#oh lord I’m high here’s one I never planned on posting but it seems like a good idea so I’m gonna

[olivexing]

having a lil smoke (to cope)

olympe’s claws also function as a roach clip.

[emmaofnormandy]

The Dragon and the Rose.

• In this universe, Lady Kathryn Howard crosses path with King Aegon II. The result of it may be more surprising than what onlookers have judged at first…

Long post; fluffy.

"You need a wife", the Dowager Queen of Westeros tells his son. "As a king, specially given the current circumnstances, you need to produce an heir. Such a deed cannot be done by yourself, as you must know.”

Aegon rolls his eyes at his mother’s words. Despite his reluctance to get himself crowned as the overlord of the seven kingdoms, here he is now, urged to get married. And he cannot take his sister as his wife as former Targaryens did because she simply eloped with Aemond.

Not that I needed her anyway.

Besides, Aegon believes he can have any woman he desires. Why marrying one alone? When he makes this point to his mother, Queen Alicent takes a very deep breath as if she is beseeching her patience in Heaven before saying:

“We need allies, you fool. And a legitimate heir.” She says between gritted teeth. “If you are not looking for one, I will. Should I explain the basics to you? If you don’t have legitimate heirs, Rhaenyra’s sons will rule after you. Is that what you want?”

That has her son’s attention. Good. Alicent softens and smiles.

“You can choose any noblewoman you like as long as it’s a highborn damsel appropriate for the rule of a consort.”

“Very well”, Aegon sighs. “I will do my best, my lady mother.”

Yet, where should he begin? Perhaps Aegon should ask the aid of his siblings for that task. As he summons Aemond back to court, Aegon does not need a very long time to tell the reason why he needs his younger brother’s help.

“Ah right. A wife, a queen. I’ll pity the woman who might get all the praises but your attention when she sits in the place once occupied by our mother.”

“If I needed your disdain, Aemond, believe me… I would rather you to stay with Helaena wherever the fuck you have been.”

“Watch your tongue, Your Grace”, Aemond smirks. “Very well. I’ve been traveling for a while and if no Westerosi ladies get your attention, I can give you other suggestions.”

Aegon’s eyebrows are epically raised.

“Oh?”

And so he is told of England and its own noble houses, one of which has been friendly towards Aemond and Helaena in their journey to the west: the Howards.

***

Katherine never before felt so uncomfortable as when she was at the court of King Henry. Specially when she’s getting his unwelcome flatteries.

King he is, but he could be my father. Worse, he is not handsome at all. Why cannot he be content with his wife? Poor lady Anne does not deserve this treatment.

However, her uncle seems pleased with the idea of rising high in the court sphere once again. Whilst Thomas Howard contemplates a form to separate the king from his wife by joining him to his niece, his brother, Edmund Howard, is not sharing his enthusiasm.

In fact, without Katherine’s knowledge, her father has been entertaining other ideas. Having received Lord Aemond and his wife, lady Helaena, there had been conversations concerning a possible betrothal to Aegon Targaryen and his daughter. Eventually, though, Edmund becomes anxious to remove Katherine out of court.

“What?”, Katherine is talking with her first cousin, the countess of Richmond. “What are you talking about? Why would my father ask me to leave? You are lying.”

Lady Mary Howard sighs.

“Just read this envelope here. I’m sure you can read, can you not, cousin?”

Katherine blushes at the sharp tongue of the other woman, but takes the letter and opens it without giving an answer. As she reads the content, she is partly relieved for leaving—she’d been feeling like a fox about to become the prey of a dangerous predator with no chance to escape. On the other hand, she is somewhat preoccupied about how this will be handled.

“How familiar are you with this plan, cousin?”, inquires Katheryn, suspicious about the veracity of it.

Lady Mary shrugs her shoulders in a nonchalant posture, although her eyes give an otherwise meaning.

“Familiar enough to help you escape the hands of the tyrant. I am helping you because I’ve been there too, although he ensured to deprive me of the presence of my beloved”, she explains in between gritted teeth.

Lady Mary was referring to the days she’d been married to Henry FitzRoy, King Henry’s favoured son, albeit illegitimate. But due to the monarch’s paranoia, they never made to consummate their love for each other and what happened next was her widowhood.

Katheryn understands well her sentiments and appreciates that amongst her family members there was at least one relative she could trust. The relief is evident in her features which softens her cousin’s pride mask.

“You deserve better, cousin.”

And so the new journey to Katheryn Howard’s life begins.

***

As the feast begins, Aegon is nowhere to be found, much to his mother’s dismay. The unpleasant task to find him falls upon Ser Criston Cole’s dutifulness since Aemond has been too busy with his wife to remind Aegon of his regal duties.

“Bring him to us as soon as possible. We have been told the lady is arriving anytime now. Aegon must be here to receive her”, so the dowager queen points out as-a-matter-of-fact.

It takes little time for Ser Criston to find the king. He is in his bed, taking his time to let the hangover state out of himself.

“Your Grace”, says the knight. “Do you intend to spend the rest of the day in your bed whilst the Seven Kingdoms await your good will in ensuring its rule goes as expected?”

Aegon sighs heavily. His hair is a mess, his eyes are only half open, in a state that only irritates the knight. But before the king is lectured about his misconduct, Aegon decides to take leave of his bed.

“You may spare your breath”, says the silver haired prince. “I am doing what is expected of me today.”

Ser Criston raises an eyebrow all the whilst folding his arms, in a posture that clearly disbelieves the other’s words.

“I mean it. I am perfectly aware that very few have some faith in me”, he says grudgingly.

As if to prove him right of surprising everyone, Aegon cleans himself and dresses in his mother’s colors. Although unwillingly, he knows there is a role to play. And this is the day he ought to do things in a different way.

The moment he arrives to the grand hall is the same moment where his soon to be wife arrives too. His mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, is relieved and ensuring nothing goes wrong.

But when the doors open, destiny plays the card that will change everything.

***

It is a beautiful court, so Katheryn judges as her eyes capture the shades of dark green that somehow mixes with red and black, although it could be more colorful.

She is very impressed, though. The Red Keep is all about grandiosity, reinforced by the regality in the decoration, joined by the beautiful landscape that has been running through her eyes during her journey from London.

But nothing impacted her more than seeing the shadow of grand beasts, flying across the skies and howling through the air. Katheryn once read about them… Dragons, that’s what they were named. They were the symbol of the Tudor dynasty, the same one her beloved uncle sought to marry her into.

The prestige is not worth it, I know it in me.

Nevertheless, she wanted a good marriage for herself, being the noble lady she is. So her father sent her to be the wife of another king, whom he assured to be more gentle and closer to her in age than Henry Tudor.

Now that she is walking into the Red Keep surrounded by her retinue and her eyes are glued upon the regal figure that stands tall, Katheryn finds herself amazed.

As Aegon slowly comes to greet her, both seem to be oblivious to the anxious parts that seem to be eager to join them in sacred ceremony. They too ignore the pair of eyes that follow them curiously.

They only seem to notice each other. Whilst Katheryn is, admittedly, baffled by his Valyrian features, so is Aegon by her English inheritance. Never before had he met dark, astonishing and deep eyes staring so intently into his lilac ones.

“My lady Howard”, Aegon is the one who breaks the ice by greeting her with a proper bow. “Welcome to King’s Landing. I pray your journey has not been uncomfortable for your ladyship.”

A weak blush paints her pale cheeks as she curtseys in return.

“Your Majesty, I appreciate the kindness you display towards me. Indeed the journey has been good, thank you.”

“That is fantastic to hear”, says Aegon, unable to refrain his growing smile. Then gallantly he extends his hand to her and Katheryn promptly takes it.

It is as if the world breathes in relief when the Westerosi king is delighted at his foreigner queen-to-be. To some as the former queen of the realm, though, there is still much to wait for the unpredictable Aegon.

But even the lady Alicent is forced to admit that prospectives are positive so far.

“What are your impressions of this land you’ve set foot? In all honesty, I’ve never encountered a foreigner lady like yourself before”, says the charmed king.

Kathryn smiles, pleasantly blushed to get his attention. Indeed, Aegon’s handsomeness, gallantries and youth count positive for this alliance favoured by her father against her uncle’s ambitions in rising another of his family to occupy King Henry’s vacant side.

Even before these impressions, Kathryn is no fool. She spent enough time at the court of the old king to know that appearances can be misleading—and deadly.

This conversation is the start of something new for both parts involved… and more so when considering a new world beyond the seven kingdoms of Westeros.

For King Aegon, however, this marriage is politically fruitful: not sooner and his reign will be acknowledged before his fellow kings out of Westeros.

Yet… when looking at Lady Katherine, these dark eyes and darker hair make him forget of the true purpose of this union. Each time she smiles, Aegon realizes that maybe now… he wants more than casual flings.

***

As controversial as the wheel of fortune might be, Lady Katherine occupies the higher ground without fearing for her life. Henry Tudor is no more the reasons of her concern nor disgusts, the mere thought of him is now turned to dust.

She is queen herself… of a distant realm, where she has a husband to please and duties to attend without the fear of reprehension of her uncle Thomas Howard, even though Aegon’s grandsire, Otto Hightower, has the same likes—somewhat irksome to her.

What does it matter? I am the queen now.

In these festivities, Kathryn enjoys the attentions of her handsome husband, with whom she comes to discover there is so much they share in common.

“As soon as we can, I’ll take you to a ride. Have you ever been to a dragon’s back before?”

“I do not think husband”, she says, savouring the taste this new word brings, with a gentle smirk, “that I have ever even seen one.”

It is inconceivable to Aegon that there is a world out there where dragons are not part of it. Thus as his wife tells him about her origins, all she’d known about these flying creatures are stories, legends, myths, his bafflement only increases.

“I shall bring you to Sunfyre by tomorrow dawn”, he vows to her, very serious in keeping his promise when locking their hands tied.

In this crowded room, every sound dies before this new level of intimacy just recently disclosed. When Aegon looks at Kathryn, she knows he sees her for who she is.

Not just her beauty. But who she really is underneath all of this pomp she likes to exhibit in a form to conceal her sensibility and all of her dreams that her family despised and she had no other choice but to hide.

One gaze is enough. No more words are enough. Silence already speaks for itself.

*

“You fancy her”, observes Lord Aemond when he occupies the vacant place left by Lady Kathryn. By his brother’s side, their eyes follow the brunette’s moves, captured by the vivacity in her gracious steps as she dances.

“Could it be otherwise?”

“When mother at first suggested you to wed Helaena, you despised her.”

“Suggested?”, Aegon snorts at his younger brother. “That is kind of you. Well, Laena and I never saw eye to eye, which worked out for you just fine if I recall well.”

Aemond gives the eldest of the two a smirk.

“Indeed, though what I wanted to say is that you can be…”

“Imprudent?”

“I’d prefer to say careless”, says he. “Whereas the lady Kathryn is a blossom rose.”

Aegon’s eyes go to the woman the High Sparrow crowned, the brunette of a foreigner land he espoused. So much joy in her figure, the gentleness evident in her countenance, reinforcing a beauty that brings her the attention.

“I am not a man who shares”, says the king, subtly, giving more in these words than his pride would bend to admit.

Aemond takes the glass to his lips, pleased for the result of his match.

“I know how well you like to keep your prizes to yourself.”

And nothing further has been discussed about it.

***

“Lady, today you will experiment few out of our family has ever had”, so boasts Aegon, proudly. He likes the eyes of his wife on him, carrying a new genuine admiration he’s never found on the eyes of another.

“And what is that, husband?”, she asks, excited and intrigued.

They are out of the Red Keep this day. Though it’s not cloudy, it’s a little windy, but perfect condition to fly. Kathryn is frightened, though she struggles to conceal it, before the sight of large beasts that howl through the air and are not mythological.

“I appreciate your efforts in playing the brave, my dear”, Aegon smiles at her, bringing her closer to him. “But no need to fear. Come, let us make these new memories together.”

Kathryn is thus taken to Sunfyre, whose large yellow wings and its golden eyes impact the new queen. She blinks a few times, frozen before this encounter, but does not shy away of it.

As Sunfyre bows to her, she smiles gracefully, taking the hand Aegon extends her. The next thing she knows is adventurously wordless.

“I’ve never taken anyone to fly so high”, he whispers in her ear, pleased to see her blushing as his arms snake around her waist. “Do you want to command Sunfyre? Go on. I know you can do it.”

Kathryn gazes at her husband with a mix of surprise and atonement. Never before she was consulted in anything of the kind; her views and tastes were often disregarded as a matter of little importance.

Underneath titles two lost souls are found in a surprising alliance that is turning positively healing for both parts.

The moment she smiles, Aegon knows there is chance for redemption…. And he’s prompted to take it.

***

• Epilogue.

According to the unofficial and unnamed chronicler of Aegon’s court, the king and the queen had a very successful marriage. This gleeful union, which seems to have cast a shadow over the king’s questionable past by designing a better future, has resulted in the following children:

1. Jaehaerys, Prince of Dragonstone.

2. Elysbeth, Princess of Dragonstone, who married her oldest brother, following the Targaryen tradition.

3. Eddmund, named after the queen’s father, chose to become a Maester.

4. Alysanne, Princess of Dorne.

5. A stillborn child.

6. Daeron, who took the oath of becoming part of the King’s Guard.

7. Aemon, his twin brother, who, in due time, moved to Dragonstone and there resided with Lady Rhaella Targaryen, a cousin.

8. Laena Targaryen, who became Lady of High Garden.

It’s said that the Queen suffered with poor health after giving birth to Lady Laena. However, she managed to have a long and happy life by Aegon’s side. So then peace reigned…

[bunrotten]

saw ur post about working eight hour shifts and i don’t know if any of this will help, but here are some of the things that worked for me at least a bit <3 you said you’re a retail worker in your pinned so im basing this off of the idea of being a cashier type of role. if you aren’t in that role then i’m sorry, i hope you find some good advice ^^

- the till is a great method for ignoring eye contact, use it to your advantage whenever you can, the occasional glance up at the customer is good but if you’re burned out and that might send you over the edge, looking invested in your till (leaning in, scanning the numbers, etc) is always good. this works better if you have to type things on the till yourself. this also works with things that you’re scanning through

- if you can, take water and a snack. dehydration is a bitch and water will probably help most situations

- filler words are really good for getting through conversations if you can’t invest in them, lord knows i never could. ‘mhm’, ‘oooh’, ‘that’s great!’, ‘oh, i’m sorry about that’, even a sort of ‘mh’ noise that’s pitched up a bit could work. nodding is good as well, you seem invested but you don’t have to verbalise anything. this doesn’t work all the time but it can let you coast through a lot of them

- plan your tasks, it can help you visualise the day and work in downtimes and transitions between tasks. group similar ones and maybe stack them like high-energy low-energy high-energy. this might be set by the manager so you can’t do it yourself or you might not be able to do this one because elf a variety of reasons which is fair enough. i don’t know your schedule so this one might be impossible, sorry <33

- it’s best to take a bracelet or something to put in your pocket just in case. i find it’s easiest to fidget with necklaces so a simple long necklace that you can reach whilst standing would be good.

- plan rest times for after work. genuinely one of the biggest ones, as a species we are not built for the eight hour day. rest is incredibly important and without it, you’ll crumble. it’s best to take breaks at work as well if you’re allowed, but if not maybe slow yourself a slight bit to reserve energy

- wear a mask if you can, then you don’t have to worry about facial expressions. it might muffle your words a bit, but gestures and a slightly louder volume would make up for it. the plastic disposable ones feel awful so an adjustable cloth one is probably best. it could also block smells a little bit if that’s a big thing for you

- pack for your transport as well. a bad ride over could set you off for the rest of the day, so it’s best to have countermeasures just in case things go wrong. if you walk, always take something with a good unless you’re sure it won’t rain. have removable clothing for the heat. have a backup plan if a bus doesn’t come or you’re late out of the house

- a lot of people stress the customer service voice, i find that it’s just pitching your voice up a bit and softening it. i drop my accent a bit too because mine is harsh, but it could work in your favour if you have a southern accent (people think it’s welcoming) or similar.

- bad customers are inevitable, try and plan out how you’ll respond and keep that in mind. most places do conflict training so keep that close because it’s really important. try to soothe yourself first and keep your voice down if they get aggressive, make sure there’s something between you and the customer and have a way to call for your supervisor nearby

- loops are good if you struggle with noise. they lower noise levels and background noise but you can still hear the customer so they should be permissible at work

- get some soft thin clothes for under your uniform if it’s itchy, to try and minimise the texture on your skin. cotton shirts and tights if you can deal with those are good

some of these were basic sorry, i hope you find some ways to deal with your shifts ^^

ah oh my Gosh I was not expecting such a thoughtful response, thank you so much!!! :")) these are all so helpful and I will be keeping this as a cheat sheet forever. bless anon x

[soulwillower]

housesitting •  richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe. 

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home. 

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and  you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.' 

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner. 

because good god, that was an awful trip. 

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away. 

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer. 

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend. 

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?" 

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends). 

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment." 

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and- 

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm. 

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am."  "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap. 

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face. 

- 

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment. 

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window. 

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits. 

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize. 

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand. 

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine. 

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head. 

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time." 

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently. 

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for. 

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?" 

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him.  "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle. 

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully. 

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll." 

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night." 

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap. 

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour. 

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?" 

he hums, eyeing you but not responding. 

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?" 

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep." 

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie." 

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum." 

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah." 

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you. 

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow. 

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?” 

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face. 

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.  

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you." 

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need. 

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed. 

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing. 

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs. 

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you." 

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer. 

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen. 

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will. 

“you’re hot.” you blurt. 

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms. 

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds. 

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants." 

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release. 

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?" 

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you, 

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?" 

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips. 

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good. 

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly. 

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a  slut.” 

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please. 

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing. 

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly, 

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers. 

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back. 

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own. 

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me." 

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck. 

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?" 

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut." 

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit. 

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently. 

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere." 

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me." 

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good." 

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere." 

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door. 

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass. 

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high. 

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly. 

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that." 

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen." 

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.” 

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters  @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

[dreamkidddream]

I absolutely loved the doll! mc one with the brothers and diavolo. Could I ask for the same idea with the rest of the undateables and luke? If it isn't too much though. Thank you very much, don't forget to take care of yourself and stay hydrated!

I’m glad you enjoyed the first part!! I hope you’re staying safe through this pandemic and that you’re drinking plenty of water. I’m so happy that people liked the Doll!MC scenario so much (it even became one of my top posts and I was NEVER expecting that to happen 😳 click here to read it with the Bros and Diavolo). I got an UR card for Barbatos today and immediately thought back to this scenario cause I was just imagining the different situations with Doll!MC. Hope you enjoy!

Also, Luke’s part is strictly platonic, just FYI!

The Undateables (Minus Diavolo) with Doll!MC

Barbatos

Let me just say, you make this man’s day so much better

Your presence is just so calming for him. You could just be standing there (which is heavily enforced in the kitchen), not doing anything, and he would still be fully relaxed

Definitely loves you being in the kitchen with him, and will find ways to invite you so that you guys can spend time together

“MC, the young master has a tea party planned for this afternoon, and I’m afraid I may need your assistance to help prepare.”

“But Barb, I thought you didn’t want me touching anything-”

“I don’t want you touching anything that can cause you harm. I can easily handle the labor, but I do have a task for you...”

Cue to you sitting perfectly still and taste testing his sweets

“Barb, are you sure that I’m helping you like this? I don’t want to be useless to you!”

“Nonsense, MC. This is perfect. I needed someone with an exceptional palette, and you’re just the right person for me.”

Just you and him, and his sweet creations. What more could he ask for?

Maybe being in a relationship with you, but he is very sure that it’s going to be happening in the near future...and he didn’t even have to use his powers to know that

He stares at you a lot. He can’t help it, he loves to just admire you!

Barbatos is the type of guy where he doesn’t have to rely on words to express his love. His love language is acts of service: packing you lunch and extra sweets every week, giving you recipes that he wouldn’t even share with Luke, and gifting you mini accessories that you can wear with your outfits!

He gave you this adorable three-legged crow holding a cupcake hairpin and you’ve been wearing it ever since

He tries to hide his blush everytime he sees you and now he has to work even harder because of the pin lmao

HAVING YOUR OWN TEA PARTIES WEEKLY

You both have a designated day and time where you don’t plan anything in order to have your own tea parties

No Diavolo, no noisy demon brothers, no other exchange students (sorry Luke). Just you and him, enjoying each other’s company and him basking in your glow

If someone did try to harm you, he would already know of it and properly disposes of the problem. Lord Diavolo can’t afford to have any issues interfering with the exchange program, and he can’t afford to have anything happen to you so...no harm no foul, right?

Please continue to do what you’re doing MC. Stare at him with your bright, doe eyes and give him that lively smile everytime. It makes his day go by much easier, especially since he knows that you’ll still be there, waiting for him with your own desserts and that smile reserved just for him

Simeon

Was convinced that you were an angel

Lowkey still convinced that you’re an angel

Really, you just look so...angelic

Wasn’t upset when you revealed that you were in fact human; he was happy because this meant that he could show you around the Celestial Realm!

Speaking of Celestial Realm, be prepared for Simeon to be your very own personal tour guide everytime. This could be your 50th time up there and he’ll still try to point new things out

“And over here is-”

“Michael’s favorite resting place, since the lilies always seem to bloom whenever he’s around,” you giggled. “I remember Simeon, you tell me this everytime we visit!”

He’s a tad embarrassed

“Forgive me, MC. It seems that I get so elated over the fact that you’re here with me, I tend to repeat some things over.”

“That’s okay! I still have fun with you everytime!”

Oh MC, you’re too adorable!

Which causes him to worry over you. While he knows that the brothers and Diavolo (along with Barbatos) wouldn’t dare cause you any distress, the same couldn’t be said for the other demons lurking around, both in and out of RAD

But not to fear, Simeon your friendly guardian angel is here!

I am so sorry for the rhyme lmao

He may not have been personally assigned to you, but that doesn’t mean he can just let anything happen to you! He’s only doing his heavenly duties in protecting you! He’s also being a good friend by watching over you too, his little lamb

He wouldn’t attack anyone, but if he made a complaint or a very serious concern to the right person (Lucifer or Diavolo), consider the problem handled

You have your own tea time as well, and Luke would join you sometimes. But, every now and then, Luke would have to finish some homework or study, or Barbatos would miraculously call for him at the castle, or if it was just too late and Luke just had to go to sleep, then it would just be you two. Sitting by the fireplace, discussing matters ranging from RAD to your life in the human world, drinking tea that you would take turns preparing

Not to mention the downright dainty little cakes you would bring. One time you brought him angel cakes and he found so lighthearted and precious that he requested you bring them everytime, just for him

May or may not base a character in his new story around you

Simeon wants to shield you from the horrors that are surrounding you both. You’re so pure, he just wants you safe. From the way that you would dress to the way that your eyes would just look so amazed and innocent at him, he just knows that he needs to watch over you, always. The brothers do get a little wary when they see how much time you do spend at Purgatory Hall, but they know that Simeon couldn’t possibly have feelings for you, and you were always so giddy after leaving there, they couldn’t bring themselves to say anything

And Simeon knew that he was starting to feel more than he should. He couldn’t profess his love for you now in risk of falling, but he can wait until you get your wings. Just imagining you in your cute little Ceslestial Realm outfit (which he hopes still mimicked your current style) with your very own beaming halo was enough to keep him waiting and to make sure that you stayed on the right path

He deemed that you were worth the wait

Luke

BFFs! BFFs!

