remove his shift leaving him bare before you while your robe remained covering you. 

You pushed his hip down to stop him from moving anymore. “The Third and Final Law…” You breathed out trying to catch your breath. “Action,” Aemond opened your robes looking at your naked figure, and watched your nipples harden from the sudden temperature change. “And Reaction.” You smiled down towards him but Aemond was lost looking at your breasts. He leaned upwards taking one in his mouth, biting a bit and you arched your back into him. He groaned as he kept your breast in his mouth then took the other in his hand kneading it like they were his own toys. 

You pushed his head away from you and you saw a string of saliva as he let go.

“Whenever one object exerts a force on a second object…” You tried to push him down but he didn’t move instead keeping you snug against him and your breast was squished against his face. “The second object exerts an equal and opposite force on the first.” You spoke with a smile on your face.

He pulled you down to kiss him. As you did you bit his lip and he opened his mouth in surprise and you pulled away smiling. You rocked your hips and once more he pulled you down to kiss you muffling his groans and your moans. The knot in your stomach became tighter as he keeps rutting into you. You both breathed in as you stayed impossibly close to him, your foreheads touching as you moved your hips and he cantered upwards. You dug your nails into his back and bit down on his shoulder hard to muffle your moans as the knot in your stomach became undone. You got off him as he finished himself off using his hand while you watched.

He finished and it spurted on his stomach and you watched it soften as he fell back onto your bed and smiled. 

“Be honest…” You struggled to catch your breath. “Am I a good teacher?” You grinned and he looked over with a smirk on his face as he struggled to catch his breath. “Your examples could use some work,” Aemond said, taking in the sight of your naked body. 

 ��“Is that so? I’ll keep it in mind the next time I teach these laws.” You grinned and grabbed your hair using it to pull you forward to capture your lip in a kiss. 

“No one else has to learn these laws,” He spoke before he gave a quick chaste kiss.

You pulled away with a brow lifted. “These are very important laws, it is imperative that all learn.” 

“Your teaching methods I’m afraid wouldn’t suit others.” He spoke pulling your hair while he left marks on collar bones. 

You laughed letting him leave his marks. Not like you couldn’t cover them up anyway.

…

“If one parent has brown eyes and the other has blue eyes, the children have a fifty percent chance of inheriting brown eyes which is heterozygous b, and a fifty percent chance of blue eyes which is homozygous recessive b.” You muttered out as you calculated the problem. After two weeks you had finally reached Rhaenyra’s possible genetic code along with Laenor’s. In this problem it was assumed that dark eyes were dominant over the blue eyes Rhaenerya had.

You resumed working on the dreadful problem not long after you told Aemond to leave your chambers. It would be a bad look if he left in the morning. You felt regret creeping up on you as you looked towards your messy bed sheets. 

“Oh god.” You whispered, covering your face with your hands. What have you done? That wasn’t supposed to happen, that wasn’t you. Last night couldn’t have been you. You refused to acknowledge what you had done. 

A knock sounded at the door and you looked up to see Dyana coming in with your breakfast and the bowls of water you had every morning to clean your face and brush your teeth. Getting up you went to do your usual morning routine.

“Dyana, take the sheets to be washed and have a bath ordered for me.” You told her as you spat into the bowl. 

“M’lady, they were washed yesterday. The soap is harsh on the clothes…” Dyana shut up when she saw your unamused face before she nodded, taking apart the bed and taking the sheets to go have them washed.

Dyana left you standing alone in your room and you turned around to face your fan. “You made me do something I’m not proud of.” You lectured your fan. It was stupid what you did. He was a Prince, and while technically there was no…“insertion”…that didn’t rid that chance of you of something unplanned happening. You could NOT have that happening, not here, never here. All this was supposed to be is to have a little fun playing with them then leave them all behind to become the greatest figure of history ever.

You walked into the separate room where they had your bathtub filled with hot water and your soap nearby. Stepping into the hot water you hissed out as your body became used to the temperature. As you sat in the bathtub you hugged your knees thinking about your poor actions. You would swear off no more boys in your room but you had one coming over tonight. 

“That's not gonna happen again.” You reassured yourself. No funny business would happen with Jacaerys. You were just going to surprise him and be done. That was it, nothing more. 

“Shame.” It was all you said before you submerged yourself into the water. Maybe if you stayed under long enough you’d wake up in a hospital room and this would all be a dream. Who knew this could bring you so much shame and guilt. 

Alas when you went up for air you did not wake up surrounded by white walls of a hospital. You looked to the side and there was a maid you didn’t recognize. 

“Apologies my lady, his grace, King Viserys calls for you.” She spoke as she held out your bathrobe and once more you were reminded of the events that transpired the night before. 

“It is early, did he say what he wanted?” You asked about putting on the robe. 

“No.” It was all she said before she began drying you so that you would slip into the dress easily. The maid’s eyes went to your collar bone which bore deep purple marks courtesy of Aemond. You muttered a small curse as you covered yourself up. 

“Would you like me to fetch you a high neck dress?” The maid murmured as she picked up the dress that was laid on your bed. It was a dark green dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline with a structured bodice. You touched the material and shook your head. It would look suspicious if you wore a covering dress when it was so hot and you famously didn’t mind showing skin. “My lady you will be seeing the King and such marks…” The maid trailed off. 

“What marks?” You spoke as you dropped your robes ready to be dressed. Soon enough the hickies would be covered and no one would be none the wiser. 

The maid stayed silent as she dressed you and you looked at the deep purple marks that littered your chest by the rusted mirror on your dresser. Once you were dressed you told the maid to leave as you pulled out your makeup to cover the hickies. With a little contour you accentuated your collar bones and then you got to work on your actual face. It would be best if you had everyone looking towards your exposed chest to confirm for themselves that nothing was there if the maid was stupid enough to gossip about this. 

Once you were ready you dabbed some perfume before slipping on slippers that were provided for you and made your way to the King. As you walked the halls you saw lingering gazes, there was no way new could spread that fast, could it? Either way it seemed best if you paraded yourself around today so that they could confirm with their own eyes that there was absolutely nothing on your chest. 

This news couldn’t reach Alicent or Otto. Being out with Jacaerys was one thing, but knowing you had a little too much fun that was deemed appropriate with her son and his grandson. Well that wouldn’t be good. 

Entering the King’s Chamber you bowed greeting both the King and to your surprise Alicent was there as well.

“The lavender works, but I require something stronger.” Viserys told you as Alicent stood beside him. 

Stronger? Did he want opioids? Did he get addicted to the milk? “Stronger?”

“I find myself riddled with stress as of late. With my brother and my daughter and of course I have been told there have been incidents with my children and grandchildren. It is nice to have my family reunited however, a certain level of stress does return. I plan to return to ruling and of course that also carries its own stress. Would you know of anything to…reduce this stress.” Viserys spoke in a surprisingly even tone. The change between him and two weeks ago was very remarkable.  

You cracked your head for anything that would help but you came up empty handed. What it sounded like was that he wanted drugs. Hell you wanted some too, with this latest scandal that was sure to occur and that damn problem that seemed to carry a result that would not be good for your conscience. You wanted something to take the edge off. What you needed was some- You smiled as an idea popped in your head. “I think I might have something. I’d have to make a trip to wherever is most humid. If I can find it, I think it could help.” 

“The river lands. They are plenty humid, should I arrange a carriage for your trip?” Alicent spoke looking over to her hand maid ready to order her. 

“Is there anything…faster? I would rather not risk leaving for long lest the King need me.” You spoke looking to Viserys. Hopefully you could ride on dragonback. You rather enjoyed yesterday ignoring everything that it led to. 

“Yes, you’re right, dragonback would be fastest.” Viserys pointed. 

“My King, who would take her?” Alicent argued. You were a fine girl in Alicent’s mind, but to have her sons alone with you, much less Aegon who was so clearly pinning after you. It was not something you would enjoy. 

“Mayhaps Aegon or Aemond.” Viserys spoke and your lips pursed. You’d rather a more…neutral party. Aegon was ever eager to be with you and you hadn’t even sought out Aemond since this morning when he left. “Helena enjoys riding as well.” Viserys spoke and you perked up. 

Yes, another woman would be fine company.

“What of the twins?” Alicent asked. Honestly she would prefer you leave on horseback. 

“We would be gone at most for two to four days. It won’t take me long to survey from the skies.” You desperately did not want to by carriage. No pain-killers or anything to take for motion sickness. No thank you.

“Yes and Heleana is quite fond of insects. Helaena will take you.” Viserys agreed and Alicent remained silent as she looked at you. Normally Rhaenerya would be the only one Viserys would hear above her, but now here you stood with a smile on your face standing tall wearing one of the dresses she gifted you. The dress of a Queen. 

Alicent watched you go. As you left and the door closed there she saw Larys Strong as he limped by looking directly at her. She gave a small sigh as the door closed leaving her with her husband.

…

“I hear the lady has taken a lover. Many guards claim they saw her come late into the castle last night and a maid claims that she had the marks only a lover could make this morning.” A voice whispered. 

“I saw her only a moment ago entering the King’s chambers. She bore no such marks. The neckline of the dress was deep and I looked.” A second one whispered out. 

“You think the maid lies?” The first gasped out.

“May the Seven forgive me but the lady is a crone! She never leaves her chambers unless she is summoned by the King, how could she have a lover? Who would be her lover?” The second responded with a little laugh. 

“The lady still arrived late last night.” The first reason. 

“She has left the castle many times with Prince Aemond and do you remember what everyone said then? That the prince was her lover when in fact she only left to buy steel. If she did have a lover would she not request moontea?” The second continued.

“She is a strange woman. Mayhaps she does not need it because she is barren or has her own brew. If she can heal the King, she can kill a babe in her womb.” The first huffed out and the second one gasped at the idea. 

Jacaerys stayed still listening as the maids spoke about you. He had heard the rumors that Aemond was your lover quite a while ago, though they proved unfounded. Though he did feel guilt start pooling in his stomach when he was responsible for your late arrival last night. Did people think he was your lover? That thought made him smile even though no one knew it was he who was responsible for your late arrival.

He had not come out unscathed either. His brother, Luke, had caught him on his way back to his room which at the time he was rather eager to get to. Luke would not stop teasing him about you, but was quick to remind him that he was promised to Baela. Jacaerys liked Baela, both he and she would make a nice pairing and keep the lineage of the Dragon within Valyrian blood. 

That's why Jacaerys was torn on going to your chambers tonight or to simply leave this as it is before it is too late to go back. You were not from here. He understood that. Not when you spoke of all these things that he had never heard of. You were smart, smarter than the average woman, and certainly smarter than any educated woman he had met. What so many Maesters had failed to do, you did in two weeks. Your mannerisms, your accent, your stance, your unwillingness to bend to the social norms of this world. You were just so different, and Jacaerys doesn’t think there is any other place that can foster a person such as you. Dorne is the only place he can think of, but yet Dorne does not have ‘barbie’ or ‘cars’ and all the other things you mentioned.

Dornish women were taught to wield weapons yet you did not seem familiar with swords or knives. In fact you did not seem accustomed to fighting and what you did to Daemon (Which he found out through gossip) seemed more like a stroke of luck than you seemingly knowing how to fight.

Could he go? Maybe if you had said that you wanted to leave. Maybe if he had known that you weren’t going to stay here. Just maybe he’d follow in his mother’s footsteps in her youth. (He heard from Daemon) 

Maybe he shouldn’t be in the West Wing. Maybe he shouldn't knock. Maybe he shouldn’t accept your hand so easily as you pulled him in. Maybe he shouldn’t relish the smell of you that was so potent in your room. Maybe he should start taking off his shift. 

Maybe it was already too late.

“What are you doing? Where are your clothes at?” You asked with a lifted brow.

“I thought…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Uh…no. Unfortunately that is not happening.” You laughed out looking at him. (Had he done this last night it would’ve been a very different story) 

Jacaerys took in a deep breath turning around though he doubts that did much to cover the pink that was coating his neck and back and was reaching his face. “Then what is the surprise?” He asked as soon as he put his shift back on.  

“You don’t think I have anything else to offer other than my body?” You asked with a lifted brow looking him up and down with a judgmental look.

“No. That was not my intention. I only meant-” He moved his hands trying to explain himself.  

“Relax, I’m joking.” You smiled but then paused. “Partially.” Was all you said as you pulled out a small black box and crawled on your bed beckoning him in. 

“Are you sure my lady?” This was most improper. An unmarried man with an unmarried woman together alone in one’s chamber room. Even worse, on the bed. He watched you sit upright on the bed. At the very least you wore the breeches he first saw you in and what looked like the top half of your nightgown. 

“Do you want to see the surprise or not? Remember I was really confident I’d win. It’d be a shame if you didn’t see.” Jacaerys pursed his lips thinking over what you said before giving a small nod and cautiously laying on your bed. Their sheets smelled freshly washed, a small pang of disappointment hit. Why? He couldn’t say or more so, he wouldn’t. 

“Okay see you guys have dragons. Now I can say those never existed where I came from, but it was thought they did. Turns out, they were just dinosaurs.” You explained with a smile on your face. You seemed quite excited to show him your surprise and he found himself smiling along with you awaiting for you to show him.

“Now at first, I am not gonna lie, I was playing to low-ball you with some music, but you went all out showing off your dragon. So I’m gonna show you what the closest thing we have to that is.” You grinned while nodding.

“Your surprise was music?” Jacaerys scoffed. Did you think they were brutes who didn’t even know what music was. He found himself feeling a little offended at your assumption. 

“No, not just any music. Music from where I come from. From what I know of, you all don’t do music like we do. Trust me, you’ve heard nothing like it.” You bragged and leaned on your pillows. “But alas we’re here for music, we’re here for dinosaurs. Jacaerys Valeryon, I’m introducing you to Jurassic World, where dinosaurs live amongst us.” You grinned and held a button on the black box and to his surprise it lit up. 

Now Jacaerys didn’t know what ‘dinosaurs’ were but if they were as interesting as the little box in your hand that lit up with a light, he was certainly looking forward to finding out. He found himself leaning in closer to look at the box which shone lightly. 

“Wait!” You dropped the box and went around blowing out every candle leaving the both of you in darkness except for the light that showed from the box. He saw you hop on the bed and crawl over to him and pick up the box. 

“This is a phone. Basically almost all the information in the world is on here. Everything I could ever want to know is here at the tips of my fingers.” You laid on the theatrics a bit heavy but, this needed to seem like the coolest thing he’s ever seen and ever will see because it is. 

“Right now? So you can ask anything and the phone…” It felt like saying it but Jacaerys continued. “Will you tell me?” It was such a small thing. How could anyone answer every question anyone has possibly been in there? 

“Well not right now, I don’t have a connection unfortunately, but in theory, yes. Anything, except for the future of course, but you could ask about anything ranging to how many stars there are in the sky.” You turned to look at the window before turning back to him as Jacaerys looked past you. You reached your hand out brushing a curl back. “To why your hair curls.” 

‘Smooth.’ You giggled to yourself. 

Jacaerys looked towards you longer than he should before turning his gaze down to the ‘phone.’ 

He saw you take it in your hands tapping on the front and it turned on once more showing numbers and smaller words that he wasn’t quick enough to read as you pulled your finger upwards. 

This time he was able to read it only as you hit numbers that were on the screen. It said ‘Enter Passcode’ The lettering was strange, it did not look like the lettering he was used to reading and writing. However, what surprised him more was the speed your fingers moved to type in your ‘passcode.’ He watched entrances as you moved your finger left and the images moved to the left. You pressed a symbol and then the screen and your screen went blue showing three letters: M, A, and X. Well now that he thinks about it, they read Max.

He watched as you pressed on something but his eyes weren’t fast enough to catch it and suddenly the phone went black, then just as fast it lit up again with a sign that said ‘HBO’ before it went black once more. “What-” He looked closer but quickly cleared his throat hearing you giggle at him. Then a blue thing with a dark background began to show. “What is that?” He asked while you stopped it from moving. 

“The world.” You spoke looking towards him with a little smug smile. 

“The world? That's what it looks like? Even the words that cover it?” He asked looking down towards the phone reading the words that said ‘Universal’ and he heard you click your tongue. 

“Obviously not with the words, but yes, this it was, it looks like beyond from all the way up there.” You pointed up. “Well at least where I come from this is how the word looks like. I think yours might be a little different.” You muttered out. “But in any case.” You pointed out where roughly your home was. “This is where I live and see all the blue, that's the ocean and the green on land, and the bright yellow stuff are lights. There are a lot of lights where I come from. It dims out the stars. That is why I said I’ve never seen the stars so bright before. With so much light comes light pollution.” You explained and he nodded looking at it before you again pressed the phone and it began to play. He heard sounds in the background but he couldn’t quite explain what they sounded like, he’s never heard it before. 

As he continued to watch more symbols popped up, but he found himself focusing on the background. What thing could produce such sounds he wondered. “What is that?” He asked and once more you touched the screen and the sounds and things on your phone stopped.

“It’s a logo. The…how can I phrase this, the symbols of the company that made this. Think of it like the things on your banners. It’s kinda like that.” 

“Not the thing that sounds in the background.” 

“Oh,” You smiled. “That’s music. Background music, to build feeling. I told you I have never heard anything like our music before.” Jacaerys found himself unable to say anything. He really hadn’t heard anything like this. You pressed down on the screen again and once more the music played but then it became ominous and he felt a sort of..nervousness as the phone went white. Then the music stopped and a crack was heard and it showed on the screen as well and more words showed on the screen he tried to read them but the formatting was too different for him to read properly.

More cracks appeared on the white thing as more of it was becoming visible. “What is that?” He asked watching something come out of it, a moment later it was shown to be claws. Three black gray claws.

“An egg.” You said simply continuing to watch the movie.

Jacaerys made an involuntary face as the claws twitched and suddenly another egg was shown. How was this happening? The phone let out sounds and for some strange reason it sounded like his own heart beats. Very strange. The phone refocused on the second egg as the claw twitched and clawed out the shell of the egg and an orange eye was shown. His face grimaced and he let out a sound of displeasure. 

“That's exactly what the eyes of Vermox look like, why are you making that sound?” You turned to him with a brow lifted. 

“No, Vermax’s eyes don’t look that ugly.” He defended his dragon. How could you insult him in such a way when you just saw him yesterday and if his memory served him right, you were very friendly with his dragon.

“Whatever you say,” You hummed and shrugged and Jacaerys gave you an offended look. When he looked back to the phone it went white again with something sounding in the background that didn’t sound like music. A large clawed foot stepped on the ground only for it to then be revealed as a bird. 

You pressed the screen again and it stopped on a person who was wearing a red coat and seemingly dark tight pants putting something into another thing. Behind stood a yellow home though he’s never seen any homes like that before. 

“That is somewhat average clothes. Women don’t really wear dresses anymore, it’s not required and that,” You pointed at the car trunk. “It's a car. She’s loading up suitcases and behind her is our version of houses.”

Jacaerys nodded looking closely at the ‘car’ before you pressed the screen again and once more the phone began.

“Boys, let's do this.” The woman in the red yelled and suddenly the phone showed something which he could not describe. 

“What is that?” he asked and once more you pressed the phone and the movie stopped. 

“I don’t know what it’s called but it shows you pictures.” You explained and you were going back to press the play button another question interrupted you.

“What are pictures?” He asked to look at you. You paused and thought for a moment. 

“Uhh, oh okay look.” You swiped off the movie and instead went to camera and turning the phone backwards you went to snap and take a photo. “Say cheese!” You smiled and posed while you heard a confused ‘cheese?’ and then the light flash went off. You turned it around and showed him the picture of both of you.

Jacaerys grimace. He looked confused and well not good, while you were there with a perfect smile and closed eyes. He heard you laugh. “This is a picture, think of it as a moment in time that is frozen forever.” 

“That’s what I look like?” Jacaerys complained. He suddenly felt insecurity creeping up on him.

“At the moment yes, but it looks cute, don’t worry.” You smiled and then promptly switched back to the movie. It was a cute picture, his first one too. You were definitely keeping it, besides, you looked way too good in the picture to delete it. 

“Gray?” The woman in the red shirt asked as she opened the door. Jacaerys looked in the background observing the chamber decor. Never had he seen a chamber like that.

“Honey, what are you doing?” The woman in red, which he assumed was the mother, questioned and went to take away the boy’s ‘picture thing’ as you called it. “What is this? Here, let's go. Come on honey. Your flight leaves in two hours.” She spoke once again preparing her son. 

“Dane county airport is 36 minutes away, 60 with traffic.” The boy spoke towards his mom. 

“How many minutes to get your little butt in the van? Hmm?” The mom smiled and so did the little boy. He kind of reminded him of Joffrey, certainly had the hair for it though only if it was darker.

As the movie progressed he heard music in the background once more. So much was going on that he only just realized the music. “Have yourself a merry little christmas.” It was sung in the background.

What was Christmas he wondered. Suddenly the scene changed and they were surrounded by a lot of people. The mother was wishing her sons goodbye. A loving mother she was, reminded him of his own. Though the older one was very dismissive towards his parents. It rubbed him the wrong way.

“Hey, listen to your mother.” The father spoke. Jacaerys found himself giving a small nod in agreement. 

“Take care of your brother. Answer your phone. I’m serious, it’s the green button. When you see my name, push it. Okay?” The mother lectured. It seemed phones were a common occurrence where you came from. Did everyone have information at their fingertips? “And remember, if something chases you,” The mother spoke with wide eyes. “Run.” She whispers the last part. 

As he continued to watch the mother bidding goodbye to her sons, the scene changed again and there was…well he didn’t know what it was. 

You hit pause and turn to him. “That’s a plane. We also travel by air, just not with dragons.” It was all you offered before pressing the phone again. The scene changed again and the boys were boarding…well he didn’t know either. “How big is the island?” The younger brother asked. “Big.” The older replied. “But how many pounds?” The younger one asked. Jacaerys knew what ‘pounds’ were. “Doesn’t make sense.” The older one replied. 

The scene changed once more and it looked like they were riding a ship with only no sails. He wondered how it moved. Once more the scene changed and he really got to the attire of the people. It certainly did seem somewhat familiar to what you wore when he first saw you. He watched the phone as it showed him new views of the likes he has never seen before. Like the blue tube and something moving. “What is that?” He asked. This time you didn’t bother stopping it. 

“That’s an escalator, think of moving stairs, and that is a train. Moves you from one place to another, like a carriage.” You responded. Stairs that move? How queer. 

The next scene shows the boys inside the train and the music in the background increased. It was quite the melody. Then it panned over to the small blonde boy running inside a building. There looked to be glass everywhere and on the top looked like ‘pictures’ and then there was a black haired woman. She had an accent more similar to his than the boys did.

Then he saw the younger brothers moving upwards calling his brother and the woman. 

“That's an escalator in use.” You spoke and Jacaerys watched as the boy moved without climbing the stairs. Yes, how queer indeed. The scene changed once more to the black haired woman from before entering a chamber. As the scene progressed so did the music and he found himself impatient waiting for the high of the song. When the younger brother opened the window, it showed a view Jacaerys had never seen before. The high of the song sounded loudly and Jacaerys found himself entranced. Is this how you felt when you saw his dragon for the first time?