When he first saw you he could just cry

Someone innocent like you got sent down here with these monsters?! He had to keep you safe!!!

Simeon thought you were angel and then realized that you were not; Luke thought you were an angel and refused to believe that you weren’t

You didn’t have it in you to burst his bubble so soon, so you just let him run with it until Simon broke the news

It was like telling a kid that Santa Claus wasn’t real; you can only imagine how Luke took the revelation

Not well from what Solomon told you. Simeon kept saying he just needs some time to process things, and you just felt so awful about the whole thing

Which lead to you bringing him so much sweets that it made Beel jealous and very upset

But we all know how Beel can be around food, so it wasn’t a huge surprise. He chased you around all day and you had to use your pact to get him to stop!

And you promised to make him double the sweets in he forgave you so all is well

Luke was still obviously sad, but he wasn’t going to stay sad forever. Especially not after you brought this many sweets just for him!

Lucifer was not a happy demon when Simeon arrived at the HoL’s doorstep with you groaning and clutching your stomach. And Solomon took so many pictures of Luke while he passed out from his sugar high that he dedicated a whole album in his phone to it

Favorite activity to do together: Baking! (Obviously)

Trading recipes, shopping for ingredients together, baking things for each other to try (where really it was just to have double the desserts)

When you two are in the kitchen together, no one else is allowed (except for Simeon, but only if he’s looking and not touching). It’s now MC and Luke time, everybody else is gonna have to wait!

Luke only wants you to do the the activities that he sees as harmless: which is everything that doesn’t include sharp items and anything else that can hurt you

“MC get away from that! That can seriously hurt you! Let me get it for you instead!

“Luke, honey, it’s just an oven it’s not my first time using one-”

Too late, he already took it out of your hands into his own, mitts already on

Speaking of oven mitts

You guys have matching aprons and mitts!!

Barbatos may be a little bit jealous, but he likes the bond that you two have. And he knows that Luke won’t be a romantic rival so he’s alright lol

Luke is your deemed protector/bodyguard, and he proudly wears the title since no one bothers you because of him (or so he thinks). Everyone makes fun of him calling him a chihuahua, but jokes on him, when Luke complains, he complains

Won’t take long for Simeon or even one of the brothers to pick up on his whines complaints if he thinks someone is bothering you

Luke believes that while he’s small, he can protect you and try to keep you free from danger. He may be young, but he sees himself as the older brother out of you both (even though it’s really you being the older sibling and him being the baby). Always looking out for you especially since you’re too fragile to be left alone!

You’re one of the only people that genuinely likes him and don’t make fun of him. You’re dear to him MC, please don’t ever change!

Also, he definitely talks to Michael about you all the time so excitedly and sends him sweets that you both made together. Michael is a proud dad at this point

Solomon

Knew you wasn’t a doll but loved to tease you about being one anyway

Was there a spell that can really turn you into a doll? You wouldn’t mind if he tried it out on you, right MC?

Don’t tempt him please because he WILL do it

“Tell me, MC. Hypothetically speaking, if I were to purchase-”

“No Solomon, you can’t shrink me down to fit me into a dollhouse, no matter how nice it sounds. Besides, I can’t bake in a dollhouse, the oven wouldn’t work!”

“I can fix that.”

You’re very amusing to him for some reason. Was it because of how doll-like you are? The fairytale way that you dressed? How you were still human and was able to live with seven of the most powerful demons and not die? Maybe it’s the way that you still radiated such positivity despite being in literal Hell?

Honestly all of the above

TEACHING HIM HOW TO COOK/BAKE

Poor Solomon doesn’t realize that his cooking isn’t...the best

And you took the best approach in helping him atleast cook something that looks edible

You didn’t say his cooking was disgusting like some people (literally everyone else), so he took that you giving him lessons was a date of sorts

He wasn’t complaining. Your time spent in the kitchen was scenes straight of a romcom (no matter how cheesy it sounds); his arms wrapped around your waist and dotting icing on your pretty nose

May or may not have licked some icing off of you at one point, will definitely do it again

Solomon is a very confident man, borderline arrogant (Oh who am I kidding he IS arrogant). So yes, while people may see you as an easy target, he’s here to remind them that you’re not. And that if they want to try, chances are they won’t be walking away in one piece

He’s powerful, too powerful in fact. He may not be the strongest physically, but if even the entire student council recognizes his knowledge and what he’s capable of, no one should be dumb enough to test him (keyword: try)

But he wouldn’t mind showing off if it’s for you

You’re one of the only beings to ever peak Solomon’s interest genuinely. Yes, he loved to tease and bug you whenever he pleased, but you also made him want to come around you more and more. He was drawn to you, and that doesn’t happen a lot with him (at least without ulterior motives)

*coughcough* making pacts *coughcough*

You were the only thing that made Solomon feel weak, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still The Greatest Sorcerer, but he couldn’t help but feel himself get weak in the knees when you gazed at him with so much sincerity. He loves it and loves you

Once your back in the human world, he’s going to be so selfish with you. I mean, he already kinda was now, but this time there won’t be any interruptions or distractions around to take your attention

Us humans have to stick together, and what better way to stick together than to be together, wouldn’t you say MC?

[kingandfireheart]

Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

[fggtwrmz]

✞ pretty little sinner ✞

Hihi!! Taz here with this accounts first ((technically second)) post! This ones a full fic so it’s v lengthy

warnings: dubcon, noncon is you squint, size kin, dirty talk, talk of breeding, oral, religious themes, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia, talk of corruption, did i mention degradation? cus we went a lil ham on degration, very rough in general, no like seriously kuroos hella mean here

please mind the warnings and leave if your uncomfortable with any listed!!

wc: 7.6k

The whole small town that you had lived in had known you and your parents as the perfect catholic family, and why would they have any reason to not believe that? After all, you were always such a good girl. The pride and joy of your parents’ lives, you did good in school, never complained about chores, and attended church every Sunday. That’s right, you were the perfect little catholic school girl. 

That's what drew you into him. 

You looked so innocent, so pure, so breakable, he just had to have you. 

And that cute little cross necklace you wore to show your faith? He just wanted to rip it off of you. Have you worship him instead. 

When you had spoken to him you didn’t imagine what he would actually be like. He’d put up such a sweet facade. But that's all it was. 

A facade. 

“What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this, Dollface?” Came out the velvety voice of the walking personification of temptation himself; Kuroo Tetsuro. 

You had heard about him through whispered rumors throughout the halls. He had an infamous reputation. But rumors were just that. Rumors.

So you humored him. 

“At….The corner store? I’m getting snacks, what does it look like?” You had to giggle. It was such a foolish question. So foolish that you didn’t know the weight that it had held. 

He had you hook, line, and sinker, you were just too innocent to realize. And he had been oh so sweet to accept your invitation to church on Sunday! Of course, you had to ask him, the house of God was as good a place to get to know someone as any. Much better than a dingy corner store anyway. 

His words were sweet and charming, even for just a small chat. There was a look on his face that made you suspect something, but the way he spoke pushed your suspicions. 

So when Sunday came and you saw him waiting for you at the door, in what appeared was his normal attire, you still gave him a big smile and waved him over to where you and your parents were. 

“Kuroo! You made it!” You wanted to embrace him in a hug, but you felt that would be a little too familiar for someone you had only met yesterday at a convenience store. “Of course I made it, I wouldn’t blow someone as cute as you off.” He spoke, caressing your cheek. 

Of course he wasn't nervous about being too familiar. 

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks, the affection catching you off guard. 

“Sorry if I seem a bit underdressed.”  He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though it seemed as if he didn’t care. His attire could be deemed inappropriate for a church setting. His ripped jeans, loose-fitting button-up shirt, Jordan Retros, contrasting with your pure white short sleeve blouse, frilly plaid green and black skirt, and shining black Mary Janes, and of course that shiny cross necklace that hung so prettily from your neck. 

You giggled, “No worries! I’m sure if you had shown up naked the lord wouldn’t turn you away.” 

And there you went again, going on about how the lord would love anyone, sinner or saint. He’d wondered how you would react if you knew the sins he had committed, had planned to commit. 

He wondered what filthy sins such a precious girl like you were hiding under that short little skirt of yours. 

He couldn’t wait to find out. 

You had taken your seat in the far back pews, opting to sit in between him and your parents. You’d been paying attention to your pastor, up until you felt a warm, calloused hand rest itself on your thigh. 

You looked up with a curious look, but Kuroo seemed to be more focused on the word of the holy father than you, so you relaxed at his touch. Keyword; seemed. 

And that wasn’t all he was planning to do, unfortunately for you. 

He rubbed up and down your upper thigh, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh between your skirt’s end and your thigh highs beginning, pushing your skirt just a little higher up your thighs to get more space. 

At that moment you thought you'd absolutely die if your parents looked over at the sinful act that was going on between you two, but when you looked over they were both too caught up in the pastor’s prayer to notice anything. 

His hand moved inward, causing your breath to hitch. His fingers practically brushed against your core, causing you to let out a gasp. It was loud enough for just him to hear but low enough to where your parents wouldn’t suspect anything. 

You placed a hand on his wrist, signaling it was not the time for this. He simply flashed a smirk, never looking down your way. His fingers made their way to your panties, gently rubbing against your folds, you ended up dampening the garments in the process. 

You sucked in your breath, now holding onto his wrist with a feverish grip, notifying him just how on edge you were. 

“Time for the communion! Everyone, form a line, children, teenagers, then adults.” Father announced.

You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding in. 

Your pastor had just saved you from eternal damnation. 

You and Kuroo walked in line, behind a couple of kids and in front of a few more teens. He rubbed down your shoulders and arms, sending chills down your spine. 

You held your hands behind your back as children took their crackers which were symbolic of the flesh of Jesus, their “wine” symbolic of the blood of Christ, and scattered back to their seats. 

When it was your turn, Kuroo made sure to keep a keen eye on the way your head tilted back ever so slightly when you had opened your mouth for the cracker to be placed on your tongue. 

He wondered what other situations you would be in such an arguably compromising position. 

You ate the cracker and took the small, plastic shot glass-like cup with you back to your seat. 

“Nah,” Kuroo shook his head, declining the offer of the cracker, and took the cup, downing it and throwing it in the small trash bin next to the pastor, walking back to his seat, not looking back. 

He sat back down next to you, his hands in his pockets this time. You stared ahead, waiting for anything to happen, the tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

Suddenly, he leaned down to your ear, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. “By the way, you get so fucking wet. It’d be pathetic if it weren't so adorable.” He hummed, sending heat straight to your core. 

You gasped at his words, looking up at him as he leaned back up. “Kuroo!” You whispered. “You shouldn’t curse in the house of the lord!” 

He looked down at you and chuckled slightly. 

“Oh princess, if it were just us here I’d do so much worse.” He teased, making your eyes widen. Heat rushed over your body, causing you to break eye contact with him. His gaze became too much to bear. 

Your parents and pastor had warned you of temptation before, but you had always thought it would be easy to overcome. You would have never thought that it could be something like this. His words and gentle touches felt like too much yet not enough all at the same time. 

You wanted it all to stop, but yet you wanted to beg for more. 

But you had to keep your composure, God's eyes were on you, you reminded yourself. 

But all you could feel was his eyes on. They were fixated on you. The thought alone of that insatiable look in his eye made your thighs pressed together and your throat run dry. It all made your head reel. 

And just like that, it was over. 

You had been so lost in thought that it took Kuroo shaking you to make you notice everyone getting up and gathering outside for the weekly catch-ups that turned, “just a few minutes dear, and then I swear we’ll leave,” into 30 minutes and plans to babysit Mrs. Johnson's grandsons next weekend. 

“Is it time to go?” Kuroo asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Only the adults are leaving, the teenagers and children stay for Sunday school, that’s why I’m wearing this outfit.” You whispered to him. 

He went silent until he proposed an idea that caught you way off guard. “We should go back to my place for bible study, I might be able to show you a different type of God.” 

Your eyebrows raised at the sudden invitation, you didn’t know what he meant by that, but you know it’d be rude to decline such an offer since he had come to Sunday worship despite his belief in this “other type of god”. 

Before you could answer he tapped your mother’s shoulder, catching the attention of both of your parents. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can I speak to you for a second?” He asked politely. Your parents said their goodbyes to Sister Elise and stepped away with you and Kuroo. “Yes?” Came the voice of your mother. 

“Would it be alright if me and your sweet daughter here, a real angel if I do say so, could go back to mine so we can go over the Psalms? I would offer to do it over the phone but the lord’s word can only be understood in person.” It’s like he had the good Christian boy next door role down pact. 

Your parents looked at each other worriedly. “I don’t know, will there be a guardian to watch over you two?” Your father asked. “Yes sir, my fathers at work, but my mother will be there. I promise I’ll have her home at a reasonable time.” He promised.

Oh yeah, he has this little act down to the T, not like you could see through it though. You were so naive and thought that you could bring out the good in him with the help of good. How foolish. 

Your father looked at his watch. “It's five now, so have her home no later than eight. Understood?” “Crystal clear, thank you, sir. Shall we get going?” He asked you, a perfect and pure smile plastered on his face. 

He was too perfect, your parents already adored him. 

Too bad it was only to get in your pants. 

———

You were on his bed. His room smelled of pinewood and lavender. You drowned in the scent, loving every second of it. 

His room was nothing like yours, he had deep red walls, wooden floors, and everything looked to be either black or red, barely any other colors being seen other than the clothes in his closet, and some other things you couldn’t identify, but he shut it before you could get a good look. 

“Sorry if my room is a bit dirty, I didn’t think about cleaning up before inviting you.” He apologized, closing the curtains. 

You loved the way he spoke, it was like his words were coated with chocolate. His luscious and velvety voice made you think things, things the lord would frown upon. 

“No worries! Nobody’s perfect.” You kindly reassured him with a polite smile. 

He’d think differently, you were a goddess in his eyes. Every part of you, even everything he couldn’t see, not that he’d be in the dark for much longer. 

He chuckled, his eyes wandering down your figure, undressing you with his eyes, as you sat innocently on his bed waiting for whatever he might do. 

“So where’s your mom?” You asked innocently, catching him off guard. “What?” “You said your mom was here, where is she? I didn’t see her when we walked in.” 

He’d already forgotten. Typical. 

“Oh, she’s probably taking a nap.” He lied with ease. 

He didn’t think he'd be able to forgive himself if he was in the presence of his mother while thinking about such ungodly things. He planned to defile you, and he wanted to be the only one who even got close to experiencing you in such a state.  

“Oh well-uhm...I’ll be sure to be quiet so I don’t disturb her.” 

He held in a chuckle. There was no way that you would be quiet, no way you could be quiet when he got his way.

“So…. While I have no real interest in changing faiths, I have to ask about the god that you worship.” 

He had you right where he wanted you. 

He hovered over your frame at the edge of the bed, him standing and towering over you. He’d lifted your chin to look up at him with the tips of his fingers and said in a delightfully sinful tone, 

“Oh baby,” He leaned in close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “I’m the new god, and you're gonna worship me like I’m your true creator.” 

You felt yourself shrink, yes at the way he was menacingly towering over you, but at the way he describes his God—no, himself. 

“You-you’re...the god you were talking about?” You stammered, your hands on his chest, trying to make some distance between you and his dominating presence. 

Sadly to no avail. 

“Mhm, and you’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understood?” 

 "Y-yes, sir." 

"Awe look at you, using your manners without me having to tell you. Keep that up and you just might get a reward." He cooed.

You felt a familiar heat pool at the pit of you. 

What was he going to do to you? What were these sudden temptations? And most importantly why did you want more. 

This was god testing you, and you were failing miserably. 

You wanted so badly to give in to your desires. To leave behind the life of that sweet innocent angel that everyone once knew, you wanted to give yourself wholly to your new one and only savior. 

You were really doing this. 

You were abandoning the only faith you’d ever known for some stranger. 

For all you know he could be a demon from hell himself, here to stray you away from the path the lord had originally sent you to. No, he couldn’t be a demon. He was so sweet when the two of you had first met, and he was so polite when addressing your parents. 

You felt like Eve, being tempted with such a delicious specimen by the devil himself. So when he pushed his lips against yours harshly, like Eve, you gave in. 

His lips molded perfectly against yours. Your tongues were dancing in an elegant waltz that could only be described as heavenly. His lips tasted so sweet on yours. If this was the forbidden fruit you would happily taste it again and again. 

His hands roamed your backside, hiking your skirt up so he could get a feel of your cotton panties. Your breathing sped, feeling him caress your clad ass. You’d always been told to never let anyone touch you like this unless you’re married, but I guess your god was the only exception. 

That’s right. Kuroo was god now, and you had to let him do whatever you want.

Suddenly, he roughly pulled your skirt off, throwing it behind him. You whimpered, afraid he might’ve ripped your skirt. 

Feeling his rough hands run up your sides and into your shirt, he stopped kissing you to look down, causing you to let out a whine, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“Awe baby, don’t look so sad, I’ll get your mouth back to work real soon.” He whispered, trying to unbutton your shirt. Trying. 

You could tell he was getting frustrated at how the buttons wouldn’t come undone. 

He groaned loudly, grabbing an open hole of your blouse and ripping it open, making the buttons of your shirt fly everywhere. You gasped, whining because now you didn’t have anything to come home in. 

“Kuroo! How am I supposed to go home without a shirt?” You whined, hearing him chuckle soon after. 

“Hush, you’ll be fine don’t worry, you won’t be needing it anytime soon.” Kuroo reassured with a smirk.

He unclipped your bra and threw it behind him, looking down hungrily at your tits, admiring how perfect they were. He cupped one of them and proceeded to place the other in his mouth. You let out a soft moan, awakening something fierce in him. 

“Oh fuck, I can’t wait to hear more of those sweet sounds, princess. That’s right, let it all out for me baby.” 

He kissed up your chest and to your neck, peppering kisses and bite marks on you. Claiming you. 

He bit down on a certain spot, making you moan out, your fingers getting intertwined with the back of his hair. Your legs clung onto his waist as he abused the spot with his mouth, leaving dark hickeys. 

Your moans became needier when he brought his knee up to your cunt, grinding it right against your clit, making you wetter by the second. 

You felt high on ecstasy, the pleasure becoming heavenly, but what made everything pure bliss was his words. 

The way he’d call you his baby, his princess in between kisses, and the best of all, his little sinner. 

Being called his sinner made you feel a different type of feeling. It felt wrong, you could feel the heavens looking down on you in disappointment with each response you gave him. 

Yes, you’d be giving up your oath to stay pure until marriage, but if it’s your god taking your virginity, what harm could be done?

When he lifted up off you, you were snapped from your pleasure. 

He was looking down at your body and you resting upwards on your elbows, wondering why he’d left. 

“Get on your knees.” It wasn't a request. It was an order. One that you, of course, didn’t even think to disobey. 

So there you sat. All pretty and kneeling in front of him as if he was an alter. 

 You looked like such a perfect slut in his eyes. Who knew that such an innocent little virgin could look like the perfect whore. 

He wouldn’t tell you that though. No, he wanted to warm you up first. Call you such sweet names, make you feel like his precious baby girl and then let you know just how much of a dirty slut he thought you were.

Knew you were. 

All you needed was a push in the right direction. And he would provide that push. 

“Now you want to know how to appease your god, don’t you?” 

You nodded from in between his legs enthusiastically. 

“Well, first, you have to atone for your sins. Now how would we go about doing that?” 

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know what to say. 

“C’mon baby, be a good girl and use your words. How would you atone for your sins? Think about the position you're in before you answer.” 

You looked down at your legs which were folded underneath you and looked back up at him. 

“P-Prayer?” 

He couldn’t help but laugh at your innocence. “Oh princess, so innocent even in such a vulgar position baby. You’re gonna atone for your sins by sucking me off. You don't want me to be mad, do you?” 

Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even understand what sins you had even committed, but if Kuroo says you’ve sinned, you'll let him do anything to make you holy again. 

He stood up and unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock and waving it teasingly over you. 

“Now stick out your tongue.” 

You did as you were told, eyes never leaving his cock. It was the only one you’d ever seen, and the only one you ever wanted to see. It was a good 7 or 8 inches and about 4 inches wide in girth. 

It had the drool pooling at the bottom of your tongue before falling on your thigh high socks. It felt every bit as sinful as it looked and it had your panties soaked. You'd grinded against yourself for some sort of friction. 

“Awe, so pretty for me, now listen to me, you're gonna take everything I give you, ok princess?” 

You nodded, feeling as if your voice would betray if you tried to speak. 

“What’d I say about using your words? Such a shame, you were being so good earlier.” 

“Sorry sir, please don’t be mad, I promise I’ll-I'll take it all. I'll be so good for you.” The words were coming out faster than you could control. If someone would have told you that you would be in that predicament about a week ago you would have laughed in their face. But here you were, begging for him to do something, anything. 

You sounded absolutely brain dead and he loved it. 

“Ah, yeah that’s it, that’s my good girl.” He said grabbing you by your hair and gently guiding you down his shaft. 

“Fuck baby, ‘gonna train this throat so well you’ll be ready to worship this cock with your mouth anytime of any day.” He growled, lowering your head down faster, soon hearing you gag over his length. You felt tears prick your eyes as he finally thrusted his full length in your mouth, going well past your limits. 

He lets out a dark chuckle, suddenly being cut off by a throaty moan. 

“Ah f-fuck princess you’re being such a good girl, now remember to breathe through your nose.” He reminded you, resulting in you looking up at him and nodding, letting him know you understood. 

Your parents would disown you if they knew what you were doing. Your pastor and priest wouldn’t even think of speaking to you. You’d only have Kuroo, but that doesn’t sound too bad. After all, you had devoted your life to your religion in the past, so what would be so different now? You’d just be able to indulge in such fine luxuries as getting facefucked after church. 

He put his other hand on your head, roughly shoving your head down, matching the bucking upwards of his hips. The action erupted a loud groan from him, throwing his head back. 

You could feel him all the way down your throat. 

“Oh yeah, that’s my good girl, fucking hell baby girl,” he moaned, you could feel his thrusting start to get uneven, your throat not having anymore time to adjust to his size and abuse. 

His pace was absolutely brutal but you sat there, taking everything he gave you.

On the inside you were smiling, happy to please your god, you felt so proud of yourself for making him feel good. Being his good little girl. His obedient little worshipper. 

Your eyes became watery, the way he roughly thrusted into your mouth made your throat hurt, which made your eyes water. 

He bit his lip, lowering the sound of the grunt he let out. “Mmf, baby you look so pretty right now, such a pretty fucking princess for me.” He grunted. 

You didn’t feel pretty, though. Your face was covered in tears, sweat, makeup, and ran down mascara. Your hair was under Kuroo’s grip, messily overlapping his hands. Strings of drool were hanging from your plump lips onto your thighs, not to mention your soaked panties. 

Kuroo on the other hand looked heaven sent. Hair messily askew and face tinted slightly red. Biting his lip while sweat slid down his forehead. He looked like he was graced by God.

He looked like he was graced by God.

You felt ashamed at how wet you got by just looking at him, but fuck was he sexy. 

He shoved your head down quicker and quicker, thrust harder into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck baby you’re gonna-you’re gonna make me—” His groans became more and more breathy, and his working became more and more sloppy, until you felt a warm, thick, sticky liquid coat the insides of your mouth. 

The foreign substance tasted bitter and you wanted to spit it—

“Ah ah,” he sang, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him. 

You looked disgusting. He wanted to see you like this more often.

 “Be good and swallow for me, baby girl.” 

You gulped down the liquid, feeling it still in your throat, but it didn’t bother you enough to where you couldn’t breath. 

“Di-did I do good, sir?” You sounded absolutely broken, and it was like music to his ears. 

“You did amazing, I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard. Does your face feel alright?” He cooed, tucking himself back into his pants. 

“My jaw hurts, and so does my throat, but I’m glad I got to make you feel good.” 

Kuroo smirked, admiring what he molded you into. Such a dedicated disciple, you deserve an award. “Now it’s your turn. Come on, hop up on the bed for me,” he commanded, patting the spot on his bed beside him. 

You did so eagerly, not wanting to break your obedience streak. You sat on your feet, your hands resting on each of your thighs, smiling with the light shining beautifully in your eyes. 

Even as the mascara ran down your cheek, you looked so beautiful to him. 

“Lay down.” He softly said. You obeyed, as usual, keeping your legs closed in the air. You had no idea what he was thinking of doing. 

“Spread them for me, babes.” He commanded. You were confused, why did he want your legs spread? 

“Wait, why?” You asked innocently. His eyebrows furrowed.

 “Because I said so. You’re not really denying the word of your lord, are you?”

Of course you didn’t. You were completely devoted to him, so without further hesitation you spread your legs. He pulled your drenched panties up off you and threw them somewhere in the room. 

He ducked himself inbetween your thighs and planted your thighs on the side of his head with a secure grip. 

“W-Wait!” You squeaked out. 

“What’s wrong baby? You’ve been such a good girl, and good girls deserve rewards now don’t they?”  He acts like this is for you, when in all honesty it’s all been for him. This whole time he’s only been fulfilling his desires of turning you from a sweet and innocent princess into a filthy fucked out whore and he knows this will only speed the process a bit, you just so happen to be getting some pleasure out of it. 

“Yeah I gue- Ah!” A moan cut you off when you felt him lick up your wet folds, moaning your legs jolt up and your back arch. 

He plunged his tongue into you, his thick tongue thrusts into you, making your moans come out in squeaks. You felt absolutely amazing already. 

His tongue circled around your clit, pushing his tongue in and out of you in patterns; leaving his tongue in, out, for a second, then in again going back to sucking and circling.

Your moans became higher and breathier each time his tongue circled your clit, it drove him absolutely crazy.

He was...spelling something? You could feel it as he kept making the same trails around your cunt. 

K,

U,

R,

O,

O. 

Kuroo. 

“Mmph, Kuroo, more please…” You moaned tugging at his hair. He slid his thumb up your thigh, rubbing your clit as he pushed his tongue deeper in you, prodding your sweet spot.

The sudden action made you cry out in pleasure, tugging at his hair. He moaned from under you at the sudden mix of pain and pleasure on his scalp.

Kuroo stuck his tongue in and out of you, continuing to rub your clit with his thumb. You felt a tingling sensation grow low in your stomach, making your grip tighten on Kuroo’s hair and while your other frantically grabbed at his sheets, the foreign feeling traveling through your entire being. 

You moaned his name, wanting to ask him what the sensation was, but your mind only focused on him, making barely anything come out other than moans and his name. 

His fingers sped up as his tongue explored your walls. The sensation made you tighten, sending chills through your core as the pressure became too much to process alone.

Your legs twitched as your orgasm rocked through you, your eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly.

All that you could think of in that moment was Kuroo. KurooKurooKurooKuroo. It was a repeating mantra in your mind.

Your walls tightened around Kuroo’s tongue, a moan squeaking from your throat. Your grip tightened as you came, covering his tongue. You came from your high slowly, allowing you to let out a satisfied sigh. 

You smiled peacefully as he hungrily lapped at your clit, making sure not to let a single drop of your cum slip from his tongue. 

As he pulled out his fingers and lifted up from your body, you relaxed, your legs falling and your hand bringing itself to rest upon your stomach. 

He came up and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, making sure you could taste yourself on his tongue. You tried pushing him away, not liking the taste of yourself, but he slapped your thigh, taking your hands and holding both of them above your head. 

You whimpered squirming, uncomfortable with him holding you down. You shook your head in the kiss, trying to get away, but he only took this as an invitation to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body temperature rise as he rocked against you, grinding against your thigh. The foreign feeling felt weird, but knowing you were giving him pleasure did cloud your mind with a hazy fog. 

He parted ways from the kiss and looked down on you. 

You looked so fucked out, and the real fun hadn’t even started yet. He wondered how you would be able to take him all the way, the thought of you not being able to handle all of him snuck its way  into his mind and making him groan. 

You would look so cute crying that it was all too big, how it wouldn’t fit. The money he’d pay to see that, he’d bow down and pray to any god to see that image and keep it in his mind forever. 

He leaned up and loomed over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. His eyes were dark with lust. It struck a tinge of fear in you. 

He unzipped his pants, pulling his cock out, and spread your legs once more.

Leaning down, he whispered in your ear. "Do you think you're worthy enough for my cock princess?" 

"Huh!?" 

"Awe, what did you think was gonna happen sweetheart? You thought it'd be that easy to make up for your sins—"

"But you said—" you felt tears prick your eyes. You didn't think you were ready for such a big step before marriage. You two weren't even dating!

"But you said—" He mocked in a whiny voice. "I know what I said, and now I'm saying," he pulled you by the cross on your necklace. 

"That I'm gonna fuck you until you’re too fucked out to even think about anything else. I'll turn you into such a pretty whore that you'll feel dirty even thinking about stepping foot in that church. Do you understand slut?"

Whore? Slut? Where was this coming from? He’d been so nice to you. You wouldn’t think he’d call you such degrading names. It was like a switch had been flipped inside him. 

You looked down at his size, causing you to whimper in fear for your small body. 

Kuroo squeezed your cheeks in one hand roughly, making you whine, your eyes watering. “Use your words, you dumb bitch. Do you or do you not understand what I’m saying?” He repeated. 

You nodded. “I-I understa-stand.” You hiccuped, hugging your arms.

You we’re borderline sobbing at this point. This wasn’t the smooth and sweet guy who chatted you up in the convenience store. This wasn’t the sweet christian boy your parents knew. This man was Lucifer himself.

And now, your new lord and saviour. 

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You should have never given him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was right about him. He was just a mean playboy jerk who treated women like shi-

“Awe don’t cry sweetheart. You were doing so good just a minute ago.” His sweet and comforting tone snapped you from your thoughts, and you felt your mind become just a bit less panicked about the whole situation. “Although, you do look awfully pretty when you cry… hm… How bout this; I’ll just make you feel so good to where your instant reaction is to cry. That way I get to see that cute little tear-stained face, and you get to have my expert cock. How does that sound, princess?” 

You nodded, feeling like if you opened your mouth only sobs would come out. 

“What did I say about your words?” He quickly chastised. 

“S-Sorry. Yes sir I-I’d like that…” 

“That's a good girl,” The praise made your chest bubble with joy. You were happy that you could be seen as good in his eyes after all the disgusting things he had just called you. 

“Now here’s the worst part.” 

And that was all the warning you got before he rammed his cock into you. It was the worst pain that you had ever felt. The agonizing stretch, the unfamiliar feeling of being so full, it all was too painful to bear. So you did exactly what he planned and cried. 

He thought of going slow, he really did, but then he wouldn’t be able to see you and those absolutely gorgeous tear streaks. 

“Kuroo, it hurts! It’s too much! Take it out please!” You sobbed out. 

He laughed at you. “Aww poor baby, is it too much?” 

“Good.” He said with another slam of his hips. “You seem—fuck— to forget what we’re—oh god your so fucking tight—doing this for. You were acting like a bitch in church. In the house of your—shit—precious lord.” He said the last point in a mocking tone. “And now you're just paying for your sins to your new god.” He breathed out while continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace. 

You could only cry harder as he fucked you with such vigor. The stretch was so painful and with every rough thrust he hit your cervix dead on. It was absolute torture. 

So you 're confused as to why the pain slowly subsided and turned to pleasure. Were you… enjoying this? No. There was no way. You didn’t even get a real say in what was happening. So why we’re tiny gasps coming out faster than you could stop them? And why did your hips start to move down to match his thrusts. 

“How do you thi-think your parents would react to your sinful actions right now? Huh, you dumb slut? Bet they’d be so disappointed to see that their precious little girl is nothing but a pretty little sinner huh? Say it! Fuck- Say you’re a sinner, and make sure the neighbors can hear you say it.” 

“B-but your mom..!” 

“You actually believed that?” He laughed. His laughing consisted of grunts and groans, making his laughing time out. “You’re such a fucking dumbass, you know that? I wouldn’t be touching your disgusting ass if my mother was home.” He growled, making more tears stream down your face. 

You whined, covering your face because of the absurd amount of embarrassment you felt. 

“Oh no no no, don’t cover your beautiful face now!” He grunted, taking both of your wrists and holding them above your head. 

With only the bottom half of his cock fucking into you, his thrusts were long and deep, making sure you felt it in your stomach. Your eyes rolled back with each agonizingly painful and deep thrust, your nails ripping off your skins from balling your fists. 

“Oh fuckkkk you're so tight for me.” Kuroo groaned. ”How’s such a slut like you got such a tight pussy?” 

It was obvious that the question was rhetorical as he started to slow his thrusts but put more force behind them, bruising your cervix. All you could let out were little “ah ah ah ahhhhhhs”. 

He slowly stopped, looking down at your trembling body. He let out a breathy groan, shaking his head and biting his lip. 

He let go of one of your wrists and grabbed hold of your hand, bringing it down to your stomach. 

“Princess, do you feel that?” He asked, rubbing your hand over a bump on your stomach. You looked down with him, seeing a slight bump stand with attention below your belly button, making your eyes widen and your breath quicken. 

“Ka-ka-Kuroo! What is that?!” You frantically questioned. 

He looked up at you with the most agrivated, most dumb founded look on his face. “What do you mean, ‘what’s that’?! That’s me, dollface.” He spat, making you jump. “Y-you..?” 

He groaned, slamming into you again, causing you to scream out again. “Ya’ see that moving in your stomach? That’s me, fucking deep into your tight tight pussy.” He growled. You look down again, seeing the bulge in your stomach move with each sharp thrust Kuroo sent through you. 

It made your head feel fuzzy. 

Your body started adjusting to his size, finally. You lifted your legs to cling onto the side of his waist, but they quickly fell spread for him. Your arms also stopped struggling, relaxing under his grip. Your eyes slowly rolled to the back of your head. With each animalistic thrust of his hips you could feel the bed shake. You could barely hear the frame hit the wall over the sound of your high whines and moans and his low groans filling your ear. But you could still faintly hear it, reminding of how rough he was getting. 

“Alright princess now open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” He commanded from over you. 

You opened your mouth and leaned your head back being sure to lol your tongue out.

You felt a cold liquid settle near the tip of your tongue, it was Kuroo’s spit. He’d let it fall like a fountain. Licking his lips when he’d finished. 

“Now swallow like a good girl.”

You closed your mouth and gulped. Letting the spit slide down your tongue. It should have grossed you out, but instead it made your eyes roll back. 

“Aww, look at you, all pretty and fucked out.” he shrugged, thrusting upwards into you, hitting a spot that made you scream out in ecstasy. 

“Kuroo, right there! Fuck, Kuroo yes right there!!” You moaned, arching your back and throwing your head back. 

That was the first time you cursed. Ever. 

“Such a dirty vocabulary you’re discovering! I’m such a good influence on you, your parents would be so proud.” He sarcastically exclaimed in a low and gravelly voice. 

Your parents. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you completely forgot all about them, and the time limit they'd set for you. You were sure you’d past it, it was fairly dark outside. 

You whined, feeling more tears of disappointment roll down the side of your face. “Do-don’t talk about them right now…Ah-I’m gonna-Kuroo fuck p-please!”

He only thrusted harder faster. “Awe baby, do you think you're the one in control? That’s so cute.” He pulled you by your necklace for the second time that night. “You’re atoning for your sins, and I’m using your body for my own pleasure. So you’re gonna sit back, and make sure the only thing that comes out of that pretty. Little. Mouth,” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust. “Are those pretty. Little. Moans. You got that princess?” 

“Y-yes sir. I’m so sorry sir.” 

“Awe look at my baby! Using her words like a good girl!” He deeply cooed. 

You bit your lip, holding back the moan you desperately wanted to let out, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your voice. He noticed and started to pound faster. You couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck! Kuroo! Ple-ase! Fuck you’re so good. Sosososo good. Pleeeeease!” 

“Listen to you! You sound downright pathetic!” He laughed at you. It felt humiliating, but you felt yourself getting wetter from the whole situation. The intensity, the humiliation, Kuroo’s groans, they all were filling up your senses, and you could feel yourself nearing your climax. 

“Look at you, you’re getting tighter. How much of a- fuuuuck how is it possible that your tighter- slut are you? You're really getting off to me calling you a slut? You like that? Huh? Go on, answer me whore.”  

“Yes! Yes Kuroo! I’m your whore! Fuuuuuckkkk!” Your moans were high and breathy. 

He pulled you by your necklace one again and snatched it clean off of you. 

You gasped, snapping out of your lustful trance. “Kuroo!!! My dad gave me that!!” You cried. 

“I don’t give a fuck, I’m your god now, you don’t need a stupid cross, I’ll let everyone know you’re mine.” He huffed, dangling it in front of you, before throwing it out his window. 

The window. The window! 

 “K-Kuroo, how long has that be-been open?” You asked. 

He groaned, slowing down his thrust. “The window? It’s been open since this morning.” He shrugged, fucking into you sloppier and sloppier. 

You felt embarrassed, heat rushing over your being as you held onto Kuroo to hide your face. “O-oh…” you moaned, scrunching your eyebrows together in embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong baby? Are you embarrassed? Are you embarrassed that my whole neighborhood can hear how bitchy, and pathetic you sound? Fuck- Good, fucking cry about it like the stupid bitch you are.” 

Each insult brought you closer to that edge. You forgot all about your previous embarrassment and basked in the bliss of Kuroo’s rough thrusts. 

“Holy shit- Did you get tighter from me reminding you of how much of a—shiiiiiitttt—of a fucking slut you are?” His voice sounded so breathy. You could feel him twitching inside of you. 

And then the dam broke. You could feel your orgasm sparking through you like electricity. 

“Kuroo! Kuroo! Im cumm- Im cumming! Oh Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! You're so good!”

He revelled in the profanities spilling from your mouth, knowing that before this you probably would have never thought about saying such vile things. 

“Oh thats right baby who’s making you cum on his cock like a dumb bitch in heat? Who’s your god? C’mon, say it, princess.” 

“You! Shit! You're my god! Oh please- It’s too much! It's- It’s too much!” 

He laughed at you. “How many fucking—Fuck baby you feel so good—How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t- Shit- This isn’t for you.” The last part came out as a dark growl. 

“Y-Yes sir! I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah that's a good girl, oh you're such a good slut for me. Shutting up and just taking it. Yeahhh that's a good fucking whore. You want your god to cum inside you? Breed you and fill you up so nice? That what you want princess?” 

Your eyes widened. Nononono he couldn’t! He had to pull out! 

“N-No...Please...” Your voice sounded so weak and tiny. 

“Oh no baby, that was rhetorical. You're gonna sit back and let me breed this little pussy like a good girl who stays in her place, because surely- fuck- you remember your place and wouldn’t talk back, now would you?”

You knew it was useless to deny him. You don’t even know why you tried. 

After a few more thrust there was a particularly hard one. The force of fit knocked you back a bit, but he pulled you back by your thighs so he would stay fully buried inside of you. 

Suddenly you felt nothing but warmth filling you. He was cumming inside you. You could feel him shooting spurt after spurt. You had never felt so full, his thick cock splitting you accompanied by his come pushed you to another orgasm. Your legs shot up and you let out a loud whiny moan. 

“Oh god! Oh fuck! You feel so good filling me up Kuroo- Fuck!” 

“Aww you came again from me cumming in you? What happened to you not wanting it?” He teased. You couldn’t respond, you still hadn’t come down from your high. 

_________

You woke up in an unfamiliar location, dark red walls and black sheets were unlike your pastel blue walls and baby pink sheets. You panicked, until memories of your earlier actions came back to you. You weren't completely calm though, you were sure you definitely passed your curfew and Kuroo was nowhere to be found. 

“Kuroo! I need to get home like— now!” 

He entered the room and laughed. “Oh calm down you big baby, I called your folks and said you’d passed out cause you were so tired. Took some convincing, but they’re fine with you spending the night here.”

You sighed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Speaking of,” He came closer to you. “You down for round two?” 

You felt warmth flood your face and threw a pillow at him. “You pervert!” 

“How am I the pervert when you're the one naked in my bed?” 

He was right, you did feel a cold breeze brush against your cold body as you pulled the covers up. 

“Well then where are my clothes?” 

He winced, itching the back of his neck. “Ya’ see...your skirt is still ripped, but I put your underwear and skirt in the wash. You could wear something of mine though!"

[stardustincarnate]

CONFESSION // Mello x Reader

word count : 4016 genre : fluff a/n : i haven’t gotten over my writer’s block, so yes -- here i am, once again posting old fics from my wattpad account. 

Today is the day.

After contemplating about it for a couple of weeks and confiding it to his best pal, Matt, Mello has finally decided to confess his feelings for you tonight, exploiting the situation where you two will normally go riding on the city streets during Friday midnights such as this one.

To say the least, he isn't the best in this kind of thing— love, that is. Before, all he could think about was one thing which was proving that he's better than Near, and besides, no one really piqued his interest. But then the enigma that you are came.

You can be cunningly evil at times if you want to. You'll often say to the ones you've fooled or to the other mafia members, "It's nothing personal, it's just business." You also have a harsh mouth as he would like to describe. Anything that comes out of it may sound derisive or blatant, but it's basically the truth. You don't sugarcoat things— you don't even try to. Although sometimes you seem to make the truth more cruel than it really is, which makes you look too intimidating for the others. They're only thankful that you don't talk very often and only will if you have something conducive to say.

But that's not all that you are. Mello could feel it, so he grew curious of you. Just a mere speck of curiosity, but then it grew. He wanted to talk to you, but then he asked himself what's the point of doing so, thus he disregarded the idea. That's why you developed a friendship with Matt, who you think is really fun to be with, first. Then as your friendship grew, he thought of introducing you to Mello, and that's when it began. To be frank the beginning of your friendship wasn't easy, and to think that friendship only started growing not until you celebrated a year and a half of being with the mafia.

It was a long process, but in the end, it was worth the wait. Day by day he started lowering the walls he barricaded himself with, and same as you. He became really outgoing and deep down truly caring as your friend, like he is with Matt, because after all you two are the only family he has. And— let's not forget his strange addiction with chocolates! And, well, you like it.

You like him.

Mello knows this as well. He knows that his feelings are reciprocated and he's happy with that. But the question is, who's going to make the first move? Certainly not you. Between fighting the devil and confessing your feelings for someone, you'd probably choose the former. You don't seem like the kind of person who will make the first move. He as well is like that.

And that leads us to his acquiescence of doing it instead. Did he have a choice? Well, maybe, if one considers you doing it instead, but that will definitely take several months, or even years, from now. And he can't wait that long! What if you suddenly start to develop feelings for another person? He can't lose you, you that is just in front of his eyes, one step away from him. He needs to grab the opportunity while it still is there.

Because with you, he feels happy and contented. And for the first time he finally feels like he is number one.

And he really is, in your heart.

"Wooh!"

Matt exclaims after slamming the door, causing Mello to jolt upwards from his reverie. "You know I almost got caught by another mem!"

"Is it done?"

"Of course."

"Hm. You sure this suggestion is for the better? You know how scary that woman can be when she's mad. Especially after finding out that her tires have been flattened."

"Didn't you say you wanted something more romantic tonight? So, I thought of flattening her tires so she can't use her own scooter, that way she can ride with you."

"Uh-uh... Is it romantic though?"

"You two will be close enough. And—no perverted thoughts—she gets to wrap her arms around you while riding. If that's not romantic, I literally don't know what is."

"I'm having qualms about this one."

"What? I'm just as clueless as you are when it comes to romance. I'm doing my best here to help you ya know?"

"I know, I know. Sorry."

"It's your fault you fell in love with her." Matt jests, chuckling. But he immediately behaves himself when he sees that deadly glare of his friend. "Hey! I was only kidding! Don't look at me like that, Mels. You're creeping me out."

"Hah. But I guess you're right. My fault. And great— now I'm having more doubts than before and feeling.. tentative."

"The almighty Mello is nervous? Wow. I never thought I'd live to see this day!"

"Say one more word and I'll make sure it's the last you'll ever emit."

"HE-HE-HEY! Now you're just being belligerent. Don't worry. I'm sure you two will come back here as a couple. Swear it on my life. So stop doubting yourself. And just.. don't act awkward and dorky when confessing towards your little devil."

"Just how am I supposed to do that?"

"I don't know. Just don't."

Mello heaves a sigh. "Sometimes I do wonder if you're really the smart Matt they used to talk about back in the orphanage."

Matt only grins. He's about to reply, but then they both hear footsteps—angry footsteps—coming closer.

"Oh, speaking of the devil. Here she comes. In three.. two.. one.."

With that, you kick the door open and look around. You look like you're about to whip someone's ass and the men can almost laugh at your reaction knowing the reason behind it. You give them a steely look when they unknowingly start to curve their lips to a grin. They quickly change their reaction.

"This has gotta be one of the worse days of my life!" You exclaim as you slump on the sofa beside Mello. "I can't go with you. I've got a flat tire, and I have no idea why. Someone must've done it.."

"Who would do such a terrible thing? Especially to you, the devil no one else even bothers to approach?" Mello momentarily glances at Matt before taking a bite of his chocolate, which you then steals from his grip. "But don't worry, I gotcha. You can ride me... with me I mean! You can ride with me, NOT RIDE ME—good Lord I'm sorry."

'Aha, and there goes Matt's reminder that I shouldn't act awkward.' He looks away with a blush.