As the song came to an end he was then shown a woman with a short…dress? He didn’t know, but the woman that was shown had short red hair, was pale with freckles dotting her face and gray eyes. A very good looking and well put together woman. 

“Welcome to Jurassic World.” The woman spoke, seeming as if she was speaking to him. He moved back away from the screen. Could she see him?

The scene changed again and white walls were shown with people in white and what looked like blue gloves and clear things on their faces. 

“Who are they?” Jacaerys asked as the scene progressed and he saw more eggs as a white thing opened exposing them. “They’re scientists. I think more specifically biologists or genealogists.” Those were big words you spoke and he had no idea what they meant. He continued to watch as the scene unfolded. “While year-over-year revenue continues to climb, operating costs are higher than ever. Our shareholders have been patient but let’s be honest. No one’s impressed by a dinosaur anymore.” The woman in all white said. Again Jacaerys had no idea what she was talking about. 

“20 years ago de-extinction was right up there with magic. These days kids look at a Stegosaurus like an elephant in a city zoo. That doesn't mean asset development is falling behind: DNA excavators discover new species every year but consumers want them bigger, louder, more teeth. The good news is our advances in gene splicing have opened up a whole new frontier. We've learned more from genetics in the past decade than we have from a whole century of digging up bones. So when you say you want to sponsor an attraction what do you have in mind?” The more the woman in all white spoke, the more he was lost. Luckily you picked up on it and stopped the movie. 

“Okay lemme break it down.” You said facing him. “Dinosaurs have been extinct for about 65 million years.”

Jacaerys' jaw hung open. Million! Not just one but sixty-five!? Sixty-five million years they have been, well he doesn’t know what extinct means. But he does know that 65 million years is a long time. “What does extinction mean?” He asked and saw you look up thinking. 

“Dead. No longer alive. It doesn’t exist anymore. No where on earth is it alive. That is what extinction means.” You said and Jacaerys thought once more. For 65 million years dinosaurs haven’t existed.

“Then…” He trailed off trying to understand. 

“My Earth is about 4.5 billion years old. Overall there have been five great mass extinctions one of those being the extinction of dinosaurs who were here long before humans.” Jacaerys ignored the fact that you said ‘your earth’ and instead focused on how old it was. 

4.5 Billion years! Madness! He’s never even heard of a billion of anything. 

“I would assume yours is too. All planets in the solar system have been created at the same time, which was the beginning of time. Though it may be different, I’m not sure.” You spoke as it was the most normal thing in the world, as if you just didn’t just just change his entire perception of the world. 

“How, do you know that? How can you know how old the world is or Earth, as you call it. Why do you call Earth and not the world?” He looked at you.

“Well that's the name of the world. Earth. It comes from an old word, I think it might be Latin, and it's like ground or something. Might be old English too, I can’t remember. Anyways, the way it was discovered how old the Earth was was through a specific kind of dating I can't remember off the top of my head but it was something like carbon dating. Essentially in the beginning of time everything was created at the exact same time by a big bang. So that means all the planets were created at the exact same time and that also includes everything else such as the sun and the Stars. Now you could also date the actual Earth itself by taking a random Rock but you also have to take into consideration weathering that has happened to the rock that may mess up the dating.  So in order to combat that basically we took a small asteroid or a piece of a star and dated that and because everything was made at the exact same time that meant that that piece of space whether it be an asteroid or a star is exactly the same age as the Earth.” As Jacaerys listened to you speak he felt his world changing around him. What in god's name was ‘carbon-dating?’ Also they took a star? What was an asteroid? The beginning of time!? What a big bang? 

“What…are you talking about?” Jacaerys muttered. 

“It’s a whole thing. I take days to explain everything to you. But just know that this dating method is considered highly accurate. Along with that as of right now we are in the midst of the 6th great mass extinction caused at the hands of humans. Essentially we are our own destruction.”  You nodded with a smile on your face as if you weren’t talking about the end of everything. 

“What!?” Jacaerys blinked and saw you laugh. Were you mad!? You had to be mad to laugh about something like this.

“Sorry, my world. Not yours, not yet at least.” It was predetermined!? He felt like he was being overwhelmed with information. “Well not if I can do anything about it. Trust, it’ll be fine.” You patted his shoulder. “Anyways, here they found a way to bring back the dinosaurs from the grave.” You smiled then pressed play on the movie. 

He stayed still as the movie went on trying to wrap his head around the whole notion of extinction and mass death and the age of the earth. Even as a strange creature appeared on the screen and people walked through it.

He saw you stop the movie again looking at him. “You okay?” He nodded. You could stop the next mass extinction right? You said you could. He wonders how exactly one could cause mass destruction in the world. Perhaps with those weapons you mentioned before, certain countries could destroy cities. 

Finally he turned his attention back to the phone as you resumed the movie. He saw children brushing dirt from large bones and then pictures showing a large explosion. “See that's how dinosaurs died. An asteroid crashed into earth.” You murmured and Jace honestly didn’t want to think about extinctions right now. 

Once more the large creature from before was there. “What is that?” 

“That is a dinosaur belonging to the sauropod family.” You answered.

“Sauropod family?” Jacaerys tilted his head. 

“Yes, they are defined by their features, notably long necks, long tails, small heads, and four thick, pillar-like legs. This one is just a hologram or like a picture that is being…projected?” Did he know what the project meant? You had no other way of explaining it. Luckily he just nodded along. 

“Aunt Claire!” The younger brother called out and went to go hug the woman in white. 

“Oh, my gosh, you’re so- you’re so sweet.” Jacaerys watched the family dynamic trying to remember names. Clearly this ‘Claire’ woman was very busy. She seemed to be the manager of everything. Though the more he watched he noticed another creature that was chewing. 

“What is that one?” Jacaerys pointed towards the phone.

“That's a Parasaurolophus, which means duck-billed.” Jacaerys watched the ‘Parasaurolophus.’ He had never seen such a thing. It looks duck-billed. He continued to watch as Claire walked through it. 

The next scene showed a bright blue map shown on what looked to be a bigger version of a phone. 

He watched the scene unfold as new people were on the screen, a man with things on his face and a woman with a blue coat.

“Looks like it. Verizon Wireless presents the Indominus Rex.” Claire spoke.

“Ugh, that is so terrible.” The man with things on his face spoke. “Why not just go the distance Claire, and these corporations name the dinosaurs? They’ve got all the ballparks, why stop there?” 

“Why are the Westplanes closed?” Claire pointed to the map where there was red. 

“Another pachy roaming outside its zone.” The woman in the blue coat explained. 

Again Jacaerys couldn’t say what they were talking about, but he kept his mouth shut simply watching. Claire reminded him of what a King should be. Very commanding. It wasn’t common here in Westeros. You had said something about more women in power, was this what you meant?

Then the scene showed something flying in the air making chopping sounds. “What is that?”

“That’s a helicopter. Another way we travel through air.” You answered and Jacaerys watched it lifted into the air. 

“You look tense Claire.” The man steering the ‘helicopter’ spoke.

“Maybe you should just focus on the controls.” Claire spoke while clutching onto anything she could. 

“The key to a happy life is to accept that you are never actually in control.” The man said and Jacaerys raised a brow. What was that supposed to mean?

“Don’t forget why we built this place, Claire. Jurassic World exists to remind us how very small we are, how new. You can’t put a price on that. Now please we’re flying.” As he spoke Jacaerys saw you nodding along with his statement and Jacaerys did not want an explanation. 

“It’s bigger than expected.” Claire spoke and then a scene where there was a man who seemed to be wielding fire was shown. He opened his mouth to ask but shut, deciding he didn’t need an explanation on why there was fire coming from the man’s hand. 

“We hit a few speed bumps early on. It began to anticipate where the food would come from. One of the handlers nearly lost an arm and the other threatened to quit if I couldn’t guarantee their safety.” Claire spoke as she entered the room. 

He watched the scene trying to take in everything all at once. As he watched there was a growling heard and he saw something within the trees. It was white and had ridges. The skin looked like it could belong to a dragon. He watched until there was a yellow eye and it blinked, or at least that's what it looked like. Didn’t blink like anything he’s ever seen before.

“Can she see us?” The man asked. 

“They say it can sense thermal radiation like a snake.” Claire responded. 

“I thought there were two of them?” The man asked, facing Claire. 

“There was a sibling in case this one didn’t survive infancy.” Claire spoke as she looked towards the Indomius Rex.

“Where’s the sibling?” The man asked.

“She ate it.” Claire responded walking away from him.

“What is thermal radiation?” Jacaerys asked you. “It’s what snakes used to see. We give out heat signatures.” Jacaerys looked at you with confusion. “They see the warmth our body gives.” You explained and he nodded. 

“Oh. How?” You looked at him trying to think of why. “Uhhh, I actually don’t know. I think it’s because of their tongues. They use it to smell.” Jacaerys looked at waiting for more of an explanation. “Listen, I don't know how they do that either.” 

The squealing of a pig brought back Javier's attention to the movie. The pig was running away from something. Jacaerys watched closely trying to see what it was running from. 

“Hold!” A male voice rang out and claws were on the phone. The four more appeared behind as it panned up to show what looked like dragons except without wings, or horns. He assumed that dinosaurs were.

“Hey!” The scene panned to show a man, or more so the outline of a man. Then the man was shown. He had ruggish appearance and held something in his hand that clicked. “Eyes on me.” The man commanded and again the dinosaurs were shown.

Jacaerys watched the scene with intense focus as he watched the man command the dinosaurs. He could understand why you said they were like your version of dragons. Though to have one man bonded to four? It was unheard of here. Only one dragon per rider. 

“How is it bonded with all four?” He asked to watch the movie. You turned to him with furrowed brows. 

“What does bonded mean?” You asked. Jacaerys sat up, did you not see dragons bonded with their riders?

“Dragons only have one rider until their death, and only one person commands them. I am bonded with Vermax, and he won’t have a new rider until I die.” He explained, and you nodded understanding. 

“Curious. I didn’t know that. Owen isn’t bonded to the velociraptors like how you and Vermax are. These are wild animals. He is their trainer. It’s like a dog and owner kind of relationship or as Owen describes it, like a pack. One wolf is the head and the rest follow. Bonds like the ones you have with Vermax don’t really exist where I come from. I think the closest would be dogs or other intelligent animals bred for domestic purposes. In this case, they can and will kill him if given the chance.” You explained. 

“Pig loose! Pig loose!” A man shouted on the phone and Jacaerys turned to watch the phone once more. He watched as the pig was taken by the dinosaur and the man dropped in the cage. His heart jolted and it felt unable to relax as he watched the scene. He watched men point rectangular-shaped blocks at the raptors. Then he watched intently as Owen tried to keep the dinosaurs at bay. 

“Blue, stand down. Stand down.” In a strange sense, it reminded him of when he was learning to tame Vermax. Though Vermax didn’t try to kill him, not as Blue was snapping towards Owen. 

“Delta, I see you. Back up! Okay good, good. Charlie, stay right there. Good. Close the gate.” Jacaerys' heart jolted once more. He felt as if he couldn’t relax. Was Owen going to die? He watched as Owen dived under the gate just barely escaping the Dinosaurs. He gave out a sigh of relief. This was stressful, too stressful, though you didn’t seem affected at all, only watching with a smile on your face. Maybe, this was like your version of jousting tournaments. 

He continued to watch as the scene changed to children on other dinosaurs which he had never seen. It was quite a curious thing seeing how different children looked and the stark difference in how life was where you were from. It seemed like everyone was always happy. In contrast to here, it seemed rather gray. How hard and strange everything must be for you. Giving up a life where basic luxuries were this kind of thing, and yet now here you are trying to recreate this. If he were in your situation, where his entire family was gone, his friends, his titles, everything he has known and it was taken from him and put into a place where he had no power. Jacaerys Valeyron truly doesn’t think he could do it. Yet you are thriving here, and he hasn’t seen you fret about your losses. You seemed to look on the ‘bright side’ as you called it. 

Jacaerys watched as the brothers ran away from their caretaker for a ‘T-rex’ feeding. Though the movie didn’t show much of this ‘T-rex.’

“Well, a promise tomorrow is worth a lot less than trying today.” The mother of the two brothers spoke and he tilted his head. How were they talking? 

“How are they talking?” He asked you and you turned away from the movie and smiled. “Well, phones are used to make long-distance calls. Think like if you have paper and you write a letter you get another for like another week or more, phones allow you to talk in real-time. So let's say you’re in like I don’t know Essos and I’m here. If phones worked here we could talk as if we were face to face.” Jacaerys felt his mouth go slack. This was revolutionary. Yes, if this is your basic luxury, Jacaerys does not think he could handle what is happening to you. 

“How does that work?” No, how does it really work? This seemed like an impossible feat, how did they connect? 

“Um, well I’m no expert but um I think it has to do with electromagnetic waves,” Jacaerys swears you make up half these words. Every time he asked you to explain something, he was always left with more questions than answers. “Oh look look, this is the best part of the movie. The Mosasaurs!” 

Jace turned his attention back to the phone. “The Mosasaurs were thought to have hunted near the surface of the water where it preyed on anything it could sink its teeth into. Including turtles, large fish, and even smaller mosasaurs. Okay, folks let's see if she’s still hungry after already eating today” There was a large shark attached to what looked like to Jacaerys; a metal rope.

Jacaerys watched intently as a large creature swam out and ate the shark whole. What was that!? It was huge! Is this what you had roaming in your water where you came from!? He was so shocked that he didn’t pause to think how the seats moved down to see underwater. All he could focus on was the size of it. It had to be at least the length of Crazes. There was no way you had that just roaming in your waters. 

Shaking his head he leaned on his palm watching as Claire introduced Owen to the Indominuos Rex. He watched as they realized the Indominuos Rex wasn’t in its enclosure anymore. He furrowed his brows in confusion. Wasn’t it just there? However, it all clicked when the phone showed claw marks on the wall. Once more that tense feeling came back and it was not helped by the music in the background. Was that intentional? The music was eerie and only served to put him more on edge as he saw the guard, who looked rather unqualified to be one, and Owen entered the enclosure. 

“Get them out of there now. Now!” Claire shouted. The music picked up pace and Jacaerys found himself subconsciously leaning in while clenching his fists. His eyes narrowed as he saw white scaly skin and long sharp black claws. He watched in horror as the black claws snatched the third man. He heard him scream and then there was a crunch. He had never seen or heard anyone die before, so to see his first death in a movie was disturbing. Even more so because you seemed to not react to the death. Was this entertainment for you? Men dying, people dying? 

Jacaerys gave a silent gasp as he saw the man get ripped apart by the Indominuos Rex. Jacaerys gritted his teeth in anticipation to see if Owen would get out alive. He saw as the Indominuos Rex walked over to the fat guard and his mouth was suddenly agape as he watched the man get bitten and nearly eaten whole. He found himself wanting to look away as the Indominuos Rex closed in on Owen. Much to Jacaerys pleasure, it didn’t eat Owen, though he was disturbed by the roar it gave out. It certainly did sound like it could be a dragon. 

“What are those things?” Jacaerys asked, watching what he assumed were the knights of your world. 

“Those…those are tasers. They shock you. Think of it as wielding lighting at will except a lot less strong.” You giggled at the end. Jacaerys blinked once more in awe of your world. Lighting!? Like Thunder!? Your people had learned to wield lighting and thunder as weapons!? This place must seem…primitive to you. This was insanity!

“If mom and dad get divorced, will one of us be with mom and the other with dad?” Gray asked his brother. 

Suddenly Jacaerys was taken back to his first real conversation with you. You had mentioned something about divorce being common, however, he didn’t really believe in whispering of such a thing as blasphemous, but here these two brothers were speaking about it. 

“Oh he’s a sophomore, I didn’t know that.” You mumbled out. Jacaerys didn’t know what was but he thought it in his best interest to ask any more questions. Though that was his second time thinking that, that never stopped him.

Jacaerys grimaced as they picked up the meat with the ‘tracking implant’ whatever that meant though he assumed it was to help track things. He didn’t even want to start to guess how that worked. 

He watched as a drop of blood fell on the man’s arm. 

“It can camouflage!” The man yelled and once more a horror-stricken expression took over his face as he watched the carnage. There was no possible way you weren’t affected by this? One man had been stepped on, another ripped in half, and then an additional one had a tree fall on him. Yet there you were without a single expression of remorse or any emotion watching the movie. It was off putting. He doesn’t even think Daemon would be able to watch this without some kind of reaction.

He turned back to watch the brothers getting into a glass ball and once more Jacaerys thought about asking you but felt too put off by your expressions to say anything. As he watched the movie he felt himself in awe of seeing the Dinosaurs. They looked like nothing he had ever seen, yet your world had them. It was amazing, though he supposes you also thought dragons were amazing. He looked over towards you and for the first time saw an emotion. He saw a smile. A smile on your face seems to admire the dinosaurs. 

Though a reaction, it didn’t put him at ease. 

“Dude. Off-road.” Zach spoke to Gray. “But they told us to go back.” Gray insisted. “Y’know, I’m just worried that you’re not getting the full Jurassic World experience.” As Zach spoke Jacaerys heard you giggling mumbling out “That's so me.” He raised a brow at you.

Once more Jacaerys’s heart jolted as the Indominus Rex found Zach and Gray. This movie can’t be good for his health. He watched as the Indominus Rex broke the neck of the dinosaur with a club tail. He grimaced and so did you. So you were impervious to human death, but not animal death? How backward. 

Though as the scene continued he swore he was going to have white hair by the end of this movie. He gripped his hair as the phone buzzed and the Indominus Rex bit down the glass and it punctuated! “Oh fuck.” He mumbled out. 

He continued to pull his hair as he watched Zach and Gray run away from the Indominus Rex. Luckily they got away.  He gave out a sigh of relief. How were these movies good for anyone?

As he continued to watch a scene with a dinosaur dying tugged at his heartstrings. He looked over to you and to his relief you were not unaffected. As the movie progressed Jacaerys found himself engrossed in it. Taking in everything it had to offer. 

Though as it continued that damned Indominus Rex came back to haunt him and all over again he was gritting his teeth. He jolted as the Indominus Rex broke through the roof. He watched intently as the scene unfolded. 

“Yes. Get ACU out here. Real guns this time.” Claire spoke out. 

“What are guns?” He asked and you simply responded with a “You’ll see.” And that he did. He saw as it shot unimaginably fast. The weapons your world had were unimaginable, never once has this idea ever crossed Jacaerys’s mind.  

“That’s a machine gun. It fires about six-hundred to about fifteen hundred bullets per minute.” Once more Jacaerys was left puzzled by your causal explanations. They shot so hard that it blew out chucks of the ground. Unbelievable.

“What is a bullet?” He asked. Releasing six-hundred to one thousand five-hundred of something in a minute was deranged! 

“They’re metal shaped into sharp points. A gun works almost like a crossbow. Except it used gunpowder to make a small explosion within the gun to propel the bullet at a high speed to then pierce through anything essentially. It would even go through your steel armor if hit at the exact point or one good shot and you’re dead. Even more so with a machine gun.” You turn to him with a smile. “Nothing is bullet proof. Shoot it enough times, it’ll break. If you’re shot, well you’re swiss cheese, I don’t know.” You laughed out the last part. 

Jacaerys didn’t know what ‘swiss cheese’ was but he was just going to assume that it wasn’t a good thing. 

He watched the Indominus Rex crash into a…glass dome? Inside were things that were almost Dragons, but not exactly. He watched enthralled as one man fell out of the helicopter and gave a small gasp when one of those flying dinosaurs snatched him. 

“Oop! I forgot that happened.” You spoke as your brows shot up in shock. A man had just been impaled by one of those flying dinosaurs, though Jacaerys focused on the fact that you had apparently watched this movie several times? Did you enjoy seeing people killed!?

“Oh pay attention, a good scene is coming up.” You nodded excited as you looked back towards the phone. Somehow when you said that now, Jacaerys wasn’t excited like he was in the beginning of the movie. He watched you smile as the flying dinosaurs flew down and attacked the commons! This was absolutely mad! Madness that you watched this for entertainment. He couldn't emphasize this enough. He watched in horror as the caretaker of the brothers was snatched and then eaten by the Mosasaurs. Absolute madness. 

As he continued to watch the trepidation of it all in the midst of it Owen kissed Claire! He let out a sound of surprise and looked away while you gave a giggle. “Relax, it’s just a kiss. Be glad you’re not watching this with your parents, trust me, it’s a lot more awkward.” You smiled at him. You watched this kind of mania with your family!? This was too much for Jacaerys yet he couldn’t look away from the phone. 

As he watched, he saw a man shoot a dinosaur and it immediately went down. A horrid thought entered his mind. Could that kill dragons? Probably. He shook the thought away. 

Watching the movie he saw Owen punch that other guy and he gave a smile. “That’s how I punched Aemond.” He murmured happily with himself. 

“No.” You shook your head at him and didn’t elaborate. He deflated a little bit at that and continued to watch the movie. 

“Oh yuh!” You pumped your fist as the velociraptors were set loose. 

A mad woman. You were a mad woman. Jacaerys Valeyron had lusted for a mad woman. He shook his head in disappointment. 

Though he did admit that it did look very compelling to watch the raptors hunt. The fluidity of their movement was amazing to watch and their flawless teamwork was also something to behold. 

Though once the raptor started communicating with the Indominus Rex, it was a little less cool. He watched as the guns went off and then something shot out and created a large explosion. His mouth went agape for the umpteeth time since this move started. Just how many weapons have been devised!? This was bad. No wonder you had so many wars yet none at all. Your weapons were of mass destruction. One wrong move and everyone is gone! “What is that!?” 

“An RPG, I don’t know what it stands for but I know it’s a kind of missile.” You laughed a bit as you spoke. Truly a despicable place you must’ve come from if you are this desensitized.

He continued to watch as the raptors killed the men in such savage ways. He doesn’t know how he is going to sleep tonight. As he watched the scenes unfold once more his hands were in his hair gripping his locks as he watched, unable to guess whether or not Zach and Gray were going to live with two raptors after them. 

Luckily once again they did. He breathed out a breath of relief.

“Is this what you had in mind?” The man with things on his face asked though everyone seemed to be leaving. “Hey.” He spoke to the woman with the blue coat. “They said we have to evacuate. There’s a boat. Are you coming?” She asked him. The man seemed to contemplate the idea before ultimately making the decision of staying, but not before he tried to kiss the woman in the blue coat and unwilling Jacaerys gave out a groan of second hand embarrassment. He covered his eyes and shook his head. Somehow this was worse than the kissing.  

Though the man that wanted to use the dinosaurs as weapons getting mauled by the raptor quickly took his mind off the whole ordeal. He gritted his teeth so hard as the scenes continued. Now they were all surrounded by three raptors. Jacaerys wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He angled his face away from the screen as Owen tried to reclaim Blue. When Owen’s hand wasn’t bitten off he sighed a breath of relief. Only to hold it once more when that damned Indominus Rex appeared once more. 

He gasped as Blue was thrown to the side by the Indominus Rex. Jacaerys watched intently as both remaining raptors attacked the Indominus Rex. He pumped his fist in victory only to gasp in surprise when a raptor was thrown and it exploded and the other was bit and thrown. 

The Indominus’s claw nearly grabbed gray had it not been for his older brother. He had to have white hair by now, he was sure of it. 