"I think [Y/N] is okay with either of that—"

You raise an eyebrow at Matt. "Oh, you mean you Mathematics. You can ride him all you want so don't be shy and put my name in your shoes."

"That's not—!"

"—ANYWAYS, Willy Wonka, you sure you okay with me riding with you? You won't mind?"

"Jesus, stop calling me that! And yes. You're my friend so I won't mind."

"Thanks mate!" To his surprise, you hug him from the side. And you are hugging him a little too much. "You know I've always wanted to ride your motor. It looks cooler than mine."

"Ah.. well— you're squeezing me a bit too much.. don't you think?"

You pull away and snicker. "Sorry. You're like a marshmallow that I just want to squeeze sometimes."

"EHEM. Pardon me, will you? I need to go to the restroom."

Matt stands up, thinking that his job here as cupid is done—or not quite yet. He has one last plan in mind. And even he isn't sure that that plan is going to make things better or worse.

"Enjoy taking another dump!" You shout as he leaves the room, making sure to lock it. Now you and Mello are completely alone, facing one another in utter silence. And it's too silent that you can hear some of the other mafia members arguing in a distant room. You can even hear someone moaning. Mello can hear it too.

You both give each other a look that only you two can understand.

"Oof. Must be nice. Err, so anyways," you start. "The usual place tonight?" And by that you mean stopping by to go atop a dilapidated building in a forsaken road to stargaze with him for ten minutes. You two make sure to always include going there to find tranquility in the stars and with each other. It temporarily removes all the problems and worries you have.

With Mello ruefully shaking his head, you frown. He puts an arm over your shoulder and nods reassuringly instead. You hide a smile.

"We can do that next week or earlier if we're not too preoccupied so don't be so glum. I'll be taking you somewhere new. I'm sure you'll like it."

"I hope so. Otherwise I'm gonna kick your ass."

"You'll be the one getting your ass kicked it if you don't give me back my chocolate right now."

"But I need chocolate too! Chocolate makes you happy. So I need it, 'kay?!"

"As far as I know that chocolate is mine and not yours???"

"But I'm your friend aren't I? You still have a lot of stock in there I'm sure."

"I'm running out of chocolates so give it back you little demon."

He hastily maneuvers before you can even stand up and try running away. He seizes your wrists and places your arms behind your back to prevent you from moving. Since you two are facing each other instead of him being behind you, the position is rather awkward. The proximity of your faces makes both of you blush and in an instance he backs away. You cackle in triumph as to his dismay of not getting his chocolate back.

You look at your wristwatch before taking a bite of the sweet. "Well Marsh-Mello, what are we waiting for? Let's hit the road! I'm already bored." You hold his hand the moment he stands up and you two run outside.

Mello throws the helmet to you which almost hit your face, earning an irked look from you. He then starts the engine as you wear your helmet.

When he starts to move just before you can take a seat, you panic. Of course he only wants to toy with you. He stops at a corner and waits for you, who's running and ready to smash his face. You pant as you finally reach him.

"You little bastard! Why'd you have to make me suffer?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You groan and then sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The closeness of your bodies make you both blush. He makes sure you're all set before once again driving in a high speed that made you hug him tighter. You've always known that he drives this fast, but to experience it yourself? It feels like your skin is being blown away and seperated from your bones.

"W-Would you mind slowing down, just a bit?"

"Come on [Y/N], that's not fun."

"So you call this fun? You're gonna kill us both. I'm too beautiful to die right now!"

"Tsk. You're no fun." You're about to make a rebuttal but he slows down reluctantly and matches the speed you will normally drive at. You sigh in relief and absently rests your chin on his right shoulder, looking at the stores, buildings, and a few people walking on the sidewalk which you are hastily passing by. On your left you see numbered vehicles and a few more buildings.

You're enjoying the ride, however, you hear the tire from behind pop. That is already bad, and worse comes when the front one pops too. He goes to the side before halting.

"Shit! Just our luck!"

"Haha seems like you and I share the same fate, huh? Goals."

Mello sighs as a realization dawns him.

'Matt.. you little shit.'

"Whadda we do now?" You worriedly ask.

"We're still halfway to the place I'm taking you and this happens.. I suppose I can just park this somewhere. You wouldn't mind walking, would you?"

"Sounds fine with me then."

He nods and parks the motor beside a bicycle and a car in front of a store, placing a tracker in it just in case it gets stolen. But if it ever does, he can just get another one. Legally or not. Doesn't matter.

In silence, you and Mello start walking side by side. Arriving upon a city bridge you can't help but stare at the river. The limit to what you can see on its side is a lively city despite the hour, with skyscrapers and billboard signs lit up. You can hear the occasional, distant sounds of car engines.

You avert your gaze back in the front, meeting chatty people on your way who are walking opposite to you and Mello. You realize that they're mostly couples who are matching clothes and openly talking, not caring if they're to be heard by others. Mello also notices, and not only that but the way you two undeniably look like one. Without any intentions, your clothes match. Not that it's a big deal since everyday you two wear black, but because of your surroundings, he might as well seize the opportunity.

Beaming from ear to ear, he holds your hand and intertwines your fingers together. You're confused, but at the same time liking it, a blush creeping on your face.

"Don't mind if I do. We don't wanna look like a couple who can't bear with each other after some kind of quarrel, do we?"

"But we're not a couple."

"No, not yet."

You stop and raise an eyebrow.

"Oop. Did I say that out loud? My bad."

He cheekily grins. It's only a joke, you think, but at the same time you wish that he's not joking—which he really isn't.

"Hey, how long are we going to walk?"

"Why? Are your feet giving up already? Want a piggyback?"

You completely turn red. He smiles at that.

"Nah.. I—"

"Don't waste the opportunity. I might change my mind later."

"I don't care. This is enough."

You squeeze his hand tightly—too tight that he swears he feel his phalanges breaking—but unexpectedly, he just moans. And people look at the two of you.

"The fuck was that?!? I didn't know you were some kind of masochist!"

"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO SAY IT OUT LOUD?"

"AHA so you do admit being a masochist!!"

"WHAT? NO! I'M NOT!"

"Why so defensive now?"

"Because people are hearing you???"

"Let them! HAHAHAHA! MY BOYFRIEND IS A MASOCHIST! ISN'T THAT CUTE??"

But after realizing what you just said, you stop and gnaw your lower lip.

"Oh earth swallow me right now.. Sorry! God I'm embarrassed. You're not my boyfriend—"

"Didn't I tell you? Not yet."

You punch his shoulder playfully. "Stop joking around! I might actually believe you ya know?"

"Who said I was joking?"

"..Of course you are—"

"—OH, here we are!"

He diverts the topic, leaving you to slightly pout to yourself as he turns left to an unoccupied and dark area, pulling you to the railing where you two halt and see the perfect angle to view the city and the river from. The water and its light ripples glimmer under the moonlight as the brisk wind hits your skin, making you slightly shiver. Mello notices this and takes off his jacket, insisting you should wear it instead. You don't argue.

"Mello, this is.. magnificent. And a nice spot to stargaze as well! It's pretty wherever I lay my eyes on."

"Except behind us, maybe. You don't like trees that much."

You cackle. "They give me the creeps, especially during night. But at least we don't have to face that way, do we?"

He shakes his head as he laughs, inclining himself closer to you. He places his hands just beside yours on the railing, looking up and then looking at you, who's still busy admiring the sky.

He can't help but smile admiring you in your adorable placidity.

"The stars are pretty tonight." You say as you notice him looking at you in your peripheral vision.

"You always say that. They're always pretty. Sparkly."

"Mesmerizing to look at." You add. He nods, still staring at you.

"That's why I love the stars.."

"Uh huh. And chocolate." You grin.

"And you."

You stand flabbergasted, daring not to look at him directly. Your heart feels like it's about to jolt out of your chest. Your fingers begin to tremble on their own as you feel something intangible whirling inside your stomach. You know what it is—and he's making your heart flutter. But you can't trust this feeling as you aren't even sure if he's joking or not. And if he is, you kinda hate it. You want it to be real.

"Aye, don't flirt with me. That's so not you." You snap, rolling your eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to perceive what's on your mind. He taps your shoulder before sitting on the railing, inviting you to join him. You're a little hesitant for the fear of falling to the water. And when it comes to this kind of thing, you don't trust Mello. You're sure he'll eventually push you. The number of times he had done this to you in some places before is something you can't even count anymore.

"C'mon [Y/N]. Don't be scared. I won't push you. Or if I do, you're free to drag me as well."

"Tch. So you do intend to push me." Nevertheless, you sit beside him and grip the bars tightly with your clammy palms. Luckily the concrete extends six inches after the railing.

Mello feels like you two aren't physically close enough, and he thinks it's not 'romantic' enough, so he slides even closer to you until his palm is already above your hand and your shoulders bump.

"Oh, no. You keep your distance, Mr. Wonka."

"It's not like we're having social distancing here you know?"

"You're too close."

"And I'm going to get even closer.."

He whispers, his hot breath tickling the side of your neck. You sigh and face him, and your noses bump. You urgently back away and you almost slip if not for him.

"What's gotten into your system for you to act so flirty all of a sudden?"

"You."

"MELLO!! I'm damn serious. Like, all the jests can wait but for now, just.. don't flirt with me. I'm in no mood."

"Aww, trying to shoo me away huh? After stealing my heart and my chocolates, here you are suddenly breaking my poor, poor heart."

"One more attempt and I'm going to drown you."

"Heeeeeeey. Don't be so vicious now." He softly bumps your shoulder with his. You only click your tongue in annoyance.

"Seriously. Stop messing with me. I hate you."

"No you don't. I'm not messing with you. I'm serious—"

"Tch. Serious my ass."

"..You don't have one—"

"See? You little fucktard. You keep on messing with me. So just stop flirting with me. I swear I'll kill you if you continue."

"Whaaat? Seriously, I'm not messing with you. You gotta—"

"Mels, no, no, no. You can poke fun of me, push me off right now or anything but just don't flirt with me. You're a bastard for torturing my feelings. That's not cool at all. Damn it," you spat. He keep his silence, his mouth starting to gape.

"Don't make me assume things because I really, really, really like you!"

The words pour out unbidden. Your voice resonates and immediately you shut up and look down with a furious blush.

'That's it, congratulations for possibly ruining your friendship.' You think as you bite your lower lip.

Your blush vanishes as the fluttering feeling in your chest does, being replaced with instant regret, as if your heart has dropped to your stomach.

The look of surprise in his face turns to a cheeky grin. With much glee, he chuckles.

"I've always known this devil is a pure softie inside..."

"M-Mello.."

You are about to tear up, but then he says, "Do you know what you just did? You ruined my plans, [Y/N]! But I suppose I can forgive you for that."

"What?? Plan?? Damn you, damn you, damn you! I knew you were up to no good! Damn it, Mello! Pretend this night never existed. I'm outta here—"

"No no, it's not what you think. 'I like you' was supposed to be my line, not yours!" He can't help but burst out laughing, leaving you momentarily dazed, but then when you realize what he possibly meant by that, it's as if your heart has come back to life. Your face turns red.

"I was going to confess to you tonight, but it looks like the tables had turned. You are a.. partypooper! Do you know how many times I've practice saying that in front of Matt, just to end up with you saying it instead of me? Unbelievable!"

He wheezes, catches his breath, then looks at you. "And look, I'm not complaining, alright? Haha.. but the way things turn out to be in the end is just so.. whimsical. But I'm gonna say it anyway: I like you. I like you a lot."

You scrutinize his facial expression just to be sure that he's serious, and you confirm he truly is. He's absently smiling, and just from staring at you is the reason. Rapture dances in his eyes. He looks genuinely happy and candid at the moment. And here you are left speechless, only staring at him as a sheepish smile slowly invades your face.

You almost lose your grip on the railing when he briefly kisses your cheek. And again, nothing comes out of your mouth.

"Do I also need to say that I wanna be your boyfriend? Because, isn't it obvious?"

"Mello..."

"No pressure, [Y/N]. If we both like each other but you're not yet ready for a relationship, I understand and I can wait."

"Well.." You hide your face on his shoulder because you feel like the longer you stare at him, the more probable it is that you'll faint. "Uhm.. Err... Have you ever been.. in a relationship?"

"No, not really. You will be my first one. If you accept."

You smile. "Well, same as you here."

"Really? I thought you already had a partner or two before."

"I had no time to be in love. Add that some of the people I was acquainted with sucked, and the kind ones.. well, let's just say that they seemed to be missing something.. something that, I suppose, only you have. And.. it will really make me happy if you are to be my first," you lift your head up to meet his eyes. "So I accept."

"You serious?? Right here?? Right now??"

"Need I repeat myself, partner-in-crime?"

"Haha! Course not!"

You peck his cheek as your warm smile broadens. You then rest your head on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving the distant city as he wraps an arm around your waist, meticulous so that you two wouldn't slip from the railing and fall down.

"I think it's safe to assume now that you're the one behind flattening my tires. And just so I can ride with you. You're a cunning man, so I suppose you also did something with your own scooter just so we could walk together, like couples in movies. Haha I never thought you'd think something like that!"

"It was Matt's idea. Swear. He thought it was more romantic that way. And he's probably the one who rigged my scooter. He really can be a huge pain in the ass sometimes."

"Like you are."

"Aw come on. Take that back you little demon!"

"Noooopeeeee! Pfahahaha— AAAA SHIT!"

And with that, you both plunge into the frigid water with a loud splash.

[delicioussshame]

In the never ending series of “things that aren’t wips because I can’t, I have to finish something before starting something else”, have this thing I posted as a wip before, featuring a version of PIDW where LBH collected his harem... differently, with guest star NYY.

Luo Binghe immediately recognises the man dressed in cultivator garb as Yingying’s shizun.

Beautiful and serene, she said. The perfect image of an untouchable immortal, dressed in white and pale greens. Always holding a fan of exquisite manufacture.

But more than her vivid descriptions of her shizun’s loveliness, he remembers what she said next.

She’d been lying on her side, her long cascading hair not managing to hide her luscious curves.

Luo Binghe had known she wouldn’t be ready for another round just yet, and so had been pleased to listen to her lighthearted pillow talk.

Today’s topic had been her exasperation with her shizun’s lack of sex life.

“Sometimes I can’t believe how obtuse he is. Liu-shishu has been courting him for years, and I don’t think he ever noticed. And don’t get me started on the sect master! All Shizun would have to do is bat his eyelashes and the sect master would drop everything to worship him! But no, he never takes him on it. For a while I thought maybe Shizun just preferred women, but more than one female disciple has tried her hand at him, all to no avail.”

Luo Binghe could imagine the type. Cultivators could be lofty. They think they’re above the needs of the flesh.

He always enjoys teaching them how wrong they are.

If the demonic part of his heritage revels in desecrating those pompous righteous cultivators, no one else could tell. Luo Binghe was too good at his chosen hobby to let his personal feelings interfere.

“I love and respect Shizun more than anyone. Without him, I would never have become the kind of cultivator who can afford A-Luo’s company. So I am motivated by filial piety and nothing else when I say that I have never met anyone who needs to get laid more than Shen Qingqiu.”

Luo Binghe had laughed. “Oh? Is Yingying going to replace me with her old teacher?”

Her scandalised look had sent him into another bout of laughter. “A-Luo! I would never!”

“Then why is she telling me this? Does she want me to take care of him?”

Ning Yingying had stared at him, a glint in her eyes. Luo Binghe could see the plans form in her head as she spoke. “Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would do wonders for Shizun, and I know A-Luo loves breaking people like him.”

Luo Binghe had blinked, inwardly caught off-guard. He wasn’t blind. He knew Ning Yingying was a lot more observant than she appeared. It wasn’t the first time she had made that kind of comment. “Yingying knows me so well. Should I be worried?”

She had swapped at him. He could have easily evaded the blow, but he didn’t bother. “A-Luo doesn’t have anything to fear from me. But honestly, if I sent Shizun your way, would you take care of him? I really think he could benefit from it. And Shizun is very beautiful! Many will definitely be jealous if they ever find out.”

Luo Binghe had nothing against the idea of taking a peak lord to bed. He bet Xin Mo would love to feed on such high-quality cultivation. “I would be honored to entertain your teacher.”

He could tell from the way she had brightened he was about to be thoroughly thanked.

She had paid him too, both for herself and for her shizun’s future visit. Generously enough that Luo Binghe had wondered if he should praise her filial piety to her shizun.

She didn’t lie either. Shen Qingqiu really is exquisite.

Not as handsome as Luo Binghe himself, but nobody is. “You must be Shen Qingqiu.”

“Luo Binghe, I presume.” Luo Binghe cannot quite decipher the look he’s being given, which is rare enough to catch his attention. He’s pretty certain there’s some attraction there, but the rest? Trepidation? Outright fear? Disdain? Excitement?

He’s sure he’s going to find out. He gestures for Shen Qingqiu to sit down as he moves to prepare tea. He could have one of his servants handle it, but Luo Binghe has always preferred taking care of things himself. That personal touch has seduced more than one client, if they didn’t visit him only for his food.

Shen Qingqiu drinks the offered tea in silence before he starts talking. “If you would please tell me your fee, I will be refunding Ning Yingying a corresponding amount. I am sorry for wasting your time, but I have no interest in procuring your services.”

Ooh, that’s cute. If Luo Binghe wasn’t an expert at perceiving the signs of physical attraction, he might even believe him. Shen Qingqiu is interested, he’s sure of it. He’s just a prude, like Yingying said. “Yingying won’t accept it. Why refuse her most thoughtful gift?”

“My disciple should put her money to better uses.”

“I assure you, employing me is money well spent. You could find that out yourself.”

Luo Binghe bites back his amusement as the man stumbles, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t… a credit to your profession. Please don’t take it personally. As I said, I have no interest in finding out myself.”

“But how will it look if you were to leave without finding out? My reputation will be hurt.”

“How could something this insignificant hurt the reputation of such a famous courtesan?”

Luo Binghe grins. “So even renowned cultivators have heard of me? Nothing bad, I hope?” And where did an isolated scholar like him caught wind of such lowbrow rumours, huh?

The sigh he’s answered with does not cloak a hint of amusement. “How many of the sect’s disciples have you seduced? You even managed to steal away Liu-shidi’s little sister, whose beauty and virtu are known across the land. Of course I have heard of you. More than I would have liked, if I am allowed to be honest.”

Ah. He should probably have expected that. Cang Qiong is full of eager young men and women. Apparently, Shen Qingqiu isn’t such a recluse that gossip doesn’t reach him. “I see. Still, you must have heard good things, or you wouldn’t have come into my parlour.”

Red is a good look on the man. Luo Binghe feels the first stirrings of desire rise into him. He just knows Shen Qingqiu would be stunning, lying despoiled on those formerly pristine robes, trying to discover what he’s begging for more of.

Not to mention he can almost hear Xin Mo purr. What a feast Shen Qingqiu will be.

Time to press on.

Luo Binghe reaches for the now empty cup of tea he’s certain Shen Qingqiu drained without tasting, making sure to caress the fingers still holding it with a touch just light enough to possibly be accidental, if one were very dumb or very blind. “Let me serve you again,” he says as he pours more tea with deliberate grace.

Instead, Shen Qingqiu rises from the table. “Don’t bother! I am obviously wasting your valuable time. If you won’t share with me how much Ning Yingying paid you, I will compensate her otherwise.”

Like Luo Binghe is letting him leave like this. “Would you have me waste the tea already prepared?”

“Drink it yourself! Surely it’s nothing compared to your usual breaches of propriety.”

Damn it. Luo Binghe miscalculated. Shen Qingqiu is too spooked to be open to further advances. Really, what a prude, to be so destabilised by a simple brush of hands.

If he can take a step back and defuse the tension enough for him not to leave… “You seem in such a hurry. Do you think I force myself on my visitors? I’m hurt.” As if he ever needed to use force to have someone.

Well, never without their consent, at least.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t seem like he’d be into that, but then again, people can surprise you.

“I’m not scared! I just have no reason to be here any longer. Thank you for your time. I’ll be leaving my student in your care.” For a moment, there’s a glower in his eyes that Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind seeing more of. “Be good to her, or my next visit will be far less pleasant.”

Aww. Shen Qingqiu cares! How cute. “So I have to get a bit rough if I want to see you again?”

His outraged face almost makes him laugh. “Don’t you dare!”

“Or are you looking for an excuse for our paths to cross again? I assure you it’s unnecessary. I’d welcome you anytime.”

“I will keep that in mind,” says Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly, already crossing the door.

Luo Binghe lets him leave. Obviously, this will be going nowhere today.

Really, he’s offended. He cannot remember someone rejecting him so blatantly, ever. Worse, Xin Mo will be cranky. A treat was dangled in its metaphorical face, and then was cruelly taken away before it could have a taste.

He can’t let this humiliation stand.

He won’t have to. The delicate fan Shen Qingqiu came with, red spider lilies on a stark white background, is still on the table, forgotten in his haste to leave.

Luo Binghe’s customer service is impeccable. He’ll be returning the abandoned item himself.

It’s not like finding the peak lord of Qing Jing will be a challenge.

[jaskierswolf]

The Prince of Darkness

Written for @thewitcherbog flash fic challenge a while back but I never posted!

Rating: M

Summary: Jaskier is the King of the Underworld, and it's Valdo's day of judgement.

CW: Demon!Jaskier (and witchers), implied sexual content, death, torture (burning, choking, freezing.), Jask has an open relationship with all the witchers (but Geralt is his favourite), mentions of non con.

The hotel lobby was sophisticated and yet traditional, like something out of a movie. The dark panelling on the walls were dimly lit by flickering candles, and there was a fireplace roaring in the centre of the foyer, and a handful of gorgeous golden-eyed beauties were making their way around the room. They were finely dressed, perfectly tailored suits with silken blood red waistcoats detailed with golden buttercups, a tray balanced on their hands as they passed out flutes of champagne. In the corner of the room was a black grand piano, the lid propped up as the man behind it let his fingers dance across the ivory keys, rings glistening silver and gold in the candlelight.

Jaskier smiled to himself as he played, his eyes shut, focussing on every little sound in the room, blending it with the music, manipulating the souls around him until they were practically eating out of his hand.

The Prince of Darkness, the mortals called him.

Lucifer himself.

He preferred Jaskier; buttercups were so beautiful, so innocent, so toxic.

It was the perfect moniker.

Lux was his domain, his hotel, a haven for demons and sinners alike, and the perfect stage for when Jaskier had to deal with… unpleasant business. The witchers, as he liked to call his inner circle of demons, would deal with the aftermath, cleaning up the elevator before any of Jaskier’s regular clientele could see.

The witchers were just such good pets.

Geralt approached the piano, his honey golden eyes almost entirely black as they approached the end of another poor soul’s contract. There was an itch that creeped under Jaskier’s skin, hot fire burning through his veins, but it didn’t bother him. No, he relished in the flames, let it warm his cold immortal body. Cracking an eye open, he peered at the witcher who had disturbed his music.

“He’s here, my lord.”