Jacaerys watched as Claire stood in front of another large dinosaur. Damn, another one to deal with. Though to his pleasant surprise the two large dinosaurs began fighting. However, not soon after clearly the Indominus Rex was winning. He sighed in disappointment. Though it was short-lived as Jacaerys murmured a “Yes!” at Blue’s return. 

You turned to look at him with a smile and cleared his throat looking back towards the movie. 

Jacaerys watched the fight with more interest than he’s ever looked at anything, and then once for the final time Jacaerys’s mouth hung open as the Mosasaurs came and dragged the Indominus Rex down. 

It was a pleasant ending as the movie came to an end, though he still thought you mad for finding enjoyment in the deaths of others. 

“So what’d you think of my surprise?” You smiled. 

“I think you and your people are mad for finding entertainment in the death of others.” He spoke plainly. It was true, while a happy ending was nice, what about all the lives sacrificed for it? To make a spectacle out of it was cruel.

You furrowed your brows tilting your head before your mouth formed an ‘o.’ “Oh lord! I didn’t tell you! Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! No, everything is fake! No one really died making this movie. The dinosaurs aren’t real either and neither are Claire, Owen, Zach, Gray, any of them. They’re not real people!” You smiled trying to apologize. “Oh gosh, I can’t say sorry enough. No, they’re actors, it’s their job to pretend. There are no more dinosaurs, they’re extinct, all of it is a…play. Think of it as that.” You nodded.

“I saw the Dinosaurs, they looked as real as you and I?” Jacaerys was appalled that you lied to him when he said it. 

“No, that is digital effects. CGI, that’s all it is. I promise, everyone is alive. No one got hurt.” You were pleased before you covered your eyes and shook your head. “This must’ve been such a horrible experience. Oh gosh, I really am sorry. I didn’t- I totally forgot to tell you. It didn’t even cross my mind!” You grabbed his hand and held it in yours. “I really am sorry, I would never think to draw entertainment from y’know actual dead people. I’ve even seen a dead person. I swear it is all fake. Cross my heart.” You let go of his hand and crossed your heart. 

“So dinosaurs aren’t around anymor?” He asked skeptically trying to wrap his mind around it. 

“Yeah! Oh my gosh, no they really haven’t been around for over sixty-five million years, not including birds of course, but anyways! Yeah everything is fake.” You tried to reassure him. 

“The weapons as well?” He furrowed his brows looking at you.

“Oh no those are real.” You gave out a little laugh at the end. “Yeah no those actually exist…it’s just the dinosaurs and the people that are named.” 

He nodded slowly. “Is that all the entertainment your people watch?” 

“No. There is a lot! Unfortunately I have only two more movies downloaded.” You sighed turning off the phone leaving you both in darkness as your eyes adjusted. “But um, I’d like to preserve my battery. I’m now at 70…it’s all I have left from my home. All my pictures, the only reminder of my family. I’d rather preserve it for a long time.” A sharp pain hit your jaw and traveled to your tear ducts as you felt tears gathering. Luckily it was dark. 

It was silent before Jacaerys spoke again. “Mayhaps, we can have a painter paint your pictures so that you may have them forever.” 

You snapped your head up. “Really? You would do that?” Your lips formed a wobbly smile. “It would mean the world to me to have them painted out.” You reached out in the dark for his hands holding them close to you. “Thank you Jacaerys Valeyron, really. Thank you.” 

As you smiled the only thing on his mind was how much he enjoyed the sound of his full name on your lips. 

Note: This chapter was a pain to write. I don't even like the way it sounds. So sorry.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added to Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[gyuvision]

strawberry soju -> [back to masterlist?]

pairing : exes to ?? hong seunghan x fem reader

contains -> : drinking, mention of alcohol/being drunk

wc : 0.9k

preview ! - your drunken ex boyfriend calls you up out of nowhere, leaving him under your care for the night when he doesnt want you to go.

continue? ⬇️

you groaned at the sound of your phone buzzing once again. after all, it really does get annoying when its been 3 minutes and 7 missed calls.

���who could be calling so late? 10pm on a friday..”

setting down the ramen cup and pausing your favorite show, you swipe to accept the call, holding the phone up to your ear without checking the caller id. “hello? whos this?”

“y/nniee? that you?” the person slurred.

you knew that voice all too well, you didn’t even have to look at the contact name. “seunghan.” you sighed.

“you finally answered.” he exclaimed. you could practically hear his stupid smile.

“been drinking again?” you said, already knowing by his tone of voice.

“just.. a little tipsy..”

“are you-” you were cut off by someone elses voice.

“sorry y/n. he had a lot to drink.” eunseok joined in. “you mind getting seunghan? i know its.. awkward still. but my parents are supposed to go out soon, and i don’t want to leave my brother by himself.”

“hes sooo drunk that he seems to think you’re still together. he’s been asking for you all night!” sungchan snickered somewhere in the background.

“uh.. send me your location then? i guess its fine just this once. he wont even remember it in the morning.”

so you found yourself driving to a well known local restaurant to pick up your ex boyfriend. even though it was your choice, you couldnt help but wonder why you were doing this.

and you also couldn’t help but feel bad at the thought of seunghan being so drunk to the point he still thinks you’re dating.

“y/n, over here!” sungchan called out to you as you entered the building.

“wheres eunseok?”

“you just missed him. he had to go because he’s too worried about his brother.”

“my y/n! you’re here!” seunghan squealed going to pull you into a tight hug.

you awkwardly pat his head in return instead of hugging back. though you couldn’t say that you didn’t miss his touch.

sungchan helped you both to the car before he took off as well.

“god you smell like.. like, strawberry soju?” you exclaimed. “you really reek of alcohol. how much did you drink?”

seunghan replied by holding up 9 fingers, a lazy smile across his face and his eyes closed, with his cheeks a bright pink. “9 shots?” you scoffed as you set course for seunghans house.

“babyy.” seunghan whined. “im not your baby.” “you’ll always be my baby.” he teased back.

you sighed as you rubbed your forehead in frustration. “what do you want?”

“aircon please. i feel hot.” he mumbled as he tugged at the collar of his shirt.

you sank into your seat after turning on the air conditioning, putting up with how cold you were so he could feel better. after all, he was a bit of a liability right now though.

you walked up to seunghans apartment with him leaning into your shoulder while he had one arm around you for support.

“whats your code?” you asked, opening his keypad as you assumed he changed the password after your break up.

“same as always. your birthday. i would never change it.”

you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t soften even in the slightest.

after changing seunghans shirt for him then getting him tucked into the sheets, you went to get up to get ready and go home before he pulled you back into the bed with him.

“please dont go.” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your neck with a small whine.

“but didn’t you think that we..” “nah. just wanted to believe that we were. feel more confident when i’m that drunk.”

“im sorry.”

“why did you leave me?”

though seunghan had said some crazy things that night, nothing would’ve prepared you for that.

“seunghan..”

“i dont care about it anymore then. just dont leave me again. even if its only for today.”

you turned around in his grasp to press a light kiss into his forehead. “promise.”

you decided, maybe it wouldnt be so bad to spend the night. you realize you wouldnt mind being happy with seunghan again even if it meant that he wouldnt remember any of it.

‘but might as well, cause i cant help myself.’ [1:36]

..

‘i dont ever wanna know how it feels to not have you, my strawberry soju.’ [1:51]

[mothandpidgeon]

Making Out to Pablo Honey (virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: Dieter’s always tried to be cool. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. You, on the other hand, you’re cool.

contents: virgin!Dieter, young!Dieter, lots of 90s references, cannabis, mentions of masturbation, fingering, premature ejaculating, one ferris bueller reference, reader is able bodied and not described physically moth never uses y/n.

This fic is about horny teens doing horny teen things. It's not too late to not read this if that's not ok with you.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I'm thinking of this as a Dieter origin story. I really enjoyed thinking about him before he was the DIETER BRAVO. Anyway, this was kind of healing I wish I knew him back when I was in high school. Thanks @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for betaing and cheering me on!

“Sweet or salty?” you ask. Your head is buried in one of the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through a selection of snacks. 

Dieter sits on the counter opposite, watching you with a lazy smile. 

“Sweet,” he says. “No, wait. Salty.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your eyes bloodshot under heavy lids. 

“You’re so stoned,” you giggle. 

Dieter blushes. Despite the fact that he coughs after every hit, getting high with you after school has become his favorite past time. You never tease him for it, just put the joint between your lips while Dieter wonders if you can feel the warmth from his there. You’re both well and truly blazed at this point after smoking up in the dugout of the school's baseball field.

Dieter gazes over your body as you stand on tip toe, reaching for the top shelf. It’s like he can’t control his eyes from wandering to you when he’s like this. Sometimes you notice. 

“What?” you’ll say. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re paranoid,” he’ll lie. 

He wishes he was brave enough to tell you that he’s staring because he thinks you’re beautiful. 

It’s hard to believe that the two of you are actually friends now. He still remembers when you were assigned as his lab partner, a girl that he was equally drawn to and intimidated by.  

Now he’s in your house after school almost every day. 

“Honey?” your mother’s voice calls from the front door.

“Shit.” Dieter hops onto the floor before she enters the kitchen in a smart business outfit. 

“Oh, hi, Dieter,” she says, smoothing the bottom of her hair. 

“Hello, ma’am,” Dieter says. 

You stifle a laugh. 

“Dieter, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” your mother says.  

“Um okay,” he replies. He can’t remember her first name. She’s told him before. Does he seem stoned? Oh, god, he definitely does. 

She scrunches her nose.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Dieter’s stomach plummets. The two of you must reek of pot. He’s grown to like the scent– an earthy tang that now reminds him of you. He braces himself, trying to clear his foggy mind for a moment so he can’t act sober. 

“Somebody must’ve run over a skunk,” you say. “What’re you doing home so early?”

You change the subject so seamlessly. Of course. Nothing ever seems to scare you.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Vermont people but I left the damn file here,” she says, picking a folder up from the kitchen table. “I’ll be back late if we close the deal.”

“Good luck,” you say.

Dieter bursts with laughter as your mother goes out the front door. You join him, nearly doubling over with your giggles. 

“I was freaking out!” he tells you. “A skunk! I can’t believe she bought that.”

“I know, right? She’s clueless,” you chuckle. “Look.” 

You hold up your creation— a plate bursting with flavor and texture. It’s organized into little piles of treats— potato chips, Oreos, a handful of glistening strawberries. Chocolate covered pretzels rest beside dried cranberries and several ropes of licorice separate honey roasted peanuts from fun sized Kit Kats in glossy red wrappers. It’s a feast, every bite he could ever want just when he wants it the most. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he takes in this offering. 

Maybe it’s the pot buzzing around in his head but he can feel himself falling head over heels for you. He wants to kiss you but what if you don’t want to be kissed? What if you reject him? He could play it off as a joke like the one he told in the biology lab that got you to notice him for the first time. Humiliation he can handle but he’s not sure he could take that heartbreak. 

The cookies are calling his name so he abandons any dreams of filling his mouth with your tongue in favor of a Nutter Butter. 

There’s a big, L shaped couch in the basement that Dieter sprawls out on while he munches on the fruit. They might be the best strawberries he’s ever eaten. Everything tastes so good when he’s high. He wonders what you taste like. 

“Do you like Radiohead?” you ask sorting through a pile of cassettes. 

“Yeah. I love them,” he says. He’s only heard one of their songs on the radio but if you like them, he wants to like them, too. 

Dieter’s always tried to be cool. He has a lot working against him— built like a string bean, a goofy personality. His own fucking name has betrayed him. He got the same haircut as Leonardo DiCaprio, he saved up to buy a pair of fancy sneakers, he spends hours in the mirror carefully choosing his outfits. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. 