Jaskier sighed, bringing the music to an end, and then, with a snap of his fingers, the ivory keys started to play anew. The song was a familiar tune, a well known pop song from the mortals’ charts. It would keep his honoured guests entertained, after all, at Lux the party never-ended. Those who stepped through the swinging doors were transported to a realm of endless night; cocktails, champagne and designer clothes. The chandelier in the middle of the room twinkled, and there was a sharp clack of high heels on the granite floor as his guests mingled.

None of them ever seemed to realise there was something not quite right about Lux. When they were done partying, when Jaskier had made deals for their souls, they would leave and return to their realm as if they had only been there for an evening, never to return until their contract was up.

And they always returned.

Occasionally, a poor mortal would fight it, realising their impending doom. They’d try to flee the country, get as far away from Lux as possible, but the witchers were excellent hunters. Once the demons got the right scent, they could track their prey to the end of the known universe. The mortals never stood a chance. They either came willingly or they would be dragged through the doors by two of Jaskier’s finest demons; he wasn’t sure which he preferred.

Yes it was simpler if they accepted their fate, but he couldn’t deny that he just adored the thrill of watching the poor terrified soul being thrown at his feet.

He thought of himself as a kind devil, if such a thing existed, his father would certainly disagree, but his father could rot in heaven. Truly, Jaskier did his best to be fair. He granted the mortals wishes and made sure they lived their best lives, he even allowed most of them to live for many decades with the gifts he gave them, their deepest desires. Really, for some of the wishes he’d granted, it would have been kind to allow them even a year of life, let alone what he gave to them.

Ungrateful bastards, the lot of them.

Valdo Marx had been an easy soul to claim; he was greedy, lustful, full of pride. He’d practically begged at Jaskier’s feet back when he was in his first year of university.

“I want to be the best musician the world has ever seen, I want the most beautiful woman, Virginia Stael, to be my wife, and I want-”

Jaskier had waved his hand, his dark feathered wings spreading out behind him, and Valdo’s jaw had snapped shut, muffled sounds coming from his throat.

“I want, I want, I want,” Jaskier had cooed, his finger hooking under Valdo’s chin as he pouted down at the mortal, whipping his tail round to caress down the poor man’s arm until his wrist had been locked in a vice. “Do you know what I want… Marx?”

The wanna-be musician had scoffed, a fatal mistake and one that had cost him years off his life. “Everyone knows that, Lucifer.”

“My name, Valdo, is Jaskier,” he’d hissed, his forked tongue flicking out from his lips as more and more of his devil form had been revealed. “And I just want to have fun.”

“You want my soul.”

“No, your soul is the price. A mere business transaction. I just want to get wasted and shag my rather lovely demons, and you are wasting my time.”

Ah yes. Valdo had always been a little shit-stain in Jaskier’s life, but now his time had come.

The piano music began to build to an earth shattering crescendo, making the glasses rattle, and dust fall from the chandelier. Jaskier cracked his neck, feeling a prickling sensation on his scalp as his horns began to grow, and still the sweet, oblivious mortals noticed nothing. They sipped on their champagne and chatted amongst themselves, ignoring the way Jaskier’s cornflower blue eyes slowly turned onyx, his skin deathly pale. He smiled sweetly at his favourite witcher, running his lips along Geralt’s sharp cheekbones.

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, capturing Geralt’s lips with his, tongues meeting in a quick but heated display of passion.

And then the doors burst open, Lambert and Aiden dragginga handsome but aging man through the doors, grey hairs dusting his temple, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It had been a long time since Jaskier had seen Valdo Marx, but there was no denying his beauty, now distinguished, a true silver fox. Dark chocolate eyes met his as all the colour drained from Marx’s face.

“Oh God, no… no, please,” he stammered, struggling in the arms of the demons that held him.

“My dear father holds no power here,” Jaskier chuckled, smirking at the man at his feet. “There’s no use in praying. Your soul belongs to me.”

“Lu- Jaskier, please. I’m too young. It’s too soon,” Valdo begged, reaching up to Jaskier with open hands. “My wife, my children.”

“Oh but Valdo, It’s never too soon. I am never early and I never try to back out of a deal, darling,” Jaskier pouted, squatting so he was at eye level with the mortal. “So why don’t you come with me, love? Stop all this fussing. You’re ruining my party.”

With a fire not often seen in mortals, Valdo spat at Jaskier, and an eerie silence fell over the club. The piano music screeched to a halt, the lid closing with a bang, and the only sound was a low rumble of growls from the witchers. Geralt was at Jaskier’s side in a flash, his sword drawn and pointed at the man.

It was sweet.

As if Jaskier couldn’t defend himself, but he did enjoy the show, the way Geralt’s arms would flex as he gripped the sword, twirling it in a circle before executing his victim.

“I had planned to give you an easy death,” Jaskier lied, standing back up to his full demonic height and clearing his face with a snap, “but now, I think I’ll have some fun. Geralt, Eskel, with me. Lambert, Aiden, make sure our guests stay out of the way.”

“No!” Valdo cried, falling once more at Jaskier’s feet, gripping onto his ankles.

Oh, how he loved it when they begged for their lives.

When Jaskier glided through the foyer, picking up a champagne flute from Coen’s tray with barely a brush of his lips to the demon’s cheek, the crowd parted before him. Compliments fell off their tongues, sweet like honey, unaware of the influence Jaskier had over them. They all watched him, they always watched him, so very eager to please. Geralt snarled behind him as one brave mortal rested their hand on Jaskier’s arm, but it was Eskel who snapped their fingers, silent and deadly, before they’d even realised he was there.

Valdo was pulled into the elevator, tears streaming down his face and choked off screams ripping from his throat, but Jaskier remained calm, and if it weren’t for his eyes and the horns amongst his tousled brown hair, he would have looked like any other hotel owner.

Until the doors closed.

And then all hell broke loose; literally. Jaskier’s body cracked and snapped into place as his legs extended to inhuman proportions, his fingers growing into talons, and he let out a sinful moan as his wings unfurled behind him. He flicked out his tail, and his three-piece suit melted away into a gorgeous black silk corset, embroidered with golden buttercups. Red stockings adorned his legs, held up by lacy black garters, and as he flicked out his ankles, a pair of strappy heels materialised on his feet, the soles flashing red before clicking back onto the floor.

“Jaskier, please, please,” Valdo cried, falling against the side of the elevator as lightning sparked and they dropped fast, the dial on the wall spinning out of control.

“Your soul… belongs to me,” Jaskier hissed, pressing Valdo up against the wall, his hands wrapping around his throat.

He was tempted to snog Valdo’s soul right out of him, a sweet kiss to seal the deal, but that was too kind, and he was feeling a little more dramatic than that, so he pushed back off the wall, beating his wings so he hovered just off the floor. Geralt and Eskel were standing on either side of him, swords drawn with toxic black eyes, veins like ink beneath their skin.

Flames burst out behind them, whipping around so the whole elevator was surrounded by a burning pyre, singeing Valdo’s clothes, and the mortal screamed as the fire licked at his hand, scorching the calloused skin. His precious hands, his livelihood, the first things that Jaskier had blessed for him.

There was something so delightfully poetic in that, and Jaskier found great pleasure in it.

“Everyone always thinks that hell is eternal fire,” he purred, stroking a talon along Geralt’s cheek, before pulling Eskel into a soft kiss, taking his time to enjoy the taste of sulfur on his tongue, “but that isn’t always true.”

“W-what?”

Jaskier just pouted at Valdo. “Do try to keep up, darling.”

And then he snapped his fingers, the fire was suddenly extinguished, replaced by a flood of muddy tar. Valdo spluttered and choked as he slid to the ground, the tar catching in his hair, and wherever it landed his handsome looks withered away. The wedding band slipped from his finger and disappeared, despite Valdo’s desperate scrambling to find it.

The muddy mixture spewed all over the lift, covering the two demons as well as their victim, but Jaskier stayed clean and dry, untouched by the tar. He really wasn’t in the mood for ruining his clothes, not like this. He was rather hoping Geralt would tear them from his body later on that day whilst his other beloved witchers watched.

“J-Jaskier!” Valdo screamed, just as the entire elevator froze.

Blue ice creeped up the walls, wrapping around the legs of both the demons and the pitiful mortal on the floor. Valdo sobbed, trying to escape the ice but they both knew it was over. His back pressed against the wall as the ice grew, crystallising over his body, wrapping around his throat. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling, landing in his eyelashes as he struggled to breathe.

And Jaskier stole back his voice.

The final gift.

Valdo’s soul ripped from his body, and the man fell limp against the wall.

With a wave of his hand, Jaskier captured the soul, weaving his magic until a silver fox with chocolate brown eyes was nestled in his arms. He grinned, lowered the fox to the floor and then snapped his fingers to open the doors.

Before he left the elevator, his corset grew into a beautiful gown, split all the way up to his thighs, and his demonic features melted away. He patted Geralt once more on the cheek, pressing their lips together, before striding back into the foyer, not looking back at the frozen massacre he’d left behind. Beside him, a silver fox trotted along, a shadow of the man he used to be.

[simoviacourt]

Channel 6 studios, outskirts of Zonneminster, late August - roughly three months have passed

*NOTE: this is a VERY long and text-heavy post discussing the current Simovian political situation, consider yourself warned*

Arturo: Good evening to our viewers and of course to our amazing studio audience! Welcome to another evening with The Talk! Tonight we’re going to dive into all the latest news of the week and with me around the table I have our wonderful guests for the night...

Next

Arturo: (continued) First, let me present to you Anne Kortehof, the controversial yet always impeccably stylish Queen of Simstagram!

Anne: Thank you Arturo, happy to be here tonight!

Arturo: We also have Simovia’s national pride and the newly minted captain of our national football team… Elmer De Marees! What do you think, will we bring home the world championship this year?

Elmer: We’ve got some tough opponents but the team and I will be giving it our best!

Arturo: Great to hear, it really has been too long! Then, I’m happy to introduce to you a woman I greatly admire - Iza Laan, the founder of the political think tank “Future Solutions” and the youngest woman to appear on the cover of Money Monthly! Welcome!

Iza: Thanks, Arturo, it’s a pleasure!

Arturo: And finally, my very good friend and a man whom we all adore - Nandu Talkar!

(huge applause from the audience)

Nandu: Thanks Ar, great to be here, as always! 

Arturo: Now, a little bird told me that you might have some new songs to share with us later tonight…

Nandu: Only if you behave…

(audience laughs)

Arturo: I’m sure I have no idea what you mean! But, first, let’s dive into this week’s headlines...

Arturo: (continued) Well, now that the summer is over, our newly elected parliament is in session, with a new prime minister! On Monday Her Royal Majesty officially took Mr Caan’s pledge of fealty and opened the parliament for the year...

(booing from the audience)

Arturo: Ah, it would seem that not everyone has much love for the Prime Minister..

Anne: Or they don’t see why a man should have to kneel in front of a useless woman…

Nandu: Oh wow, are we even five minutes in?

Iza: Well, I think that’s the last time we will see that man kneeling in front of anyone. 

Arturo: Not a fan of Mr Caan’s, Iza?

Iza: Not exactly, no, though I know Anne here adores the man. 

Anne: Me and half the country.

Iza: Which still seems ludicrous to me. But, populists will always have their appeal, I suppose. 

Anne: If by populist you mean that he isn’t afraid to go against the mainstream and say things as they are, then yeah, there’s definitely an appeal. Finally we have a prime minister who won’t play the same old political games that all the others have. Someone who will put Simovian interests first. 

Iza: And what does that even mean? He’d close our borders and end all international collaboration...

Anne: Which brought us to war once already and how well did that work out for us.

(cheers from the audience)

Iza: International collaboration also has created thousands of new jobs and there are countless businesses that rely on the good relations that the Queen works hard to foster. 

Anne: Ah yes, you’re one of those!

Iza: I beg your pardon?

Anne: Monarchists… you lot always -- 

Arturo: Hey hey loving the exchange of views but let’s keep it civil!

Elmer: This is exactly why I avoid these conversations.

Nandu: You and me both…

Iza: Easy for you both, with all respect. De Marees, doesn’t your grandfather sit in the House of Lords? 

Elmer: Yes, but…

Anne: The elite couldn't care less about the dealings of this country as long as they’re comfortable. 

Nandu: (laughs) Ha, that’s the first time someone has ever counted me among the elite! 

Anne: Well you mingle with them often enough… aren’t you friends with the Queen? 

Nandu: I’ve even never had the pleasure to meet Her Royal Majesty. 

Anne: Well, Prince Andrew then?

Nandu: I have met His Royal Highness and attended events with him, yes… but whether we’re friends, hard to say. He’s a nice guy, though, excellent company. But that doesn’t make me one of this “elite” you keep mentioning on your socials. I’ve worked hard to get where I am today. 

Iza: Yet your current position allows you to claim this apolitical stance.

Nandu: Just because I don’t like talking about politics doesn’t mean I don’t care or vote, for that matter. I’m not clueless. My family still can’t vote in this country and though I was born here and grew up here, I doubt Mr Caan and his party would consider me Simovian. 

Anne: That’s not true, he has nothing against new Simovians. 

Nandu: As opposed to what? The old Simovians? How many generations does it take to belong to that group?

Iza: And that’s just one of the reasons that I’m not a fan of Mr Caan, as you put it Arturo. His rhetoric is divisive at best and blatantly xenophobic at worst. And now he is the prime minister. I’m actually not a monarchist, there are so many things wrong with the institution but it’s times like these that I’m happy that we have a Queen who can push back on what he’d otherwise do to our country. 

Anne: Have you ever actually talked to him or attended one of his seminars? He has great plans for Simovia! I know that the media loves to paint him as this xenophobic loudmouth but he’s actually a really lovely man. He’s well educated but he doesn’t hide in his ivory tower. He knows that the people want freedom and he’s willing to give it to them.

Iza: You can’t be serious… freedom to what? Starve and end up on the street with no healthcare? I’ve read through his plans, they’re now out there on the government’s website and what I see is...

Anne: He just wants to encourage people to make the best choices in their own lives. Being controlled by some big political machine won’t let people do that. If you just opened your eyes, I’m sure you could see that.

Iza: I… Arturo please can we move on? Seriously... I can’t believe that I’m forced to debate politics with someone who clearly has no understanding of how society functions. 

Arturo: Now Iza, she does have a right to her opinion… but, it is about time we moved on. After the break, more engagement rumours between Her Royal Majesty the Queen and His Grace the Landgraaf van Hoensbroek...

Next

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So this is the first fic I’ve ever posted on tumblr, low key kinda scary😄 But this man and his paramour have been on my mind for the longest. This is a self insert fic, but I don’t really use “Y/N”. Hope you enjoy and any feedback would be great!

Summary: You are an assassin hired by Tyrion to act as extra security alongside Bronn. He brings you back to King’s Landing just as the boy king Jeoffry Baratheon plans to marry the cunning Margaery Tyrell. But with all the guests roaming around, you begin to wonder who is a friend and who is a foe. No one makes you wonder more than the famed prince from Dorne and his captivating paramour.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of murder, allusions to sex

—————

You never knew anything in the seven kingdoms could make you feel so small. It wasn’t as if you’d ever let it show. You held your head high, walking alongside Tyrion as both of you entered the great hall of the throne room, Bronn on the opposite side of your employer. The Red Keep was even bigger than you had imagined it to be. The throne room was the tallest room you had ever seen. Against the dark ceiling the columns looked as if they stretched up into the night sky.

Every eye in the palace was on the three of you, and you felt no one’s eyes more than Cersei’s. You held her gaze. A woman who lived in luxury her whole life did not frighten you. She may have influence, but you had experience, strength, freedom, and skill with your bow that you were now acutely aware was strapped to your back. Having the protection of Tyrion’s influence and connections and Bronn’s strength and skill with a sword brought a sense of comfort, allowing you to remain calm under such scrutinizing gaze.

“Brother.” Cersei greeted with a soft smile that failed to hide all the vileness in her heart. “You come with friends.”

“Oh no, more like bodyguards. We have so many enemies now a days sister, I like to know I’m protected.” Tyrion smirked, leaving Bronn chuckling. You, on the other hand, would not let your intimidating demeanor fade, remaining as stoic and unyielding as the stone columns that held up the palace you wished to see fall. “May I introduce Bronn, Lord of Highgarden and-“

“Yes, I know all about the Silver Hawk from the North. I wonder if you are half as good as they say you are.” She mocked, her tone anything but genuinely curious. “I am told that you can hit your target 200 meters away and steal their breath before they even know what hit them.” If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was impressed, even if she did look at you as if you were the lowest creature she ever beheld.

“Perhaps I will have an opportunity to display my skills while I am here, your grace.” You’ll see first hand when my arrow is aimed just above your crooked neck.

“Perhaps.” She replied, feigning as much sweetness as a ferrel cat.

The both of you narrowed your eyes at each other. There was no outright exchange of harsh words or petty language, but the furious tension between the two of you was enough to fill the entire hall with uncomfortable silence. You hoped your unyielding gaze scared her. You wondered how many people actually defied her, you wondered how long it would take to get under her skin.

“Yes, well.” Tyrion interrupted, knowing you were bubbling with anger. Cersei was too, and although you allowed her to see your own emotions, it please you a bit to know you could anger her just as easy. You hated Lannisters almost more than anything, but you also knew Cersei’s time would come. She would pay for her crimes, fate would decide her end. You knew that fate had not brought you here to slay the queen regent, as much as you despised her. “As much as I love chatting with you sister, I simply wanted our arrival to be known. We have much unpacking to do and much to discuss.”

“Be careful, little brother.” She warned. “Your guard has little reserve and it seems your little silver hawk has a silver tongue as well. You would be wise to remember that people have been killed for that and less.”

“I’ll be sure to keep very close watch over them.” Tyrion retorted sarcastically before turning on his heal and exiting the great hall. You and Bronn followed, the later unable to contain his amusement.

“I’d say that went well!” He quipped, smiling at both you and your employer.

“She didn’t call to chop off our heads, that is some relief.” Tyrion noted. “But you both must be careful, especially you.” His scrutinizing gaze met yours.

“What? You expected me to just let her try and hold some dominate power over me? Just because she is draped in finest jewels in the seven realms and hides behind the her father’s influence does not mean I will tremble like a child before her.”

Tyrion sighed. “You must, for now, hold your tongue. Your wit does you credit, that’s why I like you, but you must check yourself. My sister is more dangerous than you can imagine. Don’t tremble, but don’t overstep either.” You remembered that Tyrion had been playing the game his whole life, he was basically born into it. He knew his sister better than anyone, and that meant he knew how to get around her better than anyone. You made a note to observe exactly what made Cersei tick, what made her preen under her usually reserved demeanor.

Despite the warm tones of the palace, you felt as though you were walking on ice. One wrong step and you were dead under a frozen tundra. You didn’t like this at all. Tyrion promised your freedom would not be at risk, yet you felt the freedom to speak your mind, the freedom to do as you pleased slip from you more and more. You were being watched here, you weren’t stupid. Every move had to be calculated, every word like honey laced with poison. The faster the boy king could marry, the less people there were for you to worry about. It made you uncomfortable not knowing who was an ally and who was a foe. The one thing you could appreciate about Cersei was that you always knew where you stood with her.

“I will try to remain civil if she approaches me, otherwise I will avoid your sister to the best of my abilities. But she would be wise not to challenge my reserve.” I huffed, earning a laugh from Bronn.

“Your reserve, little hawk, will be undone, whether it be from your words or your arrows.” He teased. You gave him a shove and he stumbled a bit, but not much. The last thing you needed was the oaf calling you “little”.

“The sooner we are out of this horrid place the better.” You huffed.

“I agree,” Tyrion agreed, nodding in understanding, “but don’t hold your breath. There is so much to be done before my nephew’s wedding and I will be relying on both of you to help me. While I am arranging more intimate details with my family, you two will be protecting me, but also doing some side tasks that I will not have time for. Bronn, for the most part you will be either at my side or Shae’s. If the palace discovers her they will use her against me. She can’t be found.”

Shae, Tyrion’s lover of sorts. You had grown close to her on your travels. You were wary at first. Your job was to protect Tyrion, naturally, you were cautious of anyone who might try to hurt him, to get close to him only for information or power. But it was a tough business, out spying a spy, and all your instincts told you to trust Shae. She had not left any of you astray thus far, and though the couple had not named their relationship, you could tell Tyrion and Shae cared immensely for each other. But Tyrion was right, she could be used as a pawn against him, especially if Cersei found out.

There was a sort of kinship between you and Shae. You were both strong, clever women, and she had tended to the few wounds you found yourself with on your travels. She seemed like a sister, and you were grateful for the company and friendship she provided.

“As for our favorite archer, you will be assisting some guests, getting information. I want to know the people attending this wedding, I want to ensure that this wedding goes smoothly. The Tyrell’s are a powerful ally, we cannot lose them.”

You nodded in understanding. Tyrion hired you to protect him, yes, but archery was not your only strength. You could be quiet, and you could listen as well as you could speak. You knew he would ask that of you with all the guests roaming around. You were curious to know what King’s Landing was really like, and even more interested in knowing the people who came here. “Ask it of me and it will be done.”

“Aye.” Bronn agreed.

“You are the most trusted of friends.” Tyrion gave the smallest of smiles. You were hesitant to even be in his service when the lord found you and offered you a job, afraid of losing your freedom. You knew the Lannisters, you knew their foul and power-hungry disposition. Being in their service seemed to you signing your life away. You were surprised to find he did not wish to take such things from you. He hired both you and Bronn to protect him, yes, but he would do the same for you both. You were an odd sort of family, but a family nonetheless. “Get settled and rested for the evening, we’ve had a long journey. We will reconvene later to discuss further plans.”

You nodded and left to your new chamber, one just across from Bronn and down the hall from Tyrion.

The trio was still not aware of the Red Viper slithering about the halls.

——————

Days passed with little to do. You hadn’t seen much of Tyrion. Since your arrival at King’s Landing your employer had become hand to his nephew king and married the pretty Stark girl you later learned was named Sansa. Still, you found ways to spend your time, keeping eyes and ears open for any useful information. You were particularly interested in Joffrey. It was astounding how a little boy could hold so much power, so much evil. You figured he inherited his terror from his mother.

Sansa was an interesting girl as well. Your heart broke for her. She was nothing if not resilient, staying loyal to her betrothed if only to keep herself alive. She was smart, you learned, but not useful when attempting to gather information. She did not deny her loyalty to Joffrey, even to those she liked. You were grateful that Tyrion stepped in to propose to the poor girl, if only to save her from the tyrant king. Both you and Shae kept close eyes on her. She was as smart and clever as Shae and yourself. You had a sneaking suspicion that she could be a close ally, if only your little family could get her away from the palace.

But today was different. Today you left your quarters to explore the palace a bit. You wanted to know what sort of battleground you were working with. It seemed surprising that a palace that was so heavily targeted was so...open. It seemed like light could illuminate any room. Even the gloomy and foreboding throne room could not escape a few beams of sunlight. If you didn’t despise every Lannister crawling about the palace, you had a mind to stay. The palace was only under the allusion of being warm and charming, the people who inhabited it ruined any chance of it being a lovely place. You noticed that the open windows and balconies made perfect outlooks should you need to eliminate a threat with one of your silver arrows.

But for now, the open windows became your place of peace as you ate a bowl of berries, just watching the rest of the sunrise. You saw the sun just barely grace the city with its light before you were called into Tyrion’s chambers. You arrived promptly, Bronn stumbling in a few minutes after you. You rolled your eyes at his lack of punctuality, which only earned you a playful nudge from the Lord of Highgarden.

“Behave you two. I swear I am dealing with children.” Shae huffed, but you could tell behind her sharp features was an air of mischief. Still, you straightened up and diverted your full attention to Tyrion.

“Well, much has happened. Prince Oberyn has arrived in The Capital. I visited him yesterday morning and he made it very clear that he wants to kill any Lannister that he sets his sights on. My father apparently ordered the death of his sister and her children. Our goal, for now, is to keep him happy, to keep him entertained. Bronn, your job will be to appear inconspicuous as you keep a watchful eye over my quarters, make sure no one goes in or out.” He ordered.

Shae huffed. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself thank you.” She huffed.

“No one disputes that my dear.” Tyrion chuckled. You remember watching Shae stab a man she did not want for laying a finger on her. “I’m not worried about you. But my sister and my king nephew are very powerful. They will know how to use you against me.” He explained. Shae still was not pleased with the idea, but she relented.

“As for our hawk,” he turned to you and gave you a list with names you did not recognize, “you will present these girls to Prince Oberyn in my place. You will tell him that royal duties as the king’s new hand have prevented me from revisiting him, but you hope he enjoys the whores as a welcoming gift to King’s Landing.”

“Excuse me?!” You snapped your eyes narrowing in on your employer. “I am not a squire whose job is to bring in girls for spoiled princes!”

“Do not think of it as that.” Tyrion poured himself a glass of wine, knowing that he should chose his next words very carefully. He could feel your eyes burning into him. “Consider it a diplomatic mission. Besides, the prince wishes to meet you. The legends of the Silver Hawk have reached so far as Dorne and he is eager to make your acquaintance. This is the perfect opportunity for the both of you.”

You still weren’t pleased. “So I am now to serve as entertainment for the prince of Dorne.” You sighed and shook your head. “I am only staying long enough to bring him the girls, then I’m leaving.”

“Fine,” Tyrion relented. “But you will be cordial to the prince. Don’t be deceived by his charming words, he stabbed one of my cousins for a few unkind, brutish remarks. I don’t want to know what he’ll do when he hears your fire-laced words.” If it weren’t such a serious situation, Tyrion might have been amused to hear you use your wit against a prince, but the prince’s history with the Lannisters was anything but a joke.

“I’m sure she can handle herself. Hawks have talons after all.” Shae teased, but squeezed your arm affectionately. You offered a kind smile, but you still loathed this plan.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Tyrion rubbed his temple like the very thought of you getting into trouble was enough to send him over the edge.

You relented and chuckled a little before placing a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “I will be on my best behavior, but only because you will worry yourself ill.” You teased. “It can’t be too bad if I just deliver your message and leave. I better get going though. Can’t leave a prince waiting.” You snorted. As if you cared what a prince thought.

————————

Oberyn Martell lied in his temporary bed at the brothel, Ellaria Sand at his right, a blond haired boy on his left. He was the picture of lustful bliss, his golden chest glistened as the small rays of light entered the sinful den. But the prince was quiet deep in thought as he started out into the empty space before them. All the pleasure the brothel had to offer could not break his focus.

“Your thoughts are too loud, my prince.” Ellaria chided as she placed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me.”

Even then, Oberyn still could not break his thoughts of you, but he ran a hand through his paramour’s raven curls in acknowledgment. “I think I found our third partner.”

Next Chapter

[softboywriting]

Mi Alma | Santiago “Pope” Garcia

Summary: After years of tension, you and Santiago finally get together at your best friend’s wedding. [Film: Triple Frontier] [Post-Film] [Flirting] [Making Out] 

Word Count: 6.7k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Frankie and Tiia's wedding is unlike any other you've been to, and you've been to a few. You're the last of your friends to get married, if it ever happens. You're picky with your men, have high standards. It's fine. You don't mind being alone for a while. Drama and games are not in the cards for you so you won't settle for someone. But this isn't about you and your love life, or so you think.

The couple was never quite normal. Frankie coming from a Catholic upbringing and since shunning it to become his own man and follow his heart. Tiia has always been a free spirit and very much into the unknown and world around her. They make an interesting yet perfect match and their wedding is no run of the mill church ceremony with a bunch of people in pews for hours on end. No. They have quite the opposite.

For starters the wedding is outdoors, a forested area just behind the house Frankie and Tiia bought last year. It's beautiful, the trees in full bloom, greenery as far as the eye can see. There wasn't a ton of prep to be done for the ceremony, just setting up chairs and arranging flowers among the natural foliage. Orange and yellow, those are Tiia's colors. Roses, carnations, peonies, you name it. She took everything the florist could get her in those colors. Frankie didn't care, he said he would love anything she loves. There is an arch made of wood that a friend of yours specially crafted just for the happy couple. It's their wedding gift from him, as Tiia will put it in her garden after the ceremony.  

The day Tiia showed you her dress you knew that the wedding would be magical. It's non traditional of course, very Greek goddess meets fairy queen. Draped white and cream fabric, gold accents, braided embellishments. It's incredible and she looks completely stunning in it. It isn't until the day of the wedding that you see her veil, natural colored faux antlers made into a crown like setting atop her head. She is beautiful.

You find yourself on the day of the wedding getting ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. You've not been told who you are to walk with. Tiia said she didn't tell any of the bridesmaids who they're walking with because she didn't want to cause any problems. Honestly you're not sure what that means, you only know that your friend Caiti would have a problem if she was paired up with Benny because of a past relationship. You check your reflection in the small mirror decor beside the door you're meant to go out. You look fine. Good. Great actually. You twist your finger around a loose bit of hair by your temple and smooth the top of the dress that matches Tiia's flowy one. Damn good.

"You're up." Says Tiia's brother, opening the patio doors for you.

You take a deep breath, pull up the hem of your dress and step out. The plan is that you meet your groomsman at the end of the wrap around deck and you walk to the forest together. You can't help but wonder who it will be. Any of the guys would be great, you're familiar with them all. Benny? He is single currently. Will? No, his fiance is in the bridal party. Frankie's brother? Maybe but...no. Santiago. Oh Lord have mercy. If it's Santiago you're going to have to reach deep into yourself and find some inner calm. Every time the two of you are together with the crew it's like fire. It is undeniable the way you connect but you have never- shit.

At the end of the deck is Santiago. He looks insanely...tempting. You say a prayer to any force listening. Did he have to look so good? Tailored slacks, a deep blue button down, no tie and sleeve rolled up, even the watch on his wrist is sexy. Fucking hell you could just turn around and run back into the house. Demand another partner.

"Hermosa..." Santiago mutters as you approach.

"What's that?"

Santiago snaps his eyes to yours and smiles warmly. "Nothing, I was just thinking out loud." He offers his arm and you take it.

"What does that mean? Hermosa?"

He leads you carefully down the steps into the grass. "It means beautiful."

"Oh...oh!" You flush, heat rising from your chest. "Thank you."

Santiago chuckles softly and lifts your hand to kiss it. "Every woman should be told they look beautiful."

"You're a sweet talker today."

"I've had a drink or two. Frankie and I had a talk before the wedding, pre marital nerves."

"I can't imagine. I've never gotten that far into a relationship."

Santiago's eyes meet yours as you glance over to gauge his reaction. He raises his eyebrows and you raise yours. It's always like this. Silent conversations. They're louder than any words you've ever exchanged. "Are you excited for Tiia?"

"Through the roof. She hasn't shut up about Frankie since they met. I'm glad she's found her person."

"Me too." He stops as you arrive at the archway. "You never know when you'll meet the right person."

"Yeah, I guess so."

He steps away, touch lingering on your hand as he parts. "Who knows, maybe you've already met them."

You look at him and he says nothing more, just gives a little smile. He knows exactly what he's doing. Fueling the fire. That's it. This wedding, you're getting Santiago Garcia.

______________________

The entire ceremony you stared at each other and it is unlike ever before, there was no conversation in your eyes. It was just a game of who could out stare who. Until Frankie began reading his vows, then Santiago's gaze changed. It flicked between you and Frankie, soft and loving.

There were tears, actual tears when Frankie began to talk about how he felt about Tiia and their bond. All of the guys were crying, proud of their best friend to be so happy and excited to take this step in his life. But Santiago...he couldn't look away from you. You try not to look away from Tiia and Frankie, knowing they deserve your undivided attention and not Santiago. It's hard. Santiago's eyes...they're undeniable, irresistible, commanding. He is making it hard not to think about what it would be like to be in your friends shoes, or lack thereof because she is actually barefoot under that dress. What would a wedding with Santiago look like? A beautiful tailored suit, beard grown out a bit for sure, messy curls, bowtie or regular tie. Hmm. And your dress, white or blush? Formal or fun? You've never thought about your own wedding and yet here you are just-

You snap out of your dream world when the guests begin to clap, the ceremony is over. You raise your hands and clap, smiling at your friends. Santiago gestures for you to join him as the bride and groom walk back down the path. You're meant to follow after, being in the wedding party and all.

Santiago's hand slides across your lower back the moment you're in reach. You swear you can feel your skin tingle all the way up to the back of your neck. "That was incredible."

"It was a very pretty ceremony."

"Are you feeling well?"

You frown and look at him, he raises his eyebrows. "Yes? Do I look ill?"

He shakes his head. "Not in the slightest. You looked...distracted."

"Can't say I wasn't."

Santiago gives a soft knowing hum in response and nothing more. Kindling. He's throwing kindling into this fire now. The son of a bitch. No. You would never call him that. He's too good. "Ride with me?" He says and you realize you've walked together to the front of the house where everyone is parked.  

"I-...Benny."

"Benny?"

"I promised Benny I'd ride with him. I'm supposed to be his DD tonight and care for his truck should he get a little out of hand."

Santiago smiles softly. "I see. I'll meet you at the hall then?"

You nod.

He lays a hand on your cheek and presses a kiss to the opposite side. "Drive safe."

Your heart threatens to explode and you're stuck standing there like a deer in headlights. There is no way you're going to survive this wedding.

_____________________

The reception is when things really kick off, it usually is though isn't it. The reception is held at a party rental hall in town, their house not being ready for so many guests and a large dinner and dancing. You ride with Benny, having to just take a moment and figure out what your next move is with Santiago.

"You and Pope, huh?" Benny says, looking over at you. "When's that happening?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on anyone with eyes could see you two tryin’ to undress each other up there."

You stifle a noise of protest because you know that if you make a scene about it then Benny will be even nosier. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yeah alright sweetheart." Benny laughs to himself, a quick breathy little chuckle. "If a girl looked at me like that for an hour, we'd be kicking boots in the back of this truck right now."

"You're gross Benny."

"Never said I wasn't." He grins and does a little tongue click. "Pope is a good man, the best I know. Give'em a chance."

"Sure, thanks for the pep talk Benny."

"Anytime sweetheart."

Once you arrive at the reception you immediately run into Santiago. No, literally you smack into him when you step in the doors. He seemed to be on his way outside as you were going in. His familiar spicy cologne flls your nose and your eyes cross for a moment. You know it's him before he speaks, before you see his face.

His hand comes up, steadying you with it on your back. "Easy there, honey."

Honey. Fuck. You're so fucked. "Sorry, I was just trying to go in."

"Mmm. I forgot my phone in the car, I'll be back."

"I'll be seated?" You say awkwardly.

He chuckles and steps away from you. "Go on, don't wait for me."

"I wasn't going to?" You step in and look around for your table. It should be near the front. You look for the names and sure enough there you are right next to... Santiago. "Great."

"Is something wrong?"

You jump and Will chuckles. "No, I'm fine."

"Where'd Pope go?"

"His phone."

Will nods. "Have you seen Benny?"

You shrug. "We drove together but I've no idea where he went. Check the bar?"

"I checked there, I bet he's out back." Will sighs and heads for the emergency exit door that's propped open at the far end of the building.

You take a seat and Santiago returns, sliding behind you and taking his seat next to you. The chairs are close, the table being a little small for the amount of people seated at it. You can feel Santiago's warmth, his scent filling your nose. Oh how you love that cologne. It's one of two he's worn since you met and this one just nails it right on the head. If you knew the brand you would buy it and drown yourself in it.

His hand comes down on your thigh and you feel like the world has stopped and begun to burn around you. It is absolutely no mistake, he knows what he's doing. His fingers flex against the loose fabric of the dress and it falls open a bit along the side split, exposing your skin beneath.

Will stands from the end of your table and taps his glass a few times. He is going to make a speech. Of course, it's Will and he is the best speech giver you've ever met. You try to distract yourself, wondering how many wedding speeches he has given. If you ask him he will know. If you ask him how many of anything he has or does he will know. You smile to yourself, eyes flicking to Santiago. Will is the reason any of this is happening. If he hadn't given Santiago the coordinates to the ravine with Lorea's money, Santiago would have never gone after it, never gifted the wedding fund to Tiia and Frankie.

Santiago's hand shifts and you're acutely aware of its position further up your leg, his pinky finger brushing your tender inner thigh. Should you tell him to stop? He didn't ask to touch you, and you didn't tell him yes or no. Did he need to ask though? Honestly you don't mind aside from the fact that it's driving you crazy. He must know what he is doing to you, how you feel. He has always been physically affectionate with everyone, hugging, cheek kisses, hands on arms and backs. His love language is very obviously touching.

Will begins to wrap up, and you raise your glass with everyone else to toast. Santiago grabs his glass with his non dominant hand, not letting your thigh go. "To many years of love, happiness and joy. Mr. and Mrs. Morales!"

"I'm up next." Santiago says, giving you a squeeze that makes your stomach jump.

You watch him stand and he taps his glass. You have no idea why but your heart is pounding in your chest. His ass is in perfect view, his thighs...oh his thighs. You decide to get a little retribution for the thigh touching and you lay your hand on the back of his leg, just above the bend of his knee. It's not much, just a gentle touch and nowhere near sexual. You're sure he's burning up though.

"Tiia, the day Frankie met you I knew his fate was sealed. I had not once seen my brother so engrossed in a woman than when he talked about you. When you and I finally met, and I saw that red hair of yours, I knew there was something special. Hermana, eres fuego. You have made Frankie a better man, a calmer and more gentle man. Without you I don't know where he would be." Santiago raises his glass higher. "I hope to find a love like yours someday. Cheers to new family, life and a beautiful union!"

Your hand falls from his leg as he sits down and he slides his back over your thigh. "That was a nice speech," you whisper.

"Thank you. I know it wasn't nearly as long and detailed as Will's but I tried." He swipes his thumb back and forth. "Even if I had a little bit of a distraction."

You smile and give him an innocent look.

"Malo..." He mutters softly and tears his gaze from yours to Benny who's standing at the table opposite.

You reach out and run your hand over his shoulder, settling with it on the back of his neck. Your fingers slip into the curls there and he lets out a subtle shaky breath that you don't miss for a second. Two can participate in his game of touches and you're going to play hardball.

Benny makes his speech, short but sweet and meaningful. Tom's wife is up next. Before she stands you make eye contact with Tiia. You could feel her stare before you caught it. She gives a little smirk.

"Honey, you're going to make me fall asleep." Santiago whispers, ducking his head close to you after a minute or two.

"That's not quite my goal."

He slips his hand down your inner thigh and you feel heat swell between your legs. "What is your goal?"

"What is your goal, Santiago."

"I-"

"Thank you everyone for coming and for your well wishes. It means the world to Tiia and I that we're surrounded by so much love." Frankie says and everyone cheers softly. "Let's have dinner and cake!"

"Bride or groom?" Santiago asks, close to your ear.

"H-Huh?"

"The cakes. Bride or groom's cake?" He points to the table with the two cakes on it. "I'll get you a piece."

You try to remember what kind they both are but you're drawing a blank. All you can focus on is Santiago and you feel bad. This day should be about your friends and here you are wetting your fucking pants for Santiago Garcia. Christ.

"Honey?" He purrs and your mouth falls open as he squeezes your thigh. "I'll get one of each."

"Y-yeah. "

Santiago stands and leaves the table. The lack of heat on your leg is a shock. You're still burning up but it's nowhere near as bad as when he's close. Tiia comes over and leans against your table, she grins knowingly at you.

"How's it going over here?"

"Fine? Should it not be?"

"Is he being nice?"

"Santi?"

"Santi?"

You flush and lean your head into your hand. "Santiago. Yes, he's being nice. Why? He is always a sweetheart."

Santiago returns with two plates of cake and sets them on the table. He grabs Tiia's cheek and gives her a kiss to the temple. "Hermana."

"Problema." Tiia giggles and Santiago rolls his eyes.

"I am not trouble." He takes his seat beside you and gives a pointed look at Frankie nearby laughing with Will and Benny. "Hay problema."

Tiia pushes Santiago's head and he laughs. "Frankie is not trouble! He's a good boy."

"Mmmm." Santiago says, raising his eyebrows. "Good boys don't have the most fun." He catches your gaze and winks.

"You're insufferable. Enjoy the cake, lovely." Tiia says to you and heads off to meet her new husband.

Santiago dips his fork into the slice of white and yellow frosted cake, the bride's cake, and brings it up to your lips. "Try it?"

"I can feed myself," you giggle and he bumps the frosted bit against your lips. You open and take the cake in. It's delicious and you remember now. It's an apple spiced white cake with caramel cream center.

"Good?" He asks, cutting a bit for himself. "Oh wow that's amazing."

You nod and reach for your own fork but Santiago pushes it away. "Hey-"

"I got it." He smirks, cutting a slice of the groom's cake. Chocolate with butter rum filling. "Open up."

"Give me my fork, Santiago."

He shakes his head and you reach for it. He knocks your hand away and holds your wrist loosely. "Ah, I said open up."

"Santi..."

His eyes go darker than you've ever seen and you imagine they must be lust filled to be so heavy. "Open up." He says once more, but this time with more authority.

You open your mouth obediently and he presses the fork down gently to your tongue as he slides it out. "Mmmm."

"Better than the last one?" He asks, cutting another piece and holding it up for you. You take it in as well and he smiles.

This is far too intimate. What the fuck are you doing? You're not even together, you're not dating, neither of you have explicitly said this was happening. Not to mention you're at your friend's wedding, in front of people and he's... he's driving you insane.

"Excuse me." You mutter softly, pushing away from the table and leaving a very confused Santiago behind. You head for the emergency exit and take a deep breath of the cool spring air as you step outside. You need to breathe.

___________________

Minutes tick by as you sit on the fence post that blocks a patio area from the parking lot. You figured Santiago would have come for you by now, but you didn't expect it. He's too sweet to impede upon your personal space when he knows you definitely needed it because of his actions. Footsteps behind you draw your attention away from the passing traffic on the road nearby. It's Will.

"What're you doing out here all alone?"

"Getting some fresh air."

"I can understand that." Will takes a seat next to you. "I saw you head out here earlier. I figured I'd give you a little bit before coming to check on you."

"Thanks. Am I missing anything?"

"Tiia is going to throw the bouquet soon. Do you want to catch it?"

You laugh softly to yourself. Do you want to? Do you want to be the next friend to marry? You're the only one not married besides Benny. The rest of the guests are family or friends who are married. "Maybe Benny should give it a try."

Will snorts and you laugh at the sound. "You'd need tempered steel to tie that man down. He's too wild, too free to settle down."

"Yeah, Benny is...Benny."

Will taps your arm with the back of his hand. "C'mon, let's go see who gets the bouquet."

"Alright." You slide off the fence and head back into the hall with Will.

Inside you see a crowd of people near the bride and grooms table. Tiia has her back to the crowd and you watch as she swings the bundle of flowers backwards. There is a collective gasp and you strain to see who caught the flowers.

As the crowd clears you see Santiago standing there with the bouquet. He's laughing, saying something to Frankie's aunt nearby and then he sees you. Your heart races. He gestures for you to come to him.

"Why did you-"

"For you." He holds the bouquet up and kisses your cheek. "I thought you might want them."

"Thank you. They're pretty."

"Are you okay?"

"Huh? Yeah, why- oh. When I went outside. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just run out on you." You lick your lips and look down from his gaze. "I just needed some air."

Santiago cups your cheek. "Hey, look at me."

You look at him and it's a mistake. Your heart pounds, threatening to break through your ribs. "Yes?"  

He leans in whispers, "Did I go too far earlier?"

"The cake?"

He nods.

"It was unexpected, but no." You can feel a flush rising in your chest. "I mean you've always been affectionate but we haven't really...talked about it."

Santiago chuckles softly. "I suppose we haven't. It's always been there but we've never acknowledged it. Are you uncomfortable? I know I'm a few years older and-"

"Santiago."

"Yes?"

"We're in the middle of a wedding. Maybe we should discuss this later? More privately?" You look around at the crowd that's pretty much dispersed.

He cracks a sheepish smile and tucks a bit of hair behind your ear, gliding his fingertips along your cheek before bumping your lip with his thumb. "Mas tarde, cariña," he murmurs.

You lick your lip where he touched and he doesn't miss it, eyes snapping to your mouth. "You know that I know limited Spanish."

"I said we'll talk later." He puts his arm around you and guides you toward your table. "Let's clear the way for the married couple's first dance."

_____________________

The first dance doesn't happen right away. The removal of the garter happens first. For those unfamiliar, it's like the tossing of the bouquet but generally for the men. The husband removes his wife's garter, a thin band of fabric worn around the thigh, and tosses it to the crowd. The one who catches it is said to be the next to marry. It's a symbol of good luck.

You watch as Tiia takes a seat in a chair brought out to the center floor. She is bright pink and you can't help but laugh a little. Frankie comes around the chair, taking her hand and kissing it gently. He says something you can't make out, but Tiia smiles.

"Come on Frankie!" Benny hollers.

"Oh be quiet Benny!" Frankie quips, flipping off his friend. "Not like you want it!"

"The hell I don't!"

Everyone laughs.

Santiago's hand slides over your knee, pushing the dress aside and allowing it to fall open. He can't keep his hands off of you it seems.

Frankie kneels down and pushes Tiia's dress up to expose her legs.

Santiago's hand inches up your leg, massaging his fingertips tenderly into the soft skin. You spare him a glance and his focus seems to be on the married couple like everyone else.

Frankie leans in and grabs the garter with his teeth and the guests cheer him on. You attempt to clap but your brain is elsewhere, short circuiting on the arousal nerves between your legs.

"Do you want it?" Santiago purrs in your ear and you shiver. Why did that have to sound like such a loaded question. Do you want what? Him? The garter? His attention?

"W-what?"

"The garter."