You, on the other hand, you’re cool. Effortlessly so in your black boots and chipped nail polish. It’s not just the music you listen to or the clothes you wear. There’s something in your attitude, an aloof confidence that he’s never been able to replicate. 

Despite his anxieties, you never make him feel judged. It seems like you enjoy introducing him to new things. You offered to make him a mixtape and it sent his heart fluttering. He’s shared a thing or two with you, too— leading you through the aisles of the local video store handing you his favorite obscure movies. Sometimes you laugh at his enthusiasm but it’s never mean spirited. 

You pop the tape in and climb up onto the sofa as rough guitar strums seep through the speakers. There’s something psychedelic in the music that has Dieter sinking deeper into his seat. 

Although there’s plenty of space, you sit alongside him, propping your feet up on the chaise beside his. Dieter’s pulse picks up. He’s so aware of you so close to him, each move of your muscles as you get comfortable. He can smell the pot tangled up in your hair and the fresh scent of cotton that always lingers on your clothes. 

“I like being high,” Dieter sighs. 

You laugh. He fucking loves the sound of it, wants to be a little clown to keep you giggling away.

“Give me a Kit Kat,” you say. 

The snack plate is balanced on Dieter’s lap so when you fish through it for the candy, he can feel the pressure of your touch right on his dick. He stifles a groan, trying to focus his attention on the crinkle of the wrapper in your hands. 

He’s touched himself to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit. There was an incident when you unexpectedly brushed your ass against him at your locker and he popped a boner. He had to take care of it in the bathroom, one hand cupping the tip of his cock as he came so he didn’t make a mess. 

“Dieter,” you say. His name sounds so sweet when you say it softly like that. 

“Yeah,” he replies. 

Some time in the last fifteen minutes, his mind wandered away and he got lost in the haze of his high. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before you got his attention or how long he’s been out of it. There’s just a warm feeling in his head and every once in a while he remembers that you’re sitting right next to him and he smiles to himself and then he floats away again. 

“You’re staring at me,” you say. 

You’re close, laying on the same couch cushion, your face just inches from his own. You have pretty eyes. Maybe that’s what he’s been looking at. Or your hair. He likes your hair. 

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. There’s no denying it this time. 

Your lips curl into a smile and your eyes dance over his features. He feels himself leaning towards you like his head is too heavy to fight your magnetic pull. 

Your noses brush, that’s when he realizes that you’re moving towards him, too. Both of you hesitate there, an acknowledgement of this point of no return— your friendship will never be the same. 

You kiss him. At first it’s a cautious meeting of lips and, suddenly, a crash of passion and excitement. It’s sloppy and unchoreographed but the two of you find a rhythm. He can taste the chocolate in your kiss. 

You climb onto his lap, sliding your hands beneath his shirt. Having all of you there, straddling him like he’s in his own wet dream, is overwhelming. Blood rushes to his cock. There’s so much of you to explore— soft places to touch and hold and taste. He wants all of you all at once and you seem just as eager. 

Your mouth roams his neck and teeth rake against his earlobe as you rock over the bulge in his jeans. He’s so sensitive from the weed, he can practically feel the hot drag of your pussy even through the layers between you. 

Dieter fumbles with the clasp of your bra and you knock his hands away to do it for him, then unbutton your pants and do the same for him. He keeps his mouth on yours as you pull off his shirt with eager kisses. 

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s met with the slick lips of your pussy giving him a delicious shiver. You gasp and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

Now your hand finds him, coating his length with precum and tugging. 

“Oh god,” he chokes. He wills himself not to finish right there in your hand. 

Dieter presses a finger into your entrance, slow and cautious, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine the crush of it around him. The strokes on his cock stutter and slow as he thrusts deeper until eventually your limp hand simply holds him. He doesn’t care.  The feeling of you is addicting, all slippery and inviting. 

“Ow,” you complain. 

“Is this ok?” Dieter asks. 

“Don’t just finger me,” you complain. 

He blanches, unsure of how to correct himself. If you want more, he’s more than willing to give it to you but it has nerves churning in his belly. 

“I’ve never done it,” Dieter says. 

He immediately wishes he could take the words and swallow them back down. His neck burns with embarrassment. The coolest girl he’s ever met is letting him in her pants and he just spoiled it all by admitting he’s a virgin. 

You stare at him with big, round eyes, your lips swollen from kissing. Your adam’s apple bobs in your throat. 

“Me either,” you tell him. 

It’s Dieter’s turn to stare. He’s shocked. It seems like you’ve done everything already. At least, everything a high school senior would aspire to do. 

If you were embarrassed to tell him that, you don’t let it linger for long. “That wasn’t what I meant,” you say. “It just— I don't think I can come that way.”

Dieter nods in awe. This isn’t the first time he’s gone to third base but he hadn’t felt very sure of his technique during those few encounters. You look a little nervous, maybe for the first time ever, but he’s so impressed you’re confident enough to tell him what you want, to even know. He wants to give you exactly what you need. 

“Show me,” he says. “Show me what you like.”

Your pupils blow out and Dieter’s not sure which one of you is more aroused. Eventually you regain yourself, nodding quickly and climbing off of his lap so you can shimmy your pants all the way off. 

Dieter can’t help but stare at all the parts of you that are exposed. You’re so pretty he can hardly believe he gets to touch you. His cock throbs at the sight and he fists himself before realizing that he’d better stop if he wants to last more than half a minute. 

You lay back on the couch, parting your bent legs for Dieter. He sits up for a good view as you explain the secrets of the universe. You take his hand and guide his fingers to your pussy, carefully sliding them along the side of your clit. It’s velvety soft and warm and slick and you take in a sharp breath. His cock jumps. Again, a wet stroke over you. You set a pace, your hand around his as he makes you melt.

“Woah,” he whispers to himself as he watches your body respond. 

He’s not sure where to look; at the glistening lips of your pussy, a rare glimpse at the opposite sex in real life or at your face, eyes closed and brow knit as you float in ecstasy. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He forgets the throbbing between his own legs, entranced by your pleasure. Your grip around his hand slackens and Dieter experiments with slightly faster strokes, kissing your neck. Your pulse thrums under his lips, your whines vibrating. 

As he gathers more slick from your entrance, you grind your clit into the heel of his hand. Your hips lift from the wet patch that’s growing beneath you. Dieter keeps his hand planted on you, giving you all the friction you need. 

He tries to find a way to tell you to use him, to take what you need, but he’s speechless. Watching a girl get off on him, and not just any girl but you, feels like witnessing a miracle. 

Your muscles tighten, every single tendon in your body wrapped up like a rubber band about to snap. He can’t help himself. Dieter slides a finger inside of you. It feels even better than before, now that your walls are coated in that sweet release. 

That’s when it crashes over you. You lock up, your arms and thighs straining. He can feel your core tensing around him desperately and he thinks he might cum just from the sight of you like this. It’s not like he’s seen in porn. You’re quiet, focused, somewhere else and he wants to go there, wherever that planet of pleasure might be. 

He wants to kiss you, to taste your release and bury his face in your tits but he doesn’t dare move and ruin this exquisite moment for you. So he keeps moving with the same steady tempo as you flutter around him. 

You groan out his name, long and slow and it sounds like music. 

Dieter feels his hips jerk and, oh fuck, he’s cumming. He tears his hand away from you to squeeze it over his spasming cock. It’s too late and the wet press of you coated on his fingers doesn’t help. He paints his torso with his own warm, sticky spend. 

You stare, eyes wildly surveying the mess on his belly, still dazed as you come down. 

He should be mortified that he just blew his load all over himself the very first time he’s gotten physical with you but his veins are coursing with bliss. His head falls back, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

“I really like you,” he says. 

Your face breaks out in a smile and you bashfully bite your lip. He feels your fingers intertwine with his own. 

“Yeah. I like you too,” you say. 

-

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and my asks are always open!

[nvuy]

tumblr did not let me post this as a proper answer because tumblr hates me. BUT the council says: BEHOLD. an excerpt from my potential extended hijacked spin off boothill fic that that may or may not be potentially finished and posted so........... take it..................... anon you might not ever see this post but the brainworms are so huge and genius and i think you cooked......................

“Tha’s the hardest part… still bein’ here.”

There’s smoke in the air, and it curls around the windshield of your car. He’s called shotgun, as per usual, but that’s because you refuse to let him drive. Especially at night. He makes you feel sick when he takes corners faster than he slams the brakes at red lights.

The car hasn’t moved for a while. The drive had been rocky; there was no destination. Just away from the city for now. You’ve managed to find a secluded area deep in a stretch of trees, and there hasn’t been a car that’s passed on the dingy highway for ages now.

Smoking does nothing for him. He doesn’t have lungs to fill anymore, and the taste never appealed to him, but it helped take his mind off of everything.

Boothill felt the tug of the cigarette between his lips, and he let it go from his mouth before he watched as you shakily held it to your lips.

It’s disgusting. He snickers slightly when you cough and scrunch your eyes shut. You hand the cigarette back to him slowly.

You fan at your face, careful not to spill the half full bottle of wine balancing between your legs and the car seat. It’s one of the fancy brands Boothill snatched off the shelf on the way out of the bar from earlier after the manager had ordered him out. Something about not serving crooks. Whatever.

Your car reeks of smoke.

As much as the smell clogged your lungs, you hope it stays this way. 

“‘Specially since, y’know, it woulda been better if one o’ my dads lived, or my sisters, or even–” He takes another drag of the cigarette. “But, nah. Fate’s finicky like that. Leaves the worst ones standin’. That’s why we’re still around.”

And he’s right.

You take a sip from the bottle. You’re tipsy now. Definitely. You feel lighter than usual, and you’d worry about driving back somewhere to stay for the night.

You can’t drive in this state.

Boothill could drive back. You're too drunk to panic over how badly he swerves over the road.

And if he can’t, you could just sleep in the car for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time.

And, with him, maybe you would be okay.

Your vision is blurry, and there's an incessant burning beneath your eyelids. You quickly wipe your eyes. “Yeah.” God, you wish it was you who had disappeared. It would’ve saved your parents the heartache. You can’t even look at your reflection anymore. “Yeah, I get it.”

Boothill doesn’t say anything at first. He repeats your reply in his head like a mantra.

Instead, he blows smoke from his nose slowly in a long exhale, and then says, “I know you do.”

Furiously, you wipe your eyes again and tear your eyes away from the rearview mirror. You can’t will yourself to look. Though you feel nothing on your shoulder, you know the past sits behind you, and her hand rests on your skin like a weight.

Sometimes, it’s hard to even look at him, for when the metal of his body is reflective enough, you don’t see yourself, but her staring back at you.

He’s not sure what to say. Instead, he thinks it wise to potentially fry your car battery. He steals your phone charger hooked into the car and finds the slot that fits it best on his hip. Good enough. Hopefully it gives him enough juice to get through the next couple days.

“Oh, give it here.” You grab the wire from him. “You’re gonna break my damn charger.”

You peer at his ports curiously as he takes another drag of the silhouette, before you mumble something about the shape being a ‘USB-C’ and plug it into the right slot on his hip.

A small red light flashes to life above the port.

Boothill hums. “Thanks, sugar.” He doesn’t have to look at you, but the telltale scent of wine on your lips is enough for him to know. “You drunk?”

After a moment, you nod slowly. “Yeah.” Then, you twist in the chair to face him, bringing the bottle to your lips again. Your seatbelt is still on, even if the car has been parked for an hour. There’s a pang in your chest, and it tightens. “I miss her.”

She’s still staring at you in the mirror, but it’s not really her. Whatever this thing is, it’s not her. But it’s there, and it makes your heart race.

Boothill nods. “I miss my family, too.” He leans over and punches your thigh playfully. “But, I know your parents want ya to live for as long as you can. I know she would, too.”