You turn your head to look at him and reply when suddenly you're smacked in the face with something. You jump, startled by the sudden sensation, and look down at the table where the white garter is sitting on it.

Somewhere Benny is hollering wildly, and Frankie says something along the lines of how you're the lucky lady. You don't hear it really because Santiago grabs the garter and rubs it between his fingers, smiling at you playfully. His other hand is still on your leg, farther up and dangerously close to your underwear.

"I'd love to see you in this." He says, fingers flexing on your skin. "And nothing else."

"Santiago!" You whisper sharply and he leans in close.

His lips meet yours and your heart stops. The world stops. His hand leaves your thigh and slides around to your hip, the other cradles your head, angling your face for better access.

It's like years of tension have finally broken and now it's coming out like breach in a dam. You reach for him, not sure what to grab but you land on his hair and his shoulder. He deepens the kiss, tongue pushing past your lips to roll against yours. He tastes like minty gum and you can't get enough.

He grips your hips with both hands and hauls you over onto his lap. The chair creaks under the weight of two bodies. You can't care, this is a dream come true. You don't want to stop kissing him because if you do, it feels like it might never happen again.

"Baby," Santiago groans into your mouth as you roll your hips down against his lap, desperate for some release. "Baby we gotta stop."

"No," you lick into his mouth desperately and he chases your lips, biting gently to slow you down.

His hand finds your hair and grips firmly, pulling you back. "Listen to me."

You stare at him, eyes locked on to his. They're so full of promises of what's to come. He looks as wrecked as you do, you're sure. "Yes?"

He grins slowly, leaning in for a soft kiss. "God you're beautiful like this."

You try to return the kiss, chasing his lips as he pulls back but his grip in your hair is firm.

"We're still at the wedding." He says softly. "I don't think we should be grinding on each other in such a public setting."

You lean back, settling yourself back on his thighs. Reality comes creeping in, a cold rush of embarrassment rising up your spine. He's right. You're at the wedding still, everyone can see you right now. You got so caught up in the euphoria that you forgot where you were.

"Santiago, you son of a bitch." Benny says from behind you. "You finally did it."

You turn and look back while Santiago leans over to see Benny. "Go away."

"Oh I will, I'll leave you two to face suck like teenagers. I just wanted to say it's about time. How was it?"

"Benny." Santiago says warningly.

You look between the two of them. "How was the kiss?"

Benny nods.

"Good, really good? Why?"

Santiago groans.

"Do you know why we call him Pope?" Benny asks and you shake your head. "It's because he brings you closer to God when he gets his hands on you."

"Benny! Fuck off!" Santiago shouts and throws a fork on the table at him. Benny dodges the projectile and runs off laughing. "God damn menace."

You run your hand through his curls, brushing your thumb over a little spot of grays peeking through. "Is that true?"

"Is what true? The Pope thing?"

"Yeah. Is that why they call you Pope?"

Santiago smiles softly. "It is. It's stupid and childish but-"

"I like it." You slide off his lap and lean in close to his ear. "You took me closer to God with a kiss, I can only imagine what more will be like." You grab his hand and before he can respond you step back, pulling his arm up. "Dance with me?"

_____________________

You and Santiago dance for a long time, slow and sweet. After about the tenth song he kisses your temple and says he needs to take a seat, his knees are killing him. You part from him and he goes to sit with Will and Frankie who are near the bar. You turn and head to the bride and grooms table to sit with Tiia.

"Hey you," Tiia says with a playful smirk. "I thought you were gonna get eaten alive earlier."

"I'm sorry." You sink down into Frankie's chair and she laughs. "I just lost my mind for a few minutes there. Was everyone staring?"

"No, everyone got up to dance and get food from the buffett. I noticed, obviously, because I've been watching you all night."

"Creepy."

Tiia pushes your shoulder. "Oh shut up. I set you up, but I never could have guessed this outcome."

"You set me up?"

"Yeah? I picked Santiago to be your best man. I knew the two of you have had chemistry since you met. I just gave you a little nudge in the right direction." She looks smug as she takes a sip of her wine. "You're welcome."

"You're a troublemaker."

"Matchmaker, thank you."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe too good of a match maker. I sucked face while you had your first dance."

She laughs, nearly spitting out her wine. "I don't need everyone to watch me dance with my husband to validate our marriage. You're my best friend, the fact that you are just as happy on my wedding day as I am, that means the world to me. You deserve a good man, and Santiago is a very good man."

"You really aren't mad I didn't pay attention?"

"Nope, because I can guarantee you I'll be all over Frankie at your wedding."

"My wedding? Yeah we'll be in our sixties before that happens." You pick at a spot on the front of your dress, directing your focus elsewhere in hopes of ending this conversation. "No one wants to marry me."

Tiia kicks you. "Bullshit. If you asked Santiago right now to run away and get married at a little chapel in Vegas he'd say yes."

"No he wouldn't. He's not reckless."

"Yes, he is. When it comes to you there is nothing he wouldn't do."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," she says mockingly. "Do you have any idea what he has told Frankie?"

You narrow your eyes. "You're lying."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Once. A birthday present that I figured out."

Tiia rolls her eyes. "That doesn't count."

"Why would Frankie tell you about what he and Santiago discuss?"

"Because I'm nosey and I ask. Plus, you're my best friend and you two have obvious chemistry."

"So what did he say?"

Tiia points to Santiago as he makes his way across the room. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Tiia!"

"What's my two favorite women chatting about huh?" Santiago smiles and hands you a glass.

You look down into the glass. You can't drink today, you're Benny's designated driver.

"It's non alcoholic, don't worry."

"Thank you."

"She doesn't need alcohol to get a little crazy." Tiia teases, elbowing you from her seat. "She has a better drug, right Pope?"

Santiago chuckles. "You're never going to let us live that moment down huh?"

"Never. I was surprised you didn't just take her to the bathroom."

"Tiia!" You shove her and she cackles. "God!"

"I'm teasing you. Seriously, if you guys wanna get out of here and have a little fun I'll get someone to take Benny home." Tiia looks across the way at the table where Benny is telling some animated story. "Or he can sleep on the couch at me and Frankie's house. We'll drop him off before we go to the hotel."

Santiago shakes his head. "I'm not stepping out on your wedding, and I'm sorry for the behavior earlier. It's not the right time or place."

"You two are a match. She said the same thing when she came over. I'm not mad, I'm happy you're happy." Tiia stands and walks around the table to stand before Santiago. She lays a hand on his cheek before giving it a hard pat. "Problema."

"Un poco."

"Oh no you're big trouble, not little trouble." She says and shoves his head back playfully. "Go, make my girl happy."

Santiago smiles and kisses her forehead. "You heard the lady." He offers his hand to you. "Can I take you home?"

"One more dance?"

"I think I can manage that."

You follow Santiago out onto the dancefloor, hand in his as he lays his other on your waist. A slow song comes on, one you've heard a few times on the radio but never paid much attention to.

"I'm sorry about earlier." He says softly out of nowhere.

"I'm just as much to blame."

"I just got a little ahead of myself, like Benny said, I felt like a horny teenager."

You giggle and lean your head on his shoulder. "It's been a while, and we built this tension to a boiling point. We were bound to snap someday."

Santiago runs his hand up your back and cradles your neck loosely. "Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Yes, but I don't mind hearing it again."

He drops his head to your ear and places a little kiss on the outer shell. "You'd look even more beautiful in my bedroom."

A hot flush warms your cheeks. "Santi...cool it."

"I can't help it." He grins and you hear rather than see it. "I just want to eat you up."

"We can stay a bit longer." You kiss his throat and he lets out a quiet groan that you relish in, grinning big ear to ear against his skin. "It'll do you good to wait. You'll want it more."

_____________________

The sound of a cell phone ringing rips you from a deep sleep. It's unfamiliar, not your ringtone but shrill and annoying nonetheless. The room is bright, the sun shining through the cream colored blinds and past the sheer curtains. Everything is familiar but like you had seen it in a dream, nothing was quite the same as you remember. You sit up and look around. Yes. It's the same as last night, the lighting makes things look different is all.

"Make it stop," Santiago groans from beside you.

"I don't know where it is." You pat around the blankets, trying to find the source of noise. "It's your phone."

"Fuck." He sits up and you get a full view of his strong, bare back in the bright daylight. There are a few scars, but one big one just behind his shoulder gets your attention. It looks strange, like a paint splatter of pink skin against his tan complexion.

You reach out to touch the scar, trace it curiously. What on Earth made a scar like that. "Santi?"

"Just a minute baby." He leans over and your hand falls to the bed. He comes back up with the phone in hand and swipes the screen to deny the call.

You lay back and he crawls under the covers beside you.

"Now, good morning." He grins, touching your nose and you sniffle. "I hope you're not too sore."

"Me?" You giggle, rolling to face him head on. "I'd be more worried about you."

Santiago chuckles. "Because of my knees?"

"Yeah and your back." You slide your hand over his shoulder and explore the scar with your fingertips. "What's this one from?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Mmhmm."

"A bullet." He takes your hand away and threads his fingers between yours. "A sniper when I was twenty seven. We were on a mission somewhere in the Ukraine. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and boom." He chuckles softly. "It went straight through. I suppose I'm lucky, they were clearly aiming for something more vital and missed."

You play with his fingers and he watches. What do you say? Sorry? Wow? You know Santiago and the guys are ex military special forces. You know they all have their scars and close call stories. You've heard the others tell them over and over but Santiago...he has always been quiet.

"It's a lot to take in." He murmurs, bringing your knuckles up to kiss.

You laugh softly, more to yourself than anything. "I broke my leg falling out of a tree once."

Santiago chuckles. "Bet that hurt." He kisses your knuckles again and lets his lips linger. "It's okay if you're not sure how to respond."

"Thank you," you mutter sheepishly.

His phone starts ringing again and he sighs. He rolls over and grabs it, bringing it back to lay between the two of you. "It's Frankie."

"Answer it."

"Should I? You don't mind?"

You shake your head. "He might need you."

Santiago swipes to answer and presses the phone to his ear. "Buenos dias pendejo."

You smile and he gives you a cheeky grin. That's a little bit of Spanish you do know. "Be nice."

He mouths a quick, 'No' before speaking again. "Why are you calling me after your wedding night? Shouldn't you and Tiia be sleeping? I didn't give you that money to wake me up at the crack of dawn when you're meant to be boarding a plane to Hawaii for your honeymoon in a few hours."

"Hawaii sounds good." You snuggle down into the blankets, imagining the warm sun on your body.

"Yes she's fine." Santiago chuckles softly. "Did you want to talk to her?"

You raise your eyebrows and he gives you a wink.

"Here you go." He passes you the phone and you press it to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Did that dick make you stupid?" Tiia asks through a laugh.

"Shut up!" You laugh, rolling over onto your back. Santiago's arm snakes across your waist and he pulls you close, face in your shoulder. "I'll hang up on you."

"Really though, did you guys have a good night? I just wanted Frankie to call and make sure you got home okay."

"Yes, we got home okay. It was a good night."

Santiago hums against your skin, biting playfully at your jaw. "It could be a better morning."

"Which one of you said I love you first?"

"Tiia."

"I know it happened."

"Goodbye Tiia, I'm hanging up now."

"Oh you-"

You toss the phone into the pillows and close your eyes. Santiago lazily kisses your neck, his short beard giving you a bit of a burn on your shoulder.

"It was me." He whispers between kisses.

"Hmm?"

"I said it first."

"You could hear her?" You shift around and lay so you're face to face agan.

He nods. “Do you remember?"

"Mmm. You said I love you, mallma?"

He presses a kiss to your lips. "It's mi alma. Do you want to know what that means?"

"Yes."

"It means, my soul." He runs a hand through your hair and brings you close for another kiss. "It's a pet name for someone you really care deeply for."

You grip his back and press your forehead to his. You give a sheepish smile. "How do you say I love you again?"

"Te amo."

"Te amo, Santiago."

He grins and chuckles softly. "We'll work on the accent."

"Good thing I have the best teacher."

"Yes you do."

"Until then," You tuck your face into his neck and he threads a hand in your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too."

End

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Header by delicate-venus 

Dedication: To delicate-venus, because you let me write your dream wedding for you with your dream man as inspiration for this fic. 

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*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[omgrachwrites]

Teacher Trapped - Sharon Carter

Pairing: Sharon Carter x Female Reader

Summary: Your high school students are sick and tired of watching you and the music teacher, Sharon Carter pine for each other so they take matters into their own hands. Teacher au

Warnings: so much fluff, swearing, probably ooc

Words: 1724

A/N: I think you guys have realised that I no longer have a proper writing schedule, they stress me out so I’m just gonna post when I feel like it, so I hope that’s okay! I got this idea for this au when I was in work and I was so excited to write it! This is my first time properly writing for a female character and I’m sorry if I’ve butchered Sharon’s character. Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

There came a knock on the door of your classroom as you finished the English Literature display for your 10th graders. Without looking at the door, you adjusted the Lord of the Flies poster and you called out, “come on in!” you expected that it was one of your students; some of them arrived early because it was the only time that their parents could drop them off. That was why you were always here so early, it turned out to be quite handy to get some extra work done.

However, when you turned to see whoever was lingering in the doorway, your cheeks flushed when you saw who it was, “good morning, Y/N,” the beautiful blonde woman smiled, she was holding a box of donuts and an extra cup of coffee. It was Sharon Carter, the music teacher and she also happened to be the woman that you had a crush on.

“Hi, Sharon,” you smiled, finally finding your voice, “what are you doing here so early?” you were probably imagining it but you could have sworn that her cheeks deepened ever so slightly with a blush.

“I’ve um got some work to do before the kids come in and I wasn’t sure whether you’d had breakfast or not. You’re always here so early,” she grinned as she placed the steaming cup of coffee on your desk and lifted the lid off the box of donuts.

You chewed on your bottom lip; you really shouldn’t be eating so much sugar this early in the morning. However, the gorgeous smell of the deep fried treat filled your classroom and your resolve considerably weakened, “oh go on then,” you smiled shyly when Sharon laughed, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she did so, “thank you,” you grinned as you picked out the one that had cinnamon brown sugar generously sprinkled over the top.

“You’re welcome,” Sharon shot you a sweet smile.

“God, that’s amazing,” you groaned as you took a bite out of the delicious treat.

Sharon flushed and looked away from you, running a hand through her long hair, “I’d better get going, I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You felt disappointment ping in your chest but you pushed it away and offered her a small smile, “bye, Sharon.”

As Sharon walked out, a group of your students walked in and took one look at your flushed face as they made their way to their seats, “good morning, Miss,” one of them smirked.

“Morning guys, have you had breakfast yet?” you asked as you grabbed cartons of orange juice and protein bars out of your cupboard, it wasn’t much but you liked to make sure that all your students ate in the morning.

“Thanks, Miss Y/L/N,” one of the boys smiled before he piped up again, “do you like Miss Carter?”

“Of course I do! She’s an excellent teacher,” you felt butterflies in your stomach and you willed yourself not to blush.

“Uh-huh,” your students sounded unconvinced as they cheekily smirked at each other.

Over the next couple of days, Sharon came to see you in the mornings and you went to visit her too. It seemed as though yours and Sharon’s students were getting sick of the constant blushy smiles and the lingering pining looks that were exchanged between you and Sharon. Unbeknownst to the both of you, your students out their heads together and concocted a plan to get you both together.

On Friday afternoon, one of your students raised her hand, “can I use the bathroom, please, Miss?”

“Of course,” you smiled at her as you grabbed a laminated hall pass out of your desk and handed it to her, “there you go.”

“Thanks Miss!” she beamed at you as she got up from her seat. You completely missed the way she grinned with the rest of the class before she walked out into the corridor.

A couple of minutes later a boy that you recognised from Sharon’s class knocked on your open door, “can I help you?” you asked with a smile.

“Uh, Miss Carter was wondering whether she could meet you in the empty English classroom down the hall after school. She wants to go over some work with you.”

You silently questioned why a music teacher would need to go over some work with an English teacher but you didn’t read too much into it, “of course, thank you for the message.”

At the end of the day, you and Sharon both arrived at the spare classroom at the same time, you smiled as her brown eyes twinkled as she grinned back at you, “what work did you want to go over with me?” you asked.

Sharon frowned at you, raising an eyebrow, “I was about to ask you the same thing,” okay, now you were confused.

“What are you talking about? You sent one of your students to tell me to meet you here.”

She shook her head, “no! That was you! What the fuck is going on?”

It was at that moment that the principal Sam Wilson – your best friend – walked out of the room, grinning like a Cheshire cat, “it’s ready for you guys.”

You and Sharon exchanged a confused glance as you walked into the classroom and you gasped at what you saw. A desk had been set up with candles, two steaming plates of pizza and two wine glasses full of red liquid. Yours and Sharon’s students were standing behind the desk, looking nervous.

“What’s going on guys?” Sharon asked, trying to sound stern.

A jock stepped forward, “we were getting so sick and tired of watching you two pine for each other. So we took matters into our own hands and pooled our allowance together to get you some food and Principal Wilson helped us set it up.”

It seemed that Sharon was as surprised as you as you both stared blankly at the students; butterflies were wreaking havoc in your stomach. What if Sharon rejected this idea? You didn’t even know if she dated women. Though, you were touched that they’d spent their own money to ensure that you would be able to have a date with one another.

“You like her don’t you?” a girl piped up.

“Of course I do!” you both said in unison before turning to look at each other when you realised the question hadn’t been directed at anyone in particular. There was a ghost of a smirk on Sharon’s face but her blush contradicted it.

“Looks like our work here is done,” someone snickered and you and Sharon both snapped out of it and turned back to look at your students.

“Thanks guys.”

“You’re welcome, have a good time,” the jock that spoke up before waved at you both as the students filed out of the room, leaving you and Sharon alone.

“Are you nervous?” Sharon laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” you lied, smiling at her as she gestured at the table.

“Then shall we?” you nodded and you both sat down. Searching for something to do, you reached for the wine glass and looked at the suspicious liquid in the glass and tentatively raised it to your lips. You winced and coughed slightly at the sweet taste.

“It’s Grape Kool-Aid,” you coughed and Sharon burst out laughing as she took a sip of her own before she smiled over at you so sweetly that you momentarily forgot how to breath.

“So, you date women?”

You nodded as you fiddled with your fingers, “I take it that you do too?”

Sharon smiled, “yeah, and I like you.”

Happiness fizzed through your blood when you heard that your affections weren’t one sided, “you do?” you asked lamely.

“Well, of course. I don’t bring coffee and breakfast to everyone you know, and you’re completely fucking gorgeous,” she smirked, raising an eyebrow and you felt yourself relax as your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“Good to know, I like you too.”

“Good to know,” she mimicked you before her eyes flickered down to your lips, “fuck it,” she muttered and leaned over the table to kiss you.

You gasped against her lips as you cupped her cheeks, tasting the Kool-Aid on her lips as she wrapped a hand in your hair, tugging slightly, causing pleasure to run through your body. After a couple of minutes, Sharon pulled away and grinned at you, “see no need to be nervous anymore, because I know that you were, Y/N.”

Sharon’s kiss had seemed to work wonders and the both of you talked easily as you ate your delicious pizza, “who did you go to prom with?”

You groaned as you took another sip of your drink as you relived the memory, “I was a loner in high school, and there was no way that anybody was taking me to prom. So, Sam took me.”

“Sam Wilson?” Sharon laughed as she rested her chin on her hand as she listened to you.

You rolled your eyes as you nodded, “yeah well you know he’s my best friend, his girlfriend had just broke up with him so he took me to prom as a favour and he wanted to make his ex-girl jealous, safe to say that it didn’t work,” you giggled, “who did you go with?”

“I dated a guy throughout high school, we broke up in college, he was a dickhead,” she rolled her eyes, “and then I started dating women and I’ve never been happier,” she smiled as she reached over to take your hand.

You grinned as you linked your fingers through hers, “were you Prom Queen?”

Sharon scoffed, “nope, they gave the crown to the head cheerleader, sometimes the cliché is right.”

“How dare they?!” you gasped and Sharon playfully narrowed her eyes at you.

“Yeah, I was very offended,” she laughed before looking at you with a soft smile, her brown eyes were warm and sparkling, “I really do like you, Y/N; I’m glad that we get to do this.”

“I really like you too, Sharon,” you smiled with delight, “I’m already thinking about our second date.”

“A date that hasn’t been organised by our students,” Sharon laughed but as you smiled at each other, you both knew they were amazing students and you would be forever grateful to them for giving you this moment.

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@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 3

Alpha Maul x Omega Reader

Word Count: 5k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, talk of slavery, mentions of guns and other various bounty hunting shenanigans

PREVIOUS         NEXT          MASTERLIST

      Maul didn’t know what to expect when he entered your ship; he had tried not to have any expectations. The main entrance opened up to the cargo bay that took up the whole footprint of the ship. He could see the cryo-freezer and storage in one corner and made a mental note to look into getting one for his own ship; he may not mind the smell of the bodies he collected but he preferred the idea of handing in quarries that weren’t decomposing by the time he turned them in. Labeled crates of food supplies and ammunition lined the walls along with a surprisingly high amount of medical equipment. The center was left open, for training purposes he guessed. He had thought that this layout was fairly standard for a high-ranking hunter and despite his best efforts not to assume what he would find on the upper level he was astonished.

    You obviously lived here full time on the ship you had fondly referred to as the Wolf, the hatch opened up into a hallway from where he could see the door to your cabin left open. He fought the urge to look inside out of respect and followed you through the common area toward the cockpit. He did allow himself to stay a few steps behind you so he could glance around.

    The kitchen had been expanded from a small standard kitchenette to a more comfortable cooking space with a large pantry. A quality wooden table sat off to the side with some kind of potted green fern in its center, rather than a flimsy durasteel counter. Plush rugs of different colors had been scattered along the floor and a doorless closet imbedded in the wall showed massive amounts of folded blankets and extra pillows along with other soft looking comfort items. Post cards from countless planets littered the walls surrounding the space. You had even managed to fit a sofa and bookshelf in one of the corners without making it seem over crowded.

    He didn’t say a word as he sat in the co-pilot’s chair beside you, setting his worn bag on the floor next to him. You had even managed to decorate this space; warm blankets hung over the backs of the chairs and photos of you with other hunters hung on the walls that lacked control panels. Some of the photos were located in bars, others looked like more traditional hunting parties; friends with their arms around each other in front of massive beasts that lay slain. In one, he recognized the Mandalorian he had met on Tatooine pissing into a Sarlacc pit with you laughing boisterously in the side of the frame with your head thrown back. Something in his hindbrain whispered to him.

Omega makes it home.

He blinked his attention back to you when he realized you had said something.

“You alright Maul?” you asked him again when the fog left his eyes.

“Yes, my apologies, I have just never seen a ship like this before.”

“Yeah, I move around a lot so over the years I made it more comfortable. Easier than having a home base like some of the others try to keep, cheaper too,” Maul nodded in understanding before turning back to you once you had broken through the atmosphere and started tapping away at the nav computer.

“Where are we going for the first quarry?”

“We’ve got a runaway wife of some rich wannabe crime lord. Need to bring her back alive for the whole sum or dead for only twenty five percent. Last seen on Anaxes, guess she liked tinkering with the ships back home, probably hiding out as a mechanic or something there. I want the whole purse. I know you like bringing them back cold but I’m not settling for a fraction of the price.”

“Runaway wife should be easy,” he folded his arms as he studied the hologram the puck projected.

“Should be, I’m not worried about her. She’s young and pretty, I’d be shocked if she didn’t have at least a few guys keeping an eye on her; but them we can kill,” you pulled back a lever and the stars stretched around the Wolf throwing the two of you through hyperspace. You leaned back in the chair and kicked your feet up.

“Listen, I’m not one to beat around the bush. I picked her to grab first because I doubt we’re going to run into a situation with her where my life will depend on you not fucking me over,” you turned your head to meet his eyes that were already on you, “I know you’re a dark force wielder and I know you can feel that I am a force user too.”

Maul’s top lip pulled up in a snarl and his eyes narrowed, “are you a Jedi then? Have you orchestrated this to trap me?!” the hilt of his saber flew out of his pack and into his hand but he hesitated to ignite it when fear pheromones seeped out of you.

Your scent gave you away but your posture didn’t waver, “I used to be, years ago. I was kicked out of the order when my gene presented,” you chuckled, “my master found me naked and writhing on the floor of my room,” your chuckle had grown to full-fledged laughter, your shoulders shook at the memory all but forgetting the pissed off Alpha at your side.

“I- I still remember the look on his face. Fucking horrified when I had my first heat,” you took a breath and wiped a tear from your eye, “they told me I had to leave before I could even face the trials for my knighthood,” your expression turned slightly solemn, Maul had relaxed in the seat next to you. He didn’t think they would throw out one of their own simply because of a biological mutation.

“I’m not doing this to trap you or anything like that Maul,” you turned again to face him, “Bane helped me out after I lost everything I ever knew. I heard a rumor that you didn’t know you were an Alpha until recently either. I’m just trying to return a favor paid to me.”

Maul turned to watch the stars as they flashed by, dropping his saber back into his pack. He hated the Jedi, he had even hunted a few who had left the order or were kicked out after breaking their precious code; but you were different. Cast out because you didn’t fit into their mold, not unlike him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you caught his attention again, “I don’t dislike all of them. It’s been years since I’ve seen any of them but I don’t plan on burning the temples to the ground. If you want help with a bounty or need some underworld information I’m your girl; if you wanna fuck with the Jedi you’re on your own. You and Cad are the only ones who know about that past and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“I understand.”

You stood and nodded to the door, “come on I’ll show you where to put your gear.”

    He followed you out of the cockpit and into the common area where you pointed to an empty cabinet, “so, Sith are back huh?”

He went rigid as he put his pack with all its contents still inside on the shelf, “why do you assume I am Sith and not just someone who dabbles in the dark side of the force?”

You leaned against the wall and crossed your arms, “I lived my whole life at the temple. I never saw or heard of you or anyone who looked remotely like you there so I know you’re not a fallen Jedi. You have a light saber so you’re also not some self-taught back water force sensitive individual. That only leaves one option.”

“I’m not a Sith anymore, my master thinks I’m dead and much like your own desire to keep your past private; I’d like to keep it that way as well,” his eyes narrowed again. He was equally annoyed and impressed by your deductions and his hind brain spoke again.

Omega is smart.

He was already tired of this intrusive voice in his head. Perhaps it was a mistake to come with you after all. His scent had turned abrasive in your nose and his signature was wavering.

“Hey, calm down there, Alpha I’m not here to mess up what you’ve got going for yourself. I’m just trying to make sure you’re not going to slice my head off of my shoulders with that pretty red blade of yours.”

“No, I’m not going to kill you. I just want to make a life for myself.”

“Good,” you turned to another cabinet and pulled out a few extra blankets and a pillow and made up the sofa for him, “you can sleep here, it’s more comfortable than it looks, I promise,” with that you turned away from him and made you way to the cabin.

“Oh, ‘freshers the last door down this hall. Won’t be long until we arrive, rest up if you can,” with that the door hissed behind you and locked, leaving him standing alone in front of the sofa with much to ponder. Even out of your immediate presence, your scent permeated the air around him and wafted out of everything in the room. It was difficult to think, surly not all unmated Omegas were so intoxicating. He shook his head and softly walked down the hall and stepped into the fresher.

    He almost smiled, almost. Why had he expected a standard washroom? Of course you had a full sized -sanistream shower and a deep tub instead of a sonic. Another plush carpet lay underfoot with soft towels hanging on a bar. Various perfumy bath oils and soaps sat on the counter top in a decorative array along with a few candles. He was starting to wonder if you really were the renowned bounty hunter, ‘Meg, he had heard about or an imposter living a lie. He would soon find out. He splashed some cold water on his face before wandering back to the sofa you had made up for him.

    He removed his cloak and kicked off his boots, setting them both to the side before laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. It was soft and warm, more so than anything his master had provided for him. It smelled like you too, he tried not to think about the fact that it gave him incredible comfort and eased both his worry and his tensed muscles. Wrapped in your scent he fell asleep faster than he ever had before in his life.

      You did not find sleep on the way to Anaxes. Despite sinking into your soft bed, despite surrounding yourself with all of your favorite pillows and blankets and even trying to meditate, you could not ease your thrumming heart. Why had this Alpha’s scent been so strong? It made your mouth water and your thighs clench. He had released a new wave of soothing pheromones when he fell asleep and yet they did nothing to calm you. You ached to crawl onto the sofa with him and wrap yourself in his arms, to burry your face into his scent gland and bare your throat for him to… Maker what the fuck? You were disgusted with yourself. An ex-Sith and an ex-Jedi? Gods the trouble that would cause, such wonderful, inebriating trouble.. no.

    You wanted to comm someone to ask them about it. You couldn’t call Zeni or Coth, they had been trying to set you up with a mate for years, they would tell you to just get it over with. Couldn’t call Fett, it had been awkward to say the least since you gently turned down his offer for courtship. You looked over at the hat that you had just hung from your bed post. Maybe Bane could tell you what this was all about? He had had a mate before and wouldn’t give you the same answer as Zeni. You sighed heavily, missing Master Plo’s wise words and wished to hear his voice again. Would it be a terrible idea to make a stop on Coruscant and try to visit when you had fulfilled your current obligation?

    Probably. Maybe not? You huffed frustratedly and buried your face into one of the pillows for the tenth time. Bane, you’d comm Bane when you had a chance after picking up your privately commissioned bounty. Just as you attempted to close your eyes again a quiet beeping rang out from the vambrace you had discarded on your side table. You groaned unabashedly and smacked the button to turn it off. You still had some time and your stomach was grumbling so you didn’t bother to change out of the long shirt and baggy pants you wore. Pride be damned.

    Still, you tried to be quiet when you left your room to put the caf on. Your eyes immediately fell on him. Chest rising and falling steadily, wrapped up in the blanket you had given it, he was clutching it to his nose. The crease in his brow and frown on his lips gone; lost in his slumber. He was handsome when he wasn’t irritated, hell he was handsome when he was too. You watched him for a moment a voice in the back of your mind whispering.

Alpha looks warm

Alpha looks safe

Oh fuck no. You grimaced at your Omega brain that rarely reared her head. You turned and started rummaging around the pantry, working by the light that poured out of the door to your room so you wouldn’t wake him.

      When Maul did wake, it was to the smell of hot caf and cooking meat. He sat up slowly and looked around before he saw you leaning forward over the counter, face lit by a data-pad, sipping out of a steaming mug. Your eyes flashed up and met his, “Caf?” you offered.

    He grunted and nodded his response before standing and making his way behind you, looking through cabinets. You smirked down at your data-pad and without turning to him, held out an empty mug you had gotten for him. He took it with a quiet thank you and filled it. His smokey spice filling your nose in this proximity and without your knowledge, your sweet earthy smell filling his.

    He peered over your shoulder at the data-pad you were reading from. With a sigh you pressed a button to it projected the hologram, desperate for a little space you sidestepped slightly. It showed the blue prints for the assembly yard you suspected she had run off to hide in.

“It’s going to be highly populated,” he stated simply.

“We’re not grabbing her from the assembly line. She may have a price on her head but I’m not keen on the idea of explaining that to everyone and their supervisor.”

“Follow her home after her shift then?” he took a long drink of the caf and plated the both of you some of the meat before sitting at the table. At least he has manners.

“Precisely. Boss said she took a bunch of cash with her so I’m guessing she’s got an apartment outside the complex instead of sleeping in the employee housing. I got an idea where she might be working within the facility…”

    For the next hour the two of you ate as you pointed out where they worked on the simpler components. Based off of her limited knowledge she was most likely working with less complicated, smaller parts of the ships. You had pointed out the where those were and when he asked how you learned this you showed him how to find and read the blue prints and get the shift change schedules. All tools of the trade so to speak.

    You had taken a shower and after landing outside the city, started to gear up in the cargo bay. He watched with a confused look in his eye as you strapped dual blasters into your shoulder holsters and a large knife onto your hip. Pulling on your mid-thigh length coat, you filled one of the pockets on your utility belt with a few darts of different colors and a blow gun on the opposite side.

“Why not just bring your saber?” you must have looked at him like that was the dumbest question he could’ve asked, and it was.

“You’re kidding, right? You are not bringing yours,” you held up your hand and started counting each finger as you spoke, “for one, it’s a highly populated area and we are both in hiding. Two, we’re bringing her in alive and as unharmed as possible. Three, even if we were bringing her in dead, in a low pop area there’s always the chance someone could see and word travels fast. If you’re going to thrive in this line of work, you’re going to have to branch out,” you rummaged through the large locking cabinet before handing him a mid-sized blaster. “It’s set to stun for now,” you pointed to show him how he can set it to kill and got him a knife.

He took them with a growl, “I am quite familiar with other forms of weaponry thank you very much.” You just raised your palms up in mock defeat with a scoff.

      Two days. It took you two days of staking out the assembly facility before you found her. Two days of distracting heavy breathes. Laying so close to him, peering through scopes at entrances during shift changes from rocky terrain had you irritable to say the least. At least he was quiet, kept that damn sultry voice to himself. If he was as affected as you, he had the common sense not to let it show. Little did you know; he was. He kept the sights glued to his face so you couldn’t see how blown his pupils were. You let out and audible sigh of relief when you finally did spot the pretty blonde woman. Her hair tied back and a much too large jumpsuit billowing off of her form. You watched as she mounted a speeder bike and took off away from the complex. You had rented one in town when you first arrived claiming to be in the market for a ship.

    You turned to Maul already at the controls, he simply nodded his head for you to climb on behind him. He didn’t miss how you jumped at the silent command, despite trying to touch him as little as possible. You kept your eyes on her through the electrobinoculars while he navigated from a safe distance behind her. Your free hand was grasping the loose fabric of his tunic at his lower back. Your touch felt electric to him.

    You watched her dismount and silently followed her through the apartment complex, it was run down and had a rusty smell that wafted off the walls. Just before the door could hiss closed behind her your boot caught it, the fail-safe caused it to whoosh open again. As you rushed into the home with Maul on your heels you withdrew your knife and before she could even blink her shock you had spun her around with the blade pressed to her throat.

“Well, you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Now why would a woman such as yourself be running from your doting husband?” you taunted her. You weren’t usually so hostile to unaggressive quarries but you were still bristling at the effect that Maul had on you. Some should-be-dead instinct telling you to show him you were strong. She whimpered as Maul smirked and handed you his set of binders before doing a perimeter scan of the apartment.

“P-please don’t take me back to him. I can’t go back. You must understand. I… I know you do!” Your brow creased at her statement before it hit you. Maul was in the back room so his scent wasn’t fogging your mind and with your nose so close to her scent gland there was no mistake. You bound her hands behind her back and pressed your leg to the back of her knees; forcing her down into a kneeling position on the floor.

“Shit,” Maul reentered the room in a hurry at your curse, eyes searching for some kind of trouble. You watched it hit him as hard as it you. Your eyes locked on him as he sniffed the air and pull his top lip back in a snarl. She was another Omega but, she hadn’t been marked. No Alpha’s scent had mixed with her own and you looked at her as confused as Maul did before she turned her attention to him.

“P-please Alpha. Help me, don’t send me back to that- that monster. Please Alpha…” she was trying to shuffle over to where he stood on her knees. Maul had expected her scent to be as strong as yours was to him. Before this woman, you had been the only unmated Omega he had met but she was nowhere near as intoxicating as you had been, as you are. She was annoying, a nuisance, weak. Nothing worth protecting. You reached down and dragged her by her bound hands back to where you had put her and kneeled in front of her.

“What the fuck are you doing married to a beta?” your finger jabbing her sternum in an accusatory manner.

“I’m not his wife! Fucker bought me!” you cringed at the term. Bane had warned you about Omegas being bought and sold but you had yet to run into any of them.

Maul wanted nothing to do with the woman before him, he saw her as a feeble and overly fragile but a fleeting thought of you being taken by slavers and sold to someone else fluttered through his mind.

No one takes Omega

He growled his disgust at the idea. You thought for a moment, weighing your options.

“Where were you taken, before you were sold?” your eyes held her gaze unblinkingly in the dimmed room, Maul had moved to stand closely behind you.

“Trandoshans, they came and took me from a cantina on Tatooine.”

You rolled your eyes at her so hard you risked giving yourself a headache.

“What in the absolute fuck were you doing on Tatooine without an Alpha to protect you?” you stood and paced around the room, “Fucking stupid ‘mega,” you cursed under your breath but loud enough that she could hear you. “You don’t have to be a hunter to know the whole planet is a slaving capital!”

“I know… I know!” she had dissolved to tears and sobbed her lamentations, “please, please don’t take me back to him!”

“Oh shut up!” you returned and slammed your balled fist into her chin, knocking her unconscious. Maul watched with a pleased grin gracing his face, you pointed your finger in his direction still fuming, “don’t you start with me too. Take her on your bike back to the ship. I’ll take her bike. I have to think about this.”

He growled but kept the smirk while he hoisted her up onto his shoulder. He paused just before passing you utterly amused and whispered, “Ah yes, let the anger fuel you,” before he left. You shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

    You didn’t want to admit it but he was right. These years of faring on your own had been on one hand, great, incredibly fun even. Living outside the code was unrestricting but, on the other hand, you had wondered if your soul had darkened along with everything else. Times were not always good. You honestly wished you cared. You wanted to care so badly but, in all honesty, you didn’t. At this point in your life the force power you carried was just another blaster in your arsenal. Another set of binoculars in your pack. You didn’t, couldn’t let it guide you like it once had.

    To your relief, he had followed your instructions; he had left with her. You took her bike and made your way, a little slowly. Enjoying the fact that you could barely smell him from your current position. You had hoped that you would get used to it but you still hadn’t. ‘The Bitch’ you like to refer to your Omega brain as, her voice just continued to pop up with intrusive thoughts. More so than after being around any other Alpha. You wondered if the woman he carried at the moment had a similar experience.

    The hull was open and Maul had loaded the woman and the bike into the cargo bay. She was starting to stir as you brought the bike up next to his. The fear in her eyes returned as her consciousness did and she started to shriek causing both you and Maul to wince. You grabbed a rag and shoved it into her mouth to stifle her sobs. Once again you knelt down next to her, “Maul, tell her to be quiet so that I can explain something to her.”

“Why would she listen to me?” you rolled your eyes.

“Because you’re an Alpha, a particularly… pungent one as well, I’m assuming she lies on the more subservient spectrum as far as Omegas go, she will obey,” you turned your attention back to the woman, tears streaming down her face. As you had guessed she immediately silenced at his command.

“Now then, listen closely. Nod if you understand me,” the woman nodded still wide eyed at you, “good. I have to take you back. If I don’t the bounty will remain open and someone else will come to collect. You can’t just run off again either. Well, you could, but odds are your ‘husband’ would just rehire me to come pick you up and he pays well so I would take it. You have two options. One, return and play the good wife and deal with whatever comes with it. Two,” you reached into your pack and took out two differently colored capped darts, “I slip these into your bra, you let me freeze you like a good little girl and return you home to collect my pay. After he unfreezes you, you stab him with the green one to knock him out; anywhere in his body. Then inject the black one into his neck to kill him. Once he’s dead you can escape and no one will bother to come looking for you because there will be no one to put a bounty on you.”

She weighed your words heavily and you practiced your patience, truly sympathetic to the woman. You were an exception, Omegas were strong yes but, most were incredibly subservient; even without an Alpha. She mumbled something behind the gag and you scoffed before removing the rag and she gasped.

“I want the darts,” her conviction was steadfast and you breathed a sigh of relief, “put me in the freezer with them and I’ll take care of the rest.”

    You reached your hand into her shirt with a slightly apologetic look while you nestled each dart under an individual breast, she nodded her thanks after you reminded her which was which and helped her to her feet. You gave her one last look before taking the binders off. Maul watched you hesitantly as you guided her into the freezing chamber. She gave you a sad yet thankful smile, it was slight but as you pressed the buttons and activated the gasses it froze on her face. Soon, she’d be free. You guided the block into the freezer storage and locked the door behind her before allowing yourself to ungraciously slide down the wall until your rump hit the floor with a soft thud.

    Almost forgetting you weren’t alone you tossed your hat to the side somewhere and ran your fingers through your hair and rubbed one of your eyes, exhausted from her emotional affliction.

    Maul could smell your distress, his instincts told him to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be alright. That he’d protect you, that he’d never let anyone lay a finger on you. That your fate would never become hers. Instead, he settled for sitting beside you with his legs crossed, without looking at you he spoke, staring down at his feet, “you gave her a way to take her own freedom.”

You hummed, just acknowledging that you heard him and sat next to him in silence for a few minutes. His pheromones were comforting, his presence was soothing and for the first time you didn’t fight the effect they had on you.

Alpha will protect me.

    Once again you shook ‘the bitch’ away and made your way to the cockpit. You flew closer to the shop you rented the bike from and opted to keep the other Omega’s for yourself. While Maul was returning the bike, you pressed a few buttons on your vambrace, calling Bane. Within a few moments the side of his face appeared in the hologram. Blaster fire whizzing by his head.

“You alright ‘Meg?” that raspy voice you loved sounded frustrated with whatever mess he was currently in.

“Yeah I’m fine, listen I got a question for you when you’re not busy.” He took a second to face you head on with a smirk, “What makes you think I’m busy?” as if on que a bolt took the hat right off his head and he cursed. You laughed and shook your head.

“Just contact me soon, don’t die out there old man.” He grunted in response and the hologram dissipated right as Maul was sitting down in the copilot’s chair.

“One down, where to next?” he eyed the comm that Bane had appeared from warily.

“Smuggler fucked over Jabba, a Talz. Last seen heading towards Hoth; no doubt to escape the heat literally and figuratively and hide amongst the Wampa. Can you take us up? I’m starving.” He nodded and took your seat while you headed back to the common area. You doubled over and clutched your stomach, “shit,” the pain all too familiar but coming much too early.

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[bookofmirth]

Hey Lele, how it was like to watch Moriel sink? You used to ship it, right? Do you remember what were you thinking to be the problem so Azriel and Mor couldn't be together for 500 years?

See, I was thinking here; it doesn't seem... well planned to Mor be a queer character, but when I think the possibility of Moriel being together and what would be the obstacle to put them apart, I can't think of anything but Mor being queer 😭 (Azriel being a "pau mole" is too incel for me to accept). What the hell was SJM planning, why did she throw Mor in such an awful and disgusting situation/story?

Oh boy, Maria. It was an experience. Let me take y'all back, all the way back to spring of 2017...

Actually let's go further back, to fall 2016. There were four major ships that were assumed to be canon when I joined: feysand, nessian, elucien, and moriel. This was months after acomaf had come out. They were accepted. Even though 3/4 of them hadn't happened, everyone pretty much assumed that they all would. There was no discourse on the topic. Just fanfic, fan art, headcanons, and memes. People may have disliked one character or preferred one ship, but that's just what we all thought.

Then certain portions of the fandom decided that they disliked Mor, and that they disliked Lucien, and that Azriel was actually a sad soft boi. They created this monster we currently know. This is beside the point, I just thought I would throw it in. This was a good six months after acomaf had come out, so people were just bored and overthinking and decided to re-examine the evidence we'd had for months.

So, when acowar came out, it was a MESS. It was a very different mess than the current mess we have right now. It was the kind of mess that caused a huge portion of the fandom to leave. Some of the major discourse around acowar was:

Mor's coming out - was it planned? Was it done well? Is she a lesbian or is she bisexual?

Moriel - was it planned? What was the purpose of all the longing looks and Feyre saying Azriel would be in love with her until the stars... something darkness... the sky? idk, it was a big quote at the time.

Azriel - how do we view his character now that we know that he should know Mor is queer? How can we see him now without thinking he's a total creep who just can't move on? If he loved Mor so much, how could he have made her scared in that High Lord meeting, and how could have participate in the ambush with Keir and Eris without telling her?

The IC - how could they have not known Mor is queer???

I think it's worth pointing out that these are still questions we can't answer and people wonder about. I honestly don't think that, 1.5 books later, I could answer any of those questions with confidence. That makes the Mor and Az choices in acowar half-assed, to me.

Pair this with other things that happened in acowar, such as the retcon of Helion being Lucien's father, and what we have is basically a clusterfuck of a book where sjm decided to change a whole lot of her earlier plans in order to set up something new. She decided on elucien last minute in acomaf, in her FB post she talks about that being a surprise and how Elain was someone Lucien wouldn't expect. Similarly to how Nesta and Cassian were in the same room and bam, that was done. I suspect that's why she made Helion Lucien's father - Lucien being the heir of the Day Court would allow Elain to live in a place where she would fit right in. (Also, the heavy imagery of Elain needing light in acowar, to be outside.) But again, that was something that came after the fact.

I think that Mor being queer was not planned ahead of time. I think that perhaps Azriel's characterization of clinging to inappropriate or unavailable women was consistent from acomaf on, but that Mor being queer was a way to "excuse" his behavior. Like you said, it's an easy explanation for them to not be together. And I hate it.

When moriel was still one of the major ships, why they hadn't gotten together yet was one of the major questions we all grappled with.

I will also point out that the conversations we had about moriel are the same conversations that are currently being had about e*riel. There are no true obstacles to it happening, so why hasn't it? Especially if, as e*riels claim, it has been building for 4 books? What has stopped Elain from dealing with the bond, if she actually wants Az? Has nothing truly happened between them in all this time? If they feel so strongly for one another, how is it possible that nothing has ever happened??? Moriel shippers had some very similar questions. I'm sure that some highly motivated soul can find some of those posts from back in the day on my blog because I've never deleted any of it. All that moriel discourse still exists.

But anyway, we know how that turned out.

At the time, moriel pining seemed romantic. Now, it's just a pattern with Az. Now, we have his behavior towards Mor in acowar and Elain in acosf reinforcing that pattern and the fact that it's not healthy.