You exhale. You’re beginning to feel sick now. Your stomach can’t take another blow from the wine, but you raise it to your lips anyway.

It burns when you swallow, like fire.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He stops. Then, he turns away and raises his eyebrows in exasperation. “Just tryin’ to lift ya spirits.” Still, as exhausted as he feels, his rests a hand on your thigh. It’s comforting, the weight of metal, and it takes your mind off the fingers on your shoulders.

“I don’t think you’re the worst,” you mumble. You actually think you’re worse. Then, you shrug lightly. “I don’t want to lose you when you go.” You hear him exhale, somewhat to rid the smoke from his mouth, and also in the form of a sigh. “I know you won’t believe me, but I think I care about you.”

After you admit it, you pull the rim of the bottle to your lips again.

And then again.

And again.

Three sips later, you’re on the verge of collapsing, and Boothill snatches the bottle from your hand and stands it up by his feet on the car floor.

Your lips are stained a dark red, as is your tongue, and there’s a dark flush on your neck.

Sweat gathers over your skin, even if it’s freezing outside. The smoke is warm, and your legs are shaking.

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

Boothill turns his head and stares out the window. The stars are bright out here away from the city. It reminds him of home. None of that awful light pollution back there in that boring old planet that he loved to death.

If he could’ve, he would’ve taken you there.

That place doesn’t exist anymore.

He feels you would’ve loved his daughter. He feels she would’ve loved you a lot more.

“You ain’t gon’ lose me,” he whispers. He’s still not looking at you. He’s not sure if he’s lying, but he knows he wouldn't lie on purpose. Not to you. Not now.

He squeezes your thigh reassuringly. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Boothill hears the sound of your seatbelt unbuckling, and a shaky exhale follows.

Maybe you’re drunk out of your mind, and his breath stinks of tobacco, and it’s awful on your tongue, but you leap over the centre console of the car as best you can and hurriedly press your lips to his.

It hurts, and it makes him dizzy, and you feel like you’re floating, but he reciprocates, pressing further against your mouth. Your teeth clink, it’s messy, it’s awful, but it satisfies a burning in your stomach.

You snatch his hat and toss it in the back seat. His nose is cold, and it smushes against your cheekbone.

It lasts too long, and not long enough, for after a moment, he pulls his hands off your hips grabs your chin gently to push you off him.

You try to fuse your skin with his. Your stomach presses to his. Boothill’s eye softens and a grin grows on his lips when you sigh in defeat.

He laughs gently. “Easy, beautiful. I know you’re drunk as fudge.” He instead moves your head to his chest and pulls you gently into him. “Just sleep it off. You’re g’nna have the worst hangover in the mornin’.”

You hum and shift in his lap.

It falls silent for a moment.

“You’re so uncomfortable,” you murmur.

Boothill chuckles louder and blows a teasing cloud of smoke on the top of your head that you frantically wave away. He stares out the window again, and all the while, his free hand gently pets the top of your hair. He’s mindful that his joints can very well tangle easily.

“I bet,” he answers.

You murmur something he doesn't hear. Despite your complaints, you still fall asleep on his chest before you feel him lean down and his lips press to your hair.

[pockeymcmockey]

𝔚𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℭ𝔥𝔢𝔡𝔡𝔞𝔯 | ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

Synopsis: The events of Blood and Cheese but told by someone else.

Warnings: Angst, death, descriptions of decapitation, insinuated touching of inappropriate places on a child (not sexually).

Author's Note: Wanted to try writing in a new point of view to make it easier for readers to place themselves as the main character.

Aelys is fussing in his crib tonight. He senses something I cannot. The twist in my stomach is unnerving, but I cannot tell the difference if it is anxiety or the babe growing in it. I comfort him the only way I know how. Brushing an index finger down the bridge of his nose, cooing him silently back to slumber, plentiful in dreams, perhaps. A brother, or perhaps a sister will be born soon. I hope for a daughter but I suppose Aelys is fit for braids as well.

A jiggle at the bedchamber door. Has Aemond returned? The boy grows restless, I think he is afraid. Is it because of his father? No. I know why, now. My heart is racing. I'm afraid, too. This smell, a rancid stench that turns my stomach and I gag. He is hungry, not for food but for something else. For me? Will he defile me? He's holding a weapon. It's cutting at my skin and it stings, but the blood tickles as it runs to soak my clothes.

He's speaking, to me, I think. Does he want coin? Jewels, maybe. I have a ring from Mother. Would he want that? I can't hear him. What is pounding in my ear? Oh... It's my heart. Yes, I am definitely afraid. I want to protect my child. I have to. But I cannot move an inch, not unless I want to meet the Gods, Old and New. Oh, he's not alone. Are they ratcatchers? The bigger one looks like a ratcatcher.

"Does she look like a fuckin' son to you?" The big one is afraid, too. I can tell. A son. They are not here for me. Are they here for Aemond? He's not here. He's away. Flea Bottom, usually. They want a son. I have a son. They'll take him. My boy. I love my boy. I can't stop them, though.

"She's the prince's lady wife," the smaller one answered. His nose presses against my jaw and it's cold. He reeks. I can't stand the smell, I might empty my stomach. He whispers words to me. He wants me to tell him if the child is a boy. I should lie. But what if they check? They'll hurt me for my untruthfulness. I'm scared. They'll hurt my baby.

"It's a boy."

The big one is touching my boy. He knows now. He's going to hurt him. Anything. Anything but my sweet Aelys. "Please..." I think I'm crying. My cheeks feel wet and my eyes sting. I can't see very well either. They're blurry. "Don't take my boy." They're not listening. They didn't listen. The short one released me, he's walking to the crib.

The large one pulled something out of his bag. Is- I can't breathe. The squelching, the smell. I run. Run out of the room and down the corridors. My belly churns. My heart feels sad and cold. I don't like this feeling. I want it to stop. There's mother's door. Mother. And Ser Criston. I fall at the bed. Clinging to my unborn child. My chest hurts. It's my heart, I think.

"They killed the boy." I think I said it out loud but my ears ring too loudly for me to tell. I wish Aemond were here. He'll be angry. He'll burn someplace I think. He always burns things when he's angry. Mother's getting dressed. Ser Criston, too. I think they heard me. I don't want to go back. Mother said I should stay here. I will.

They've returned. It's been an hour. They said they've found Aelys' head. They took my boy's head. I'm crying again. I weep for my son. Aemond is home. He stands at the door looking at me. Just looking. I think he is sad too. His eye holds a tear unshed. Is he sorry? I hope not. I don't think I could forgive him if he was.

"Are you harmed?" He asks me. I nod but I cannot speak. I have no other words to say. I miss my lovely boy. He was beautiful like his father. He was kind. Aemond looks angry again. Not at me, I think. He's kneeling now. His touch is soft when he brushes my cheek. Oh, he's wiping my tears. He tells me to sleep. That he'll be back in the morning. I know he's going to hurt them. But I listen. I don't want to sleep on the bed. The floor is comfortable.

I don't remember falling asleep but I'm awake now. I want to see the aftermath. It's upsetting. It's also lonely. The crib is gone. They're building a new one for the babe. They'll be here soon. My belly is large. I don't want another child. I want Aelys. I'm being selfish. I like being selfish. Aemond is selfish. I was alone. He was with his mistress.

I care not for a child I know not.

How ironic. The sky is lovely this morrow. The wind blows stronger. The grass grows greener. And Aelys is... beautiful.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

A Compromise

—

Time Written - 12:44 p.m

Jason Todd/pregnantfem!reader

(Again, if you don’t like how rugged he looks, bite me)

“Y’know, sometimes you stink when you come back,” you say, making him both aware of your presence behind him, attempting some form of amusement to break the ice.

His fingers halt on the buckles on his gun harness upon hearing your voice, his back facing the doorway from where he sat on the bed. He doesn’t turn around, not moving in response to what you say. You hadn’t spoken much to him since the night before, and this is what you say?

Of course he knows he stinks. After every patrol, he reeks of wet dirt, filthy water from putrid puddles lining the alleyways, and blood. Or something similar with a rusty, metallic tinge, and that’s not exactly a clean scent.

Jason halted his actions, not sure how to answer that. Sure, maybe he’s not all that hygienic when he’s out on a mission, but that’s a normal thing right? That’s what he comes home for, for nice hot showers and time with his girl.

He grumbles silently to himself, knowing you only make such comments to annoy him. Given the tension between you both was a still little rough, maybe you weren’t as angry as before, given how you started talking to him again.

“Do I? Only sometimes?” He sounds oh so surprised whilst peeking a glance over his shoulder, a sheepish grin playing across his face. One that he couldn’t hold back when he sees you there, all ready for bed while he was gearing up for ‘work.’

“More like all the time, right?” he adds, his tone dripping with a light hint of sarcasm as he pulled his gloves on.

“A good eighty percent,” You muster up another comment, your fingers fiddling with your shirt.

"Eighty, Doll?" He sighs heavily, his arm crossed over his chest in mock distress over this. How he was choosing to act this way slightly caught you by surprise, given you had limited view of what he was doing.

Of course he wouldn’t admit it yet, but he had missed the way you would tease him about variously stupid things—your attitude was what he really enjoyed the most about you.

“So you’re saying I don’t smell about two out of ten times?” he counters confidently, gazing up as if in deep thought. “Not a horrible percentage. Not great though, either.”

A faint tongue click erupted from the front door, causing a tickle in the corner of his lip.

"Why not just say I always stink, huh?" he asks, his tone slightly playful, a faint smile growing his face.

"I guess I could take a bath, but.." Jason trails off, exaggerating his shrugging shoulders. "You do know I'm a guy, right? Baths aren't my thing."

You then scoff, rolling your eyes after his little arrogant display. How does Jason manage to be so frustrating with his undivided attempt at cocky humor?

“Sure, whatever.” You mumble, lightly settling a hand on your protruding stomach.

Jason stood from his perch on the edge of the bed, fully taking in your slouched stance along the doorway. Fresh out of a shower, hair styled for sleep, wearing a purposefully oversized shirt to accommodate your expanding bump you mindlessly nestled along your palm.

He sighs, unable to help feeling a little more guilty by the second. His gaze lingered along your bump, slightly chewing on the inner corner of his cheek.

“Fine, Fine. When I get back I’ll go take a damn bath.” He groans as if it’s a massive chore thrown on his shoulders while reaching for his jacket. “But only because you asked.”

“Jason,” you gruff, watching him put on another sly grin before adjusting the rest of his uniform, tugging his jacket over his shoulders.

"And I still think baths aren't necessary. Showers? Sure, soaps are a necessity. But baths? Complete waste of time."

“That’s not what I’m—“ you start, but ultimately stop and sigh.

His unnecessary ranting just proved he was sidetracking off the topic that hung over both your heads. The reason you both yelled at each other the entire night before he vanished from your sight. The reason you were left in an empty house until his usual return around six in the morning, but even then silence was the main music that filled the space.

Safety; the whole topic had been about Jason’s safety.

He knows you’re concerned every day he heads out the door each night. He knows you want him to be safe, or as safe as he can possibly manage whilst carrying two guns and a plethora of hidden knives on his person.

He remembers being so frustrated, so damn angry, though he even wasn’t sure what had brought it on. You weren’t even hostile when you sat down with him to talk about it, never raised your voice once until he did it first.

He remembered how much he wanted to make you understand that he has to be out there. Very very few people in Gotham do what Jason does, but truly, no one does exactly what he does.

Straightening yourself, you glance off to the side, fighting back an irritating groan before sighing in defeat.

“Look Jay, I’m not gonna push it.” You look him in the eyes, taking your genuine, honest approach, just like you had done before all hell had broken loose. “Just understand, I just want you to be more careful, okay? That’s all I wanted.”

Doing what he does never guarantees he comes home unscathed. His sides still ached from deep bruises along his ribs, a gash along his back was still tightly shut with dissolvable stitches. The clean cut along his lower right cheek was still secured with butterfly bandaids.

You only suggested he stayed home to rest. To recover, to heal. You never called him weak, though he was weak minded to take your words the wrong way.

“No, I get it,” Jason mumbles, his brow furling as he approaches, heavy combat boots creaking against the floor. “You’re right. About all of it.”

He wasn’t ashamed to admit it, despite the conflict rattling in his brain. It’s not just them anymore. The two of you’ve come so far together, your biggest worry was the two of you not being on the same page.

Jason moves a hand towards your stomach, gently rubbing his palm around the most precious part of of your body.

All he just wants is for you to understand that he’s not the same Jason he was all those years ago, not the Jason you remember. Not the man who allowed his anger to slaughter crime lords and take a role into a drug ring.

He’s much better than that. He struggles, yes, but he tries.

“I just want you and the baby to be safe,” He states, watching your brows soften with a slow nod.

“I know you do.” You whisper with understandable certainty. Not once did that doubt ever cross your mind, and it never will.

He can’t help but smile, his forehead resting against yours. So close together that your noses touch.

Now, last night feels like an eternity ago. Jason didn’t storm out of the house with a bubbling bottle of unfit rage, you didn’t cling to your phone and have trouble sleeping over his whereabouts throughout the night.

“You worry about me, babe. I appreciate that more than you can know.” He murmurs, exhaling softly through his nose. “But this is … think about this being another way I can take care of you. Of us, alright?”

You blink, swallowing slowly before nodding in acceptance. Your eyes flutter, the bottom of your throat slightly burning, but you maintain your composure.

Jason was going to keep doing what he does; continue being Red Hood, continue keeping you safe. That’s just the way it was going to have to be, even after the baby becomes a babbling bundle in your arms.

“You could just stay here tonight at least. Hang out with us instead,” you casually insist, raising a hand to stroke his uninjured cheek. “We can order in pizza, find something on Netflix. Cuddle under a thousand sherpa blankets.”

Jason exhales, tilting his head back with closed eyes.

What he would give to drop it all and commit to such a tempting suggestion. Really, he would.

If what he did wasn’t do damn important, if they didn’t live in such a crooked city, taking up your offer would be a lot better than a chest of ten grand abandoned on the street.

“Another time, princess. I can always make it up to you.” He smiles back down at you, settling both hands on each side of your hips.

“How do I smell, by the way?” he questions. “Because if I smell so bad you aren’t going to kiss me.”

Your response was to smile and playfully shove his shoulder, only for his hands to hold you closer, fingers squeezing your plush body.

“That’s mean, Mister Todd.”

He laughs, slowly leading to a snicker. “Don’t deny it—I know you.”

His voice lowers towards the end of his sentence, leaning closer to kiss you. With an additional squeeze, Jason feels your arms lock around the back of his neck in a warm embrace.

Your soft bump lightly pressed against his lower waist, nudging against the buckle of his gear belt. In a few more months, their growing baby would be putting physical distance between them, resorting in him picturing more intimate methods he could hug you as closely as possible.

A emphasizing reminder of his priorities for fighting crime nearly almost every night.

“I’m thinking it’ll be a boy,” you whisper, watching his head lower to settle against your shoulder, his gaze trailing straight down in between your bodies.

“Think he’ll wanna take after me?” He asks, heavy lidded eyes flickering up towards yours in question.

“Well, boy or girl, I would hope they have your eyes,” you reply, enjoying the warmth and comfort of him against you. Just having him close made your heartbeat relax, having you feel nearly good about life. Just for a minute.

“In attitude? I would absolutely think so.”

Jason smiles, returning his attention back towards your bump. He tries to make that thought more comforting, but he’s nervous and tense just as you are at the end of the day.

He hopes they turn out as warm as you are. Warm, comforting, happy and safe. A safety Jason adores every single time he comes back to you, a comfort that made him regret leaving you alone the other night.

You’re his weakness, and he knows it.

“You can make it up by bringing back pizza.” You suggest, hearing him snort.

“Doll, What kind of pizza place is open at five?”

You purse your lips. Valid point.

“I guess Benny’s will work,” you mumble, hands trailing over his shoulders. “Or you’re not allowed back in the house.”

A short smirk invades Jason’s face. He had to come home with a maple sausage breakfast sandwich from a local diner, or face the wrath of locked doors and windows.

Luckily for him, Benny’s opens at five in the morning. Four on weekends.

Jason exaggerates another exhale through his nose, thankful he didn’t slip on his mask as he spares a kiss on your right temple. Whatever you want, even if it was the keys to the Batmobile or the rights to a planet, it’s yours, as long as he gets to come home to you.

“I gotcha, mama.”

[mactiir]

ranking baldur's gate characters by how i think they smell

#9) Minthara. Because she’s a corpse, next question.

#8) Lae'zel. You know this woman has never bathed. Washing is for the weak, is'tik. She says this is because needs her musk to attract mates but mostly it's cuz Gith education doesn't exactly make time for personal hygiene. Once it got so bad that Tav dragged the whole party through a chest-deep stream and stood there for 20 minutes to take a "breather" while Laezel stared daggers at them the whole time.

#7) Karlach. I want Karlach to smell nice so badly, and Karlach probably wants Karlach to smell nice too, but you know this woman smells like brimstone and engine exhaust and sweat. On good days she smells like the fine char you get on burgers on a summer day. On bad days she smells like a truck stop at peak hours, and the truck stop is also on fire. She's not happy about this either.

#6) Gale. Gale tries to keep himself groomed, he really does. But he looks like he is perpetually just a tiny bit smelly. Like he hyperfocused on a book slightly too hard for slightly too long and as a result he forgot to shower for a week. He acts like he bedded Mystra because of his towering intellect but really it's cuz gods don't have human senses of smell. His nightshirt looks velvet, too, and you KNOW it can't be easy to get smells out of that shit without a washer. He is one of those poor guys who is cursed to always stink a little bit no matter how much he showers. When Tav confronts him about this he decides, on the spot, that deodorant is for anti-intellectuals, actually, which he wouldn't have expected Tav to know but it's okay, we can't all be enlightened.

#5) Minsc. He doesn't reek exactly, but you know he's 100% man musk, hamster bedding, and butt-kicking

Tied for #5) Jaheira. You know 100 years of living in forests and adventuring with Minsc has endowed her with exactly the same level of manly perfume as Minsc (except with notes of cedarwood).

#4) Wyll. He used to be the best-smelling until Mizora pulled him through every level of hell in rapid succession, and now he smells a little bit like brimstone all the time. He sometimes rubs fragrant herbs on his horns to counteract it, which doesn't get rid of the smell, really, but it gives his smell an interesting dimension. Otherwise, he has enough experience with adventuring, and is well-bred enough, that him and his things are usually well-groomed (and also because his dad was a freak about it).

#3) Shadowheart. This woman puts on tragic makeup every morning and changes her hair to reflect her religion. Appearances are EVERYTHING (especially when it comes to keeping secrets). Shadowheart smells exactly like she thinks she needs to smell to be religiously pleasing to her goddess and/or coMplEtE thE mIsSioN. She does get anxious sweats though, which are very distinctive if it's been a long day of adventuring. She never admits this, though. Ever.

#2) Astarion. Okay, so, sometimes, he smells just the teensiest, tiniest bit like dried blood. But mostly, he smells like baby powder and potpourri. It is a waste of good fashion sense and his pretty face to go about stinking like a beggar. (He does go through a brief 'Cazador can't tell ME what to do' phase where he stops bathing for a day, but he grosses himself out so much that he resumes his normal routime before anyone notices.)

#1) Halsin. You'd expect him to stink, with his whole smelly-hippy free-love vibe, but nah. The man smells heavenly. He spends all his time frolicking through fragrant herbs and lounging in scented hot springs with whomever strikes his fancy. He probably has a whole ass medicine cabinet full of stuff he uses to freshen up. His breath probably smells like mint and his hair like cedar. He probably puts coconut oil or smth in his hair. He knows how to smell good as literally any animal in the realms. Wanna know why? Dogs have a sense of smell several thousand times better than people. I bet bears do, too. You do Not Fuck As A Bear without understanding not only how to WASH your ass, but also perfume it. Halsin also knows: thou shalt not give yeast infections. And if you got bear dick, that means HYGIENE. It's a point of pride for him, actually.

BONUS: WITHERS. Withers smells like nothing. Like, freakishly, unsettlingly like nothing. Like, you expect him to smell like dust or pitch or smth. Nope. He's a black hole of smell. You come near him and if you ask, he resets your entire hygiene routine for 100 gold and leaves you smelling like roses.

[macsimagines]

mikey izana and shin react to getting scented so thorughly by their s/o that they get mistaken for an omega after leaving the house

Darling almost never gets to be the possessive one lol nice change of pace.

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, ABO

Yandere!Alpha Manjiro Sano

He loves you and loves to be scented by you, but you're a little bit needier than usual with your heat coming soon. "Baby, you gotta let me go. We need groceries." "Mmmmm, lemme just rub on you a little more~ Pleeeaaase, baby?"

Immediately regrets it when he walks outside reeking of Omega. He shakes it off when he hears a few whistles down the street because there's no way they're whistling at him.

Then some asshole alpha, that REEKS of horny, tries to pick him up in the middle of the store. "Hey baby, want a real man to take care of your heat?" "...Man going to jail wasn't on my to-do list BUT-"

Ya he beats that guy in the middle of a damn Walgreens and goes home to give you an earful. Too bad he walks in and your heat is in full swing.

"Mikey? Alpha? ...Why do you smell like that!?" you snarl in repulsion. "Your fault. Come here and fix it."

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

In a similar situation to Mikey's. You're in your heat and usually Izana wouldn't allow such dominant displays, but you're never this loving to him.

He is just drowning in your attention and affection when he suddenly remembers that he forgot to get some groceries for your heat. And he can't have you starving when you're being such a good girl.

Doesn't leave you though. Can't bear the thought of going out when you're finally being so caring to your rightful Alpha and King, so he just opts to order food for you.

Then the delivery driver shows up with all the groceries in hand and Izana makes the mistake of opening the door to greet him. "Damn, baby-boy. Rough heat?" the guy says with a sleazy smile and Izana doesn't even think twice before grabbing him by the collar and smashing his face into the adjacent wall.

"You try'na die, Fucker?" he growls, letting off all the suffocating alpha pheromones that you've been drowning out. But then he hears your sad little chirps from the other room and is forced to release the idiot delivery driver.

Yandere!Shinichiro Sano

He is so in love with you and lets you scent him as much as you damn well please. Even though, it is constantly getting him into trouble.

Gets hit on all the time by other alpha's that think he's some cute rebellious Omega. "I'm an ALPHA FUCKERS!" Gets his ass kicked a lot for picking those fights...

Wouldn't change a thing though because at least he has an omega that loves to scent him as much as you do. Honestly gets high off all the pheromones you're giving.

"Mmmmgoodsogoodbabymmmm~" croons so happy and pleased for you every time you snuggle and scent him. "That's a good, Alpha. Letting your Omega scent you, like a good boy~" and he just nods along and says whatever you want to hear because he really is such a good boy.

Does get made fun of by everyone. "So...How was Y/N, Big Bro? Was she happy? Cause she smells like she was suuuuper happy-" "Shuddup, Mikey! You just don't know what it takes to keep an Omega happy!"

He wears your smell with pride though. Doesn't ever tell you to stop it and in fact encourages you to do it more often. He also scents you just as much.

"We gotta make sure people can smell your Alpha right baby?